Irresistible Read Online Free Page A

the darkness looked as black as the sea. She was both nicely shaped and easy to carry. He knew that too, almost strictly from touch, because after catching her as she collapsed he'd reflexively put his shoulder to her stomach and lifted her over it— only to have his ribs exact a teeth-gritting price by the time he reached the gig.
    He'd had to steel himself to ignore the knifelike sensation in his midsection as he had bundled her into the rowboat that, as the extraction had been accomplished so quickly, the sailors had still been in the process of securing. If the distance had been much farther he was very much afraid he would have been forced to let his pride go hang and pass the wench off to James, who'd been clucking like an old hen beside him for fear he'd do himself an injury all the way. He would have hated like the devil to pass the wench off to James.
    The traitorous wench.
    Hugh reminded himself of that deliberately, dwelling on the word with grim determination in an effort to steel himself for what he had to do. The slight body curled with helpless vulnerability before him belonged to one who was a danger to them all, a danger to England.
    He would not even think of her as a traitorous wench. Just a traitor, gender immaterial.
    The thought performed the necessary function of hardening his heart. Nevertheless, he could not help but be aware that her skull felt unmistakably feminine beneath his hand, her skin was soft, and her hair had a disconcerting tendency to curl around his probing fingers. Dammit to bloody hell, she felt like a woman.
    Ignoring that as best he could, he continued the search. His efforts were rewarded when he encountered a warm stickiness just behind her left ear: blood.
    "She's bleeding." His tone held no inflection. That it cost him some degree of effort to keep the label "traitor" rather than "woman" at the forefront of his mind was something that only he needed to know. Having determined that the injury did not appear to be life-threatening, he disentangled his hand from the clinging tresses. A glancing blow to the head would be the least of what would befall her now that she'd been apprehended, he reminded himself grimly. If the notion made him secretly queasy, then it was time to remember that he was, first and foremost, a soldier in time of war. No one had ever promised him that the things he would be required to do for his country would be pleasant, or easy.
    "Aye, well, I'm not surprised. I hit the beldame bloody hard."
    James, who seemed to suffer none of his own qualms about the gender of their prisoner, was twisted around, looking over his shoulder at the Nadine , which was so close now that when they reached the crest of the wave her starboard side loomed above them like a giant black wall. Faces illuminated by the flickering glow of lanterns could be seen on her deck as half a dozen or so men massed at the rail, making ready to bring them up. The schooner's sails were down, leaving her bare masts to thrust through the darkness like skeletal fingers reaching toward the storm-heavy sky.
    "Pull hard to port!" someone yelled. The men complied, and the longboat's stern swung around.
    Braced against the pitching waves, one hand now pressed flat against the woman's back to keep her secure, Hugh watched as a rope ladder unfurled down the Nadine 's side. The first part of his task was complete: He had the traitor in his possession. In a few minutes they would be safe— from the sea at least— on deck. Then the second part of his task would begin.
    Thinking about what that might entail, he set his jaw in a grim expression.
    "Come about!" a sailor cried.
    The sailors pulled hard at the oars once again, bringing the longboat alongside and parallel to the Nadine . And just in time, too. The storm was coming on fast. The waves were taller now, closer together, frothing white at the tops with mounting anger. Even as Hugh registered that, another powerful swell caught the longboat up, carrying