“Is that because you do not consider me to be a lady?”

  He shook his head. “Because you are the most reckless lady it has ever been my misfortune to meet.” He scowled. “Do your aunt and uncle even know where you have gone?”

  She nodded. “Cecelia will hand them a letter from me at dinner explaining my intentions.”

  Magnus felt a nerve pulsing in his cheek. “In the meantime, I will have to waste precious time in turning my ship around to have you taken ashore before I can set sail for England again.”

  “That will not be necessary,” she dismissed.

  “Why not?” he demanded sharply.

  “I acquired a small portmanteau from Cecelia, rather than one of my own larger trunks, so that I was able to bring a few of my clothes with me in case I needed them. I had it in the boat with me.” She wrinkled her nose. “As that bag has now sunk to the bottom of the ocean, along with the rest of the fishing boat, I am lucky that I kept anything of import in my reticule. Which, although slightly damp, is still attached to my wrist,” she added with a satisfied glance at the small silk bag.

  “I asked why you consider it unnecessary to turn my ship around?” he snapped, impatient with this meandering which, in his opinion, had not answered his question in the slightest.

  Olivia shrugged. “Because as well as apologizing for my behavior yesterday, I had thought I might accompany you to England.”

  Magnus stilled, sure he could not have heard her correctly. “Explain yourself.”

  She winced. “Could I possibly stand and adjust my clothing before doing so?”

  Magnus considered the request for several seconds. On the one hand, he knew he could not continue to keep a bare-arsed Olivia draped over his thighs, but on the other, he wasn’t sure he had finished physically chastising her yet.

  “Yes,” he finally answered abruptly. “With the proviso that if you say or do anything else foolish, I reserve the right to spank your arse a second time.”

  “Third, if we count yesterday,” she corrected with an uncomfortable wince. She used Magnus’s shoulder for balance as she regained her feet on a ship which rocked to and fro from the movement of the waves and wind.

  Magnus sincerely hoped Olivia did not suffer from seasickness. Having a woman on board at all was something many sailors would consider to be bad luck. They were a suspicious lot. But having that same woman on deck being constantly sick over the side, would be even worse.

  Although, thankfully, he did not remember Olivia showing any ill effects when she’d visited his ship.

  “So it would be,” Magnus now conceded without apology.

  Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “I sincerely hope that is not a smile I see hovering about your lips?”

  Magnus immediately straightened his expression to one of polite query. “Not at all.”

  “Hm.” She turned away from him to adjust her undergarment, after which she allowed the skirt of her gown to fall back in place and turned to face him, that chin held stubbornly high. “The reason I wish to speak with you is because I believe I may have misunderstood your reason for calling upon my uncle yesterday morning.”

  Magnus eyed her coldly. “Indeed?”

  “Yes.” She scowled her irritation with his attitude. “I had thought you came to tell him of my shameful behavior the previous evening and to have him admonish me for it.”

  Magnus considered her words for several seconds before replying. “Firstly, if I had considered your behavior shameful, then I believe my actions since should have told you that I would have admonished you for it myself and not left it to another gentleman to do so. Secondly, if your own behavior was shameless, then mine was equally if not more so, considering I am so much older that you. You will notice I did not say wiser,” he added self-derisively. “Because where you are concerned, wisdom does not seem to have a place in my thoughts or actions.”

  Olivia frowned. “Gentlemen of any age are allowed such indiscretions. Ladies are not.”

  “True,” Magnus conceded with contempt for just one of Society’s double standards. “I did not visit your uncle for that reason.”

  “I realize that now.” Her gaze lowered to the wooden floor beneath her slippered feet.

  Wet silk slippers, Magnus noted.

  Unsurprising, when they were completely unsuitable footwear for sailing a small wooden boat out to sea. Or being rescued from that vessel before it was smashed beyond recognition.

  Olivia also claimed her portmanteau, with a change of clothes inside, had been lost when that boat shattered.

  Meaning she was now aboard his ship, with not another stitch of clothing to her name other than what she was now wearing. Clothing which, Magnus had noted when she was draped across his knee, was also damp from where she had almost slipped into the sea as his men literally drag her aboard.

  Altogether, this situation had been an act of pure folly on her part from start to finish.

  “Turn around so that I can unfasten and remove your gown.”

