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Chapters (64)
  1. Cover
  2. Copyright
  3. Author's Note
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. Other Books by Pam Godwin
  63. About Pam Godwin
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To be wanted by a man whose heart didn’t belong to another… I would never admit such a vulnerable desire aloud. The desperate, wild hope that fluttered from my thoughts equally mortified and excited me. Oh, how I hated this need to be wanted by him, but it was there, a hunger so deep it clamped down on my lungs.

Kiss me, Ashley.

He trailed a finger along my jaw and traced my quivering lower lip. His mouth parted, inviting mine to edge closer.

I arched my neck, pressing into the hand on my cheek. My nerves buzzed with drunken anticipation as he dipped his head. Closer. Closer. The nearness of his mouth teased mine, trembling, groaning, heating…

Gone.

A chill swept in. Then I saw it.

The curved lips. The humorless non-smile. Eyes as mean as the devil’s own.

“You’re a pirate whore, Bennett Sharp. Nothing more.” He shoved off my body, his tone cutting. “You will hang for the crimes you’ve committed against the crown.”

24

Ashley’s sudden transformation sucked the wind from my sails. A scathing sob rose in my throat, and I trapped it there, humiliated, devastated, and overcome.

The salve on my wounds, the pretty words about my beauty, the almost-kiss… It had all been a ruse to disarm and hurt me.

“Don’t move.” He straightened the shirt, covering my bare bottom and igniting sore flesh.

I showed no reaction and made no move to disobey. I needed to reassemble my thoughts and rein in the blubbering jumble of emotions unraveling inside me.

He set a chair directly behind my bent position, selected a book from a nearby shelf, and grabbed a bowl of lobscouse from the table. Then he settled in to eat and read as if naught were out of order.

The seething agony of his rejection and outright dismissal of my existence shook me to the core. If I were a cold-hearted woman, perhaps I wouldn’t feel so damned hurt. But I wasn’t, and I did. A vise of pain shredded my organs to a pulp. Prickling heat seared the backs of my eyes, and my head pounded beneath the pressure.

He couldn’t see my face from his position, and that alone kept me in place.

I couldn’t hide my true feelings behind a mask like his. Couldn’t stifle the spill of tears or the quiver in my chin. Until I fastened a tourniquet around my bleeding heart, I couldn’t look into his pitiless eyes.

He’d beaten me with emotional warfare.

Hadn’t I considered something as equally nefarious with Priest? I was going to fuck another man in front of him. Probably.

Probably not.

When it came down to it, I wasn’t as cruel as I wanted people to believe. But I wasn’t a saint, either. I didn’t even claim a god. Maybe I deserved this degradation.