Devil's Embrace by Catherine Coulter Read Free Book Online Page A

the sheets fly free, and ducked as the boom swung with a grating thud to starboard. She pulled at the tiller to put the wind to her back, and her small sail took the wind with agonizing slowness. Cassie fought off her growing panic, secured the tiller between her thighs, grabbed her paddle, and rowed furiously toward shore.
    She heard a man’s shout, and slewed her head about for a moment to see the yacht bearing down on her, its graceful, full bow slicing cleanly through the water.
    The huge shadow of the yacht blotted out the sun, and Cassie moaned low in her throat as the specter of death rose before her.
    A man’s voice commanded sharply, “Veer off! Hook the ropes and haul her in!”
    Cassie gazed dumbfounded at several sailors hanging precariously from rope ladders over the side, each of them holding in his free hand a thick looped rope. By God, they are pirates, white slavers, she thought. She saw herself tied in irons, bound for servitude on the Barbary Coast, and pulled frantically with her paddle.
    She heard a whirling sound over her head and was suddenly thrown backward against the teller as looped ropes encircled the mast and the outjutting bow. She shook off the pain in her back from the sharp-edged tiller and scrambled forward. She tugged at the thick hemp rope about the mast, but it was pulled taut.
    She looked up when one sailor shouted upward to a man who stood at the railing. “All secure, captain!”
    “Pull her close in! Steady now!”
    There was something oddly familiar about the commanding deep voice, but her mind was so clogged with fear that she did not heed it. She saw that fumbling withthe thick rope about her mast would gain her naught, and quickly stumbled to the stern of her wildly lurching boat. She measured her distance to shore and groaned with frustration, for in her heavy skirt and petticoats she would drown long before she reached shallow water. She was thrown to her knees as her boat heeled sharply, drawn closer to the yacht by the ropes. She watched numbly as the captain gingerly stepped over the side and began his descent down a rope ladder. He was a powerfully built man, dressed in a full-sleeved white shirt, and tight-fitting knit breeches above his black boots.
    He is a pirate, she thought, their leader. She grabbed the long wooden paddle and held her weapon tightly against her.
    Her boat heeled as he stepped into the cockpit, and he closed his hand about the mast for support.
    She took in his thick black hair and deeply tanned face and gasped in astonishment.
    “Lord Clare! Oh, thank God it is you. I thought it was a pirate and that I was to be taken, or killed.” She ceased her babble of words when Anthony Welles only gazed at her, unspeaking.
    Cassie drew a shaking breath and lowered her wooden paddle. “You frightened me, my lord,” she said more calmly. “I do not think I like your joke; you could easily have rammed my boat. Pray tell me, why have you done this?”
    “My purpose was not to ram your boat, Cassandra, only to capture it,” he said in his low, clipped voice. “You gave me quite a chase until you backwinded your sail.”
    Her fingers tightened about the wooden paddle. “What are you saying, my lord? You wished to capture my boat?”
    “I commend your bravado, Cassandra. However, I must ask you to drop that deadly paddle and accompany me aboard your namesake.”
    “Lord Clare, what is the meaning of this? I asked you just why the devil you have secured my boat. I demand that you answer me.” She took an angry step toward him.
    “Come, Cassandra, enough of this foolishness. The timegrows short. You will come to understand everything, in time.” He stretched out his hand toward her. “Drop the paddle and come here.”
    “You can go to the devil, my lord.” She took a wobbly step backward and lost her footing. Her attention wavered from him as she struggled to regain her balance, and a strong hand clasped her arm and jerked her forward. She tried to