  Olivia’s eyes widened in alarm at the calmly given instruction. “I came to apologize, and—and so that we could possibly talk together, not so that you could—we could continue…”

  “Olivia, your clothes and slippers are wet,” Magnus interrupted her faltering protest. “I will find something of mine for you to wear so that your clothes can be dried and ready for you to put on when we arrive back in England tomorrow.”

  The part of that statement which stood out the most to Olivia was Magnus stating he would “find something of mine for you to wear.” She could imagine, considering the vast difference in their height and size, that the only item of clothing of Magnus’s she could possibly wear was one of his shirts. Even that would no doubt swallow her up.

  The mere thought of being alone in Magnus’s cabin with him, wearing only one of his soft silk shirts, was enough for goose bumps to break out across the tops of her breasts and down her arms and cause her body to quiver.

  “You see how cold you are.” Magnus obviously mistook the reason for her reaction. He turned her briskly and held her in place as he unfastened the buttons of her gown before allowing it to fall in a damp heap at her ankles. He had lifted and removed her chemise too before Olivia even had chance to regain her wits enough to protest.

  She did, however, recover enough to quickly raise her hands to cover her bared breasts when Magnus grasped the tops of her arms and turned her to face him.

  “Ah,” he murmured, no doubt seeing her predicament.

  It was difficult to tell what he was thinking from the closed expression in his eyes before he released her to cross the cabin and lift the lid of the chest in the corner of the room.

  He took out a snowy-white garment before rejoining her. “Try this.”

  As Olivia had thought might be the case, Magnus had given her one of his shirts to wear. The cabin was large enough for her movements not to be hampered, but with the rocking of the ship, it was still awkward trying to maneuver the shirt over her head without revealing her breasts.

  The shirt, as she had suspected, covered her from her throat to her knees, but it did nothing to hide the swollen red berries of her nipples pressing against the fine material.

  “And this.” Magnus held out his brocade robe to her. “It will swamp you and drag a foot or so on the floor, no doubt, but hopefully help to keep you warm and preserve your modesty.”

  Her modesty, perhaps, but the moment Olivia drew that dark robe on and about her, she was overwhelmed by the enticing aroma of Magnus’s cologne and the masculine scent which was unique to him. Her nipples felt even more aching and swollen, tingling with sensitivity as they rubbed against the material of Magnus’s shirt.

  “Take off your drawers too,” he instructed briskly.

  “But—”

  “My patience, what little I have left, is hanging by a thread,” he warned through gritted teeth. “Also, my control over the desire I feel for you, is becoming even more precarious by the second,” he added huskily.

  Olivia looked at him closely, noting the feverish glitter in his eyes, the flush along his cheekbones, and visible tic of a nerve in his clenched jaw.

  He turned away from that searching gaze. “Take off your drawers and put them with the rest of your clothes so that I can arrange to have them dried. I will also organize dinner be served to us in here.”

  She wasn’t sure about having her undergarments seen or touched by one of Magnus’s men, but there was no denying they were damp and uncomfortable to wear. “I should not like to prevent you from joining your officers for dinner, as you no doubt usually do.”

  “I am sure they will manage without me for one evening,” he answered dryly.

  “In fact, they will probably welcome it— Oh.” She gave a wince at her own lack of tact. “What I meant to say was—”

  “I believe I know what you meant, Olivia,” Magnus drawled.

  She wrinkled her nose. “I am sure I am not speaking out of turn—”

  “That will make a change.”

  She glared at him. “When I say that all subordinates welcome a respite from being in the company of the person in overall charge of them,” she finished knowingly.

  Despite all that had gone before, Magnus suddenly heard himself laughing.

  Only this woman, the beautiful, feisty, and outspoken Olivia, could have succeeded in bringing laughter into a situation which was far from humorous. Especially so after the manner in which she had been brought aboard his ship.

  And the reason for it.

  Believing she owed Magnus an apology, Olivia had not hesitated to leave her aunt and uncle’s home without having informed them she was doing so.

  She had then sailed a small boat, which had looked less than seaworthy—

  “I am sure your uncle once told me that he does not like to sail,” Magnus recalled slowly.

  “No.”

  “Then where did you acquire the sailboat?” The fact Olivia’s gaze was suddenly avoiding meeting his warned Magnus he was not going to like her answer.

  “It was moored up in the harbor with a dozen or so others,” she dismissed.

  “Let me see if I understand you correctly.” Magnus frowned. “The boat was moored up in the harbor—”

  “I already said that.”

