A profound sense of gratitude swept through him. He wanted to get on his knees and glory in the miracle of having survived. He wanted to carry her through into his bedroom, throw her down on his bed, and show her just how wonderful it was to be lusty, healthy, and alive. His body throbbed in definite agreement, and he found himself calculating the number of steps to the bedroom. Mentally unbuttoning and unhooking.

Georgiana Caversteed Wylde, however, was completely oblivious to the heated direction of his thoughts. She was far too engrossed in the hand-drawn cross section in front of her. Benedict bit back a wry smile. No doubt she’d grasp the technicalities of it far better than he could. She presumably knew her way around all manner of seafaring vessels, what with owning her own shipping line.

He suppressed a sigh and willed the ache in his groin to subside. Work before pleasure. His mantra.

“The Admiralty have intercepted several plans to rescue Bonaparte since he was placed on St. Helena,” he said. “Some of ’em more harebrained than others. One included the crew of a notorious privateer named the True Blooded Yankee invading the island from Brazil. Cockburn believes Bonaparte plans to travel to the United States, where his brother Joseph now lives, should a rescue attempt be successful.”

Georgie’s captivating grey eyes met his, and he fought to keep track of the conversation in the face of the distracting length of her eyelashes. This close, he noticed she had two little freckles on the bridge of her nose.

“How extraordinary,” she said.

Concentrate, Wylde, he reminded himself. He tapped the plans in front of her. “This suggests our friend O’Meara is involved in something similar.”

Chapter 22.

Georgie studied the technical drawings in front of her and shook her head in amazement. “These are incredible.”

The plans they had stolen from O’Meara showed the design for a boat—or rather, a submersible vessel—of about twenty feet in length. The hull was divided into three chambers, with a central section for the operator and controls, and two end sections that could be filled with water or air as ballast to sink or rise. Despite her extensive knowledge of ships, she’d never seen anything quite like it. The revolutionary concept made her heart beat faster.

“Who designed this? And what did Admiral Cockburn say when you showed him?”

Wylde smiled at her evident enthusiasm. “He wasn’t best pleased, as it happens because he’s seen these plans before. They were stolen from the Admiralty about a year ago.”

Georgie blinked. “The Admiralty is developing a submarine?”

“They were, when we were at war with France.”

He indicated the seat behind her, and Georgie sat, then leaned forward, eager to hear the story.