Masters of Desire. Layla Chase
than his captain. When he set her down on the floor of the captain’s cabin, she turned and pleaded, “Please, you must let me go. Braithwaite will attack Siren’s Cove on the morrow and I must be there to help defend it.”
“My apologies, my lady. Until the captain says so, I can’t let you go.” He backed out of the cabin, his departure followed by the soft click of the lock being turned.
With her hands tied behind her back, Melodie had little hope of breaking out of the cabin. She searched the room for a knife, sword, or anything sharp to scrape against her bonds, finally settling on the rusty hinge of a trunk. Dropping to her knees she scooted her back to the trunk and scraped the rope against the hinge. A strand broke and she could move her wrists a little better, but she had a way to go before she could free her hands.
Digging against the hinge, she worked at the rope, scraping the skin off her wrist in the process. Another strand broke. She jerked and tugged her wrists until the rope burned her skin and finally, she managed to free her hands at last.
As she stood, shaking the feeling back into her fingers, the door opened.
Melodie shoved her hands behind her back.
Rafe strode in and kicked the door shut behind him. “Now that we’re alone, you’ll tell me what the witch is protecting in Siren’s Cove.”
“No, I won’t.”
A frown settled between his brows and he marched across to her, grabbing her shoulders. “You will tell me, now.”
“I will not.” She jerked her hands up through the middle of his, knocking his hands free of her shoulders. While she had him off guard and off balance, she shoved him hard.
The back of his legs caught the edge of a trunk and he fell backward.
Melodie raced for the door, throwing it open.
Before she reached the top of the gangway, a hand caught her thigh.
“Stop, woman!” Rafe bellowed.
She grabbed the handrail and kicked out at her tormentor, landing a heel on his chin.
He grunted, but maintained his grip on her leg, dragging her backward until he held her in the vicelike grip of his arms.
“Let me go. I have to help Busara.”
Rafe carried her back into his cabin, kicked the door shut and turned to lock it. After dropping the key into a drawer in a built-in cabinet, he turned her to face him.
Locking her arms against her sides with one of his arms, he brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead.
A pang of guilt burned in her gut at the angry red mark marring his chin where she’d kicked him.
“You will tell me what secret the Obeah woman keeps in the cove before the night is over.”
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