Duke by Day, Rogue by Night by Katherine Bone Read Free Book Online Page B

choice.
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    Jacko’s bark stung the night air almost as much as salt in his bad eye.
    Percy’s men heaved forward and back to spin the oars, muscles straining against the currents. He sat at the head of the gig and watched the Octavia tip bow to stern. The sea devoured her whole, taking Frink and all connection to Celeste’s killer down to the bottom of Davy Jones’s locker.
    Irritated that he’d come so close to learning the identity of Frink’s benefactor only to lose all he’d worked so hard for in the time it took to sink a ship, his eyes settled on the bedraggled Lady Constance. He wanted to strike out at her for coming between him and what he wanted most in the world. But as Her Ladyship tried desperately to maintain her modesty, he saw the purity he’d long ago vowed to protect. Celeste, his innocent sister, in need of his help, her limp body ravaged by disease after being sacrificed to the highest bidder and left upon the altar of pestilence. He turned away and cast his gaze out to sea, content remnants of the man he used to be still resided, however hidden, within him.
    When, at last, his emotions settled, Percy peered across the gig and searched the faces of his remaining crew, men who refused to leave without their captain. Ten worked the oars. As their commander, he could taste their bitter disappointment. They’d placed their lives in his hands, endured endless cruelty, followed every order he ever gave and he’d led them to this — failure. Yet, none of their gazes accused. None seemed to care they’d wasted nearly a year of their lives for naught.
    Constance coughed uncontrollably, diverting his attention. His wary eye searched out her form as she stretched to gag over the side of the boat. Salt water did not sit well on the stomach. Thusly, the little fool was sick. He scrutinized her, head to foot. In the moonlight, he could see that her coloring had slightly paled, though her body was primed for attack as she gazed about prepared to strike the first man who came near. Scantily clothed, eyes wide, she clutched her arms across her chest and shifted darting glances at each of his men, fleeting looks that tore at his pride. That she suspected his men of foul play was obvious. But with lives depending upon strength and brawn in order to win the day, her crazed stare forced home the truth. His life would be forever changed and he and his men would be the barb of distrust.
    Her actions did not perplex him as he stared across the boat and a clear streak of moonlight revealed the obvious. In his quest to get Lady Constance off of the Octavia , he’d forgotten her state of undress. After Frink’s attack and a dip in the drink, her nightshift and wrap hung in tatters. Her long blonde hair lay platted against her skull, dull and lifeless. Without a cloak or anything else to protect her from the cold, the night air chilled her to the bone. Conscious of her discomfort, Percy immediately shifted positions, forcing one of the men closest to her to relocate to the other end of the boat. He sat down next to her, amid her protestations, and wrapped his arms about her. When she finally settled, he tilted her face up to his and noted the blue tinge developing on her lips. Odder still was her blank stare. For the first time in a long time, a noble stirring of humanity jolted him awake, tamping down the fiery heat her semi-clad body ignited in his loins. Disregarding his own comfort, he picked her up and set her upon his lap. He cradled her tiny form in his arms, absorbing her quivering spasms as he placed her head against the nook of his neck, allowing her to nuzzle closer for warmth.
    His men grinned, wickedly. With hearty laughter they bet on how quickly the woman would fall for his charms.
    â€œRow, men!” he ordered. “Leave the wilted blossom be.”
    Shivering, she did indeed look and feel like a withered bloom — one, he knew, would