Lovestorm Read Free Page A

brushed against a rough, sloping wall. Bewildered, she tried to sit up.
    â€œLie still,” a masculine voice commanded. “You are safe.”
    Elizabeth sighed and laid her head back as she recognized the voice of the man who had taken her from the longboat. Wherever she was, she had not been robbed or ravished. Her rings still hung heavy on her fingers.
    â€œWh-where am I?” Her throat hurt, and she sounded like an ancient crone. “Is this land?”
    The man chuckled. “Unless the sea decides to claim it again.” He squatted beside her and held out a bowl. “Have you hunger?”
    Elizabeth moistened her cracked lips with her tongue and tried to gather her wits. She was warm, her eyes caught the flicker of a small fire, and the bed beneath her was soft. When she shifted her weight on the mattress, the odor of pine became stronger. She blinked, adjusting her vision to the dim light of the fire. This is not a room in a house, she thought. It is some primitive hut. In the center of the low roof was an opening. “Stars,” she said, half to herself. “It’s night.”
    â€œYes,” her companion agreed. “Yesterday, I take you from the sea. You have fever. You sleep long time.”
    She tried to place his accent. Yorkshire? His speech was oddly old-fashioned but perfectly comprehensible. Elizabeth put a hand to her hair. It was neatly brushed and bound into braids. It felt damp. She was wearing a crude skin tunic. Whoever did my hair must have changed my clothing, Elizabeth thought. She fixed her gaze on the man once more. “You are . . .” She struggled to remember his name. “Cain?”
    â€œCain Dare.”
    â€œYes.” She caught a whiff of what was in the bowl and was suddenly ravenous. “Is that soup?”
    â€œGood.”
    He grinned broadly, and she noticed that his dark hair was cut off square at the shoulder. He was wearing a sleeveless leather vest, open in the front; beneath the garment his muscular chest was bare. A wide copper bracelet encircled the bulging biceps of one brawny, hairless arm. A pirate! She remembered her earlier impression with a shiver of excitement. I’ve been captured by a pirate!
    â€œIt is good that you hunger,” he continued. “Food and rest will make you strong.” He set the bowl on the floor and lifted her to a half-sitting position, adjusting a wooden backrest behind her. “There,” he said. “Now you eat.”
    Elizabeth started at his touch. There was nothing lewd or familiar about the man’s manner, but the heat of his arm burned through her rough garment like fire. He lifted her as easily as though she were a child. She drew in a ragged breath. “Oh.”
    Sensing her fear, he withdrew a short distance away and crouched motionless. “You have no danger,” he repeated. “I am friend.” He held out the steaming bowl of soup. “Eat.”
    â€œI have not thanked you for saving me,” Elizabeth said shakily. “I am the Lady Elizabeth Anne Sommersett. I am betrothed to Edward Lindsey, son of the earl of Dunmore. If you take me to Jamestown, or inform my family that I am here, you will be richly rewarded.”
    â€œEat the soup while it has hot.”
    â€œDon’t you understand?” Elizabeth grew imperious. “I am a person of great importance. Do you know where Jamestown is?”
    â€œI know.” He rose to his feet.
    Elizabeth felt her cheeks grow hot. The man was wearing little but an apron of skin about his loins. Hastily, she averted her eyes. Even a pirate would be civilized enough to wear breeches! Was she being held prisoner by a madman? “I insist that you contact my betrothed at once,” she sputtered.
    â€œThis one hears you. Do you always talk so loud?”
    Torn between the desire to put this ruffian in his place and to fill the aching void in her stomach, Elizabeth allowed herself a haughty