His Wicked Kiss by Gaelen Foley Read Free Book Online Page B

so unlikely that most of them seemed to find it quite hilarious.
    She clenched her jaw and colored a bit, but refused to be nonplused. She rested one hand behind her on the bough and leaned back idly, trying to look nonchalant.
    One sailor slapped his thigh as he guffawed. “If them grow on trees in these parts, Cap, you can drop me off ‘ere!”
    She forced a long-suffering smile as a few of them bellowed with laughter, but Lord Jack, with a mystified look, walked toward the bow as the boat drifted closer, coming within a few feet of Eden’s perch.
    The light rain trickled down his broad forehead to his thick, dark eyebrows. He had deep-set, hooded eyes and a large but aquiline nose. A day’s beard shadowed his rugged jaw, adding to his dangerous aura. His lips, she thought, looked a little chapped.
And altogether kissable
.
    The unbidden thought quite startled her.
    “What species of bird is that, do ye reckon?” one of his men persisted, rousing more laughter from his mates.
    Turning redder by the second, Eden frowned, thinking their master just a little wanting in manners for not silencing their sport. Maybe he was a pirate, after all.
    For her part, Eden was beginning to feel a tad foolish, knowing full well that tree-climbing was hardly how
La Belle Assemblée
advised young ladies to behave.
    Alas, here she was being stared at by a magnetic, thoroughly compelling man, whose fleet of ships might be her only ticket out of here—a man whose direct and confident gaze made her heart beat faster—though that, in small part, might have been due to dread.
    As she held his stare, however, unable to look away, she marveled at what fascinating eyes he had. In contrast to his sun-bronzed complexion, they were the turquoise blue of Caribbean waters. She detected a sparkle of amusement in their depths as he perused her, not quite successful in masking his roguish astonishment.
    “You do see her, my lord?” the young officer asked. “Please tell me I have not gone mad in the heat.”
    “Trahern,” he ordered in a calm, authoritative tone, not taking his eyes off her. “Stop the boat.”
    * * *
    No, indeed, the tropical sun had not addled his assistant’s wits unless it had cooked Jack’s, also, for he, too, saw the luscious young redhead in the tree. Straddling the thick bough, she swung her feet a bit self-consciously right above the spot where the pilot now managed to bring the boat to a halt.
    Finding any sort of female on a branch above the Orinoco a hundred miles from any human settlement might have been rather a shock, let alone a stunning beauty with big emerald eyes and, from his quick assessment, perfect proportions.
    Her long chestnut mane hung unbound. Wet with rain, she slicked it back from her face as he watched her, his stare following the auburn tendrils that twined over her delicate shoulders. She wore a light green walking dress with frilly pantalets peeking out from underneath before they disappeared into thick brown boots. Jack could not help staring.
    Her face, a softly rounded oval with a light speckling of freckles, glowed with rain; she had high cheekbones with a peachy complexion and a straight, perfect nose.
    Though not normally given to damsel rescues and other good deeds, he shook off his momentary daze, more than happy to make an exception and play the hero in this case. “Good day, miss,” he greeted her, prepared to offer his assistance. “I see you’ve gotten yourself into a spot of trouble up there.”
    “I have?” she asked warily, tilting her head. “How’s that?”
    Jack furrowed his brow. Her self-possessed response startled him; he had expected more of a cry for help. He glanced discreetly at his men; they shrugged, as perplexed as he.
    He turned to the girl once more as she drew off her leather work gloves and then picked a leaf out of her hair with a small scowl. “Is everything, er, quite all right?”
    “I think so,” she said warily, eyeing him as though he were the