"I'll bite you instead, you rotter!"
"Perhaps you'd best not yet. I shall have to teach you how to make bites pleasurable. Come now, Diana. You know I can hold out indefinitely. I don't imagine that you can."
"You are a bastard." She leaned down and kissed him quickly, her lips tightly closed.
"There is so much I shall have to teach you." He released her and rose from the bunk.
He gave her a wicked smile before he left the cabin, a blanket wrapped about his waist.
Lyon sat across from Rafael, his leg slung over the arm of his chair, a glass of excellent French brandy in his hand. Rafael, equally relaxed, tossed a card from his hand onto the top of the desk. They were alone in the captain's cabin, a very masculine lair, playing piques.
"Sorry," said Lyon, and placed his queen of hearts on the ten of hearts.
"I wasn't counting," said Rafael as he frowned at the remaining cards in his hand. "I was never much of a gambler. My brother n
ow, well, never mind about him." No, he didn't want to think about Damien, his twin brother.
Lyon played the jack of clubs, saying as he did so, "By any chance are you related to the Carstairs in Cornwall?"
Rafael looked bored.
"I believe their estates are near to St. Austell."
"I have no relatives, anywhere."
Their play continued in silence.
"It's odd, you know," Lyon said. "I remember meeting a Baron Drago some years ago. He was an older man, of course, but if my memory serves me, you have something of the look of him." Lyon, gazing at Rafael through his lowered lashes, saw him pale slightly. I've hit upon a mystery here, he thought, and because he liked Rafael Carstairs, he shrugged and said, "I fear if you keep playing me, you'll lose your ship."
"I'm sometimes a fool, but not that great a fool," said Rafael, relaxing now, knowing that Lord Saint Leven wouldn't touch that particular hornet's nest again. "What is Diana doing?"
"Last time I saw her, she was teaching one of your sailors a better way to make some sort of knot."
Rafael grinned and tossed out another card, only to see it gobbled up. "She is charming," he said. He watched Lyon thoughtfully study the remaining cards in his hand. "I should say, though, that you two should tie the proverbial knot before long."
Lyon dropped his cards.
"I am not a fool, Lyon," Rafael said quietly. "Nor do I wish to pry, but you have set yourself something of a problem."
"How did you know?" It didn't occur to Lyon to lie; as the captain had said, he wasn't a fool.
"Perhaps the wedding ring, or absence of one at first, then Neddie mentioned to Rollo about blankets piled on the floor. Also, you and Diana do not seem like lovers." He paused a moment, then added deliberately, "You are both quite aware of each other, but you are not lovers. At least not yet."
"You are observant," Lyon said at last. "I trust no one else knows of our predicament?"
"No, but Blick is a wily one, probably comes from the fact that he's the son of a Sussex vicar."
"Good God," Lyon said, distracted. "A vicar's son?"
"Yes, indeed. He and his father, well, they don't get along, you might say. In any case, he's said nothing to me about the two of you."
"Diana has been so careful about those wretched blankets of hers. Ah, well, 'tis done."
"No, nothing is done. I consider you a friend and Diana as well. As you know, I am acquainted with her father, Lucien Savarol. He may be a West Indian planter, but he is a gentleman and his daughter is a lady. I wish I could advise you, but ---"
"You were quite right. I have already determined to marry the chit, but she is the one who refuses. I can't very well force her to wed me."
Rafael leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Seduce her," he said.