Touch of a Thief by Mia Marlowe Read Free Book Online Page A

of the sheet, treating Quinn to her shadowy silhouette backlit on the fabric.
    Her naked shadowy silhouette. Every curve and line of her form danced on the thin sheet.
    “Is that you, Quinn?”
    “Have you another faux husband on board, madam?”
    “No, thank God. One of you is quite enough.” She peeped around the sheet, showing one smooth bare shoulder. “I’m taking my bath, such as it is. Kindly remain on that side of the cabin.”
    “You have my solemn oath that I will not move from this spot.” The mingled scents of warm woman and light floral wafted around the sheet. His balls clenched. Wild elephants couldn’t drive him away.
    “The captain had two chairs brought in for us. I left one on your side in case you returned before I was done.”
    He was nearly done. He plopped into the chair, not sure his knees would continue to support him.
    She disappeared behind the sheet again, apparently oblivious to the fact that he could make out the dip of her waist, the curve of her calf when she propped a foot on the chair, the swell of her breasts as they fell forward when she bent over to soap her leg.
    He ached to hold them. When she spread her legs to shoulder width and her hand disappeared between her thighs, he nearly groaned aloud.
    “How long will it take us to reach Paris?” she asked.
    Quinn cleared his throat to make sure his voice would work. “Three days, if we have fair weather.”
    Three days of pleasurable agony trapped in the cabin with that siren who’d already turned him down twice. Like Odysseus, he ought to have Sanjay strap him to the mast.
    She was toweling off. Quinn stared at the tips of his boots with complete absorption. If she peered around the sheet again, he didn’t want her to catch him ogling. It was one thing to want a woman. Another thing to be seen wanting.
    “Three days,” she repeated. “Well, I suppose it will give us a chance to become better acquainted.”
    She’d already spurned his efforts on that score. He supposed she meant to talk to him for three days. Sanjay’s suggestion of putting her off in Le Havre was beginning to have real appeal.
    “Tell me, Lieutenant. Why did you go to India in the first place?”
    Reverting to his rank was a step backward. “I thought you’d agreed to call me Quinn.”
    “I agreed to call you Greydon , but you didn’t seem to like it.”
    She emerged from behind the sheet, her unbound hair cascading over her shoulders. Auburn highlights sparked in the flickering lamplight and Quinn decided it was one husbandly perk that had been seriously underrated.
    She wore a blue velvet robe de chambre. It was a bit threadbare in spots, but the garment covered her decently. If she was at home, she might greet early callers in it, but Quinn couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that her breasts were free of their whalebone prison beneath the silver cord frogs that marched down the front of the soft robe.
    She reached up to unhook the sheet. It seemed like a stretch for her, so Quinn stood to help her, starting at the opposite end.
    When they met in the middle, he handed her the sheet and looked down at her. At close range, the neckline of her robe plunged low enough to reveal the shadowed hollow between her breasts. He jerked his gaze back to her eyes, but not quickly enough for it to escape her notice.
    Her lips curved in a slight smile.
    The little minx was teasing him. It would serve her right if he swept her up and plunged his hand down her bodice to claim a soft breast. He knew how to tease a woman beyond bearing. She had no idea whom she was dealing with. Of course, if she was aware of the light show she’d just given, he might be in for a sensual surprise as well. In several respects, Viola Preston was no lady.
    But he was trying to be a gentleman. Mostly.
    Quinn stepped back a pace.
    “You haven’t answered my question.” She moved to close the distance between them again.
    For the life of him, he couldn’t remember what she’d