  “Yes, you did.” His eyes had narrowed to warning slits. “You stole the boat.” It was a statement, not a question.

  She made a flustered movement of her hands. “It was just sitting there alongside the others and looked to be the safest. Once I am in a position to do so, I will write to my uncle enquiring as to whom the boat belongs—belonged to,” she corrected when Magnus raised a censorious brow. “So that I might reimburse them for the loss of their boat.”

  “And in the meantime, a fisherman has, in all probability, been left completely without the means to continue his livelihood and so support his family,” Magnus rebuked.

  Olivia felt the flush of guilt in her cheeks. “I did not think… Do you really think that is what I have done?” She chewed guiltily on her bottom lip.

  “I have no idea,” Magnus answered wearily. “But I feel it is a distinct possibility, yes.”

  “Now I feel positively dreadful for my selfish behavior.” She gave a pained groan. “How can I make this right?”

  He sighed. “When we arrive in England tomorrow, I will make arrangements for word to be sent to the island for the fisherman to be recompensed for the few days’ fishing he has lost, and a new boat be purchased for him.”

  “Why should you be the one to recompense him when I am responsible for stea—taking his boat without his permission?” Olivia corrected as she frowned in puzzlement.

  “Why?” Magnus picked up her wet clothing and slippers before crossing the cabin to open the door into the hallway. “Despite what you may have said—shouted at me—yesterday morning in regard to the possibility of becoming my wife, our fate was decided the moment you impetuously set out to talk with me aboard my ship this evening. Because of that behavior, I now have the right, indeed it is my obligation, to make reparation to the fisherman on your behalf.”

  Olivia appeared somewhat taken aback by the statement. “My fate has not been decided, by my own actions or anyone else’s,” she rallied to defend.

  “I am afraid that it has.” Magnus smiled derisively. “You are now alone with me aboard my ship. You will be spending the night in my cabin with me.”

  “Surely there are other cabins I could use?” she demanded sharply.

  “None that I would feel comfortable allowing you to sleep in alone. Nor,” he continued as she would have protested again, “am I comfortable leaving you to sleep in my cabin whilst I find other accommodation. Not when both those options result in you sleeping somewhere alone tonight and therefore vulnerable.”

  Her eyes flashed a deep purple. “I am not vulnerable!”

  “I am sorry to contradict you, my dear, but in these circumstances, that is exactly what you are. There are eight hundred men aboard this ship, good sailors all, but it would be foolish of me to vouch for their character when there is a woman aboard.”

  “Surely any admiral worth his salt—” She broke off when Magnus chuckled. “It was not meant to be a humorous remark.”

  “Nevertheless, that is exactly what it was.” He sobered. “As for being worth my salt, there only needs to be the evil intentions of one insubordinate sailor, and your virtue would become a thing of the past. He would pay for that transgression with his life, but it would not change the outcome for you nor take away the memory of that assault.”

  “You are simply trying to frighten me.”

  “Believe me, if I wished to frighten you, then I would not ‘simply try’ to do so,” Magnus rasped. “What I have done is state the truth of the situation. That being the case, I suggest you reconcile yourself to the fact you will be sleeping in this cabin with me tonight, leaving your virtue well and truly compromised.”

  “I—”

  “No matter what your feelings on the subject,” he continued firmly, “this situation leaves me with no option, when we reach your parents’ home in London, but to ask your father for your hand in marriage.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Olivia could only stare at the cabin door Magnus had closed so quietly behind him when he left just a few minutes ago after making a statement which caused her heart to pound and made her palms damp.

  Magnus couldn’t have made it any clearer that, whatever his initial intention in offering her marriage, he definitely now considered himself as having been compromised into making that offer.

  The last thing Olivia had wished to happen.

  Wasn’t it?

  Yes, she may have behaved a little recklessly in stealing a boat and then sailing out to Magnus’s ship for the purpose of speaking privately with him.

  It was also perhaps a little naïve of her to have decided that, once on board, she might as well return to England with him.

  But she had not done any of those things with the intention of trapping Magnus into marrying her.

  No, the only reason for her impetuous behavior was that she had wanted to see Magnus again before he left the island. To spend a little more time with him before they reached London and never saw each other again.

  She had not meant for him to feel he had to make an offer for her.

  Something she intended to make perfectly clear to him once he returned to his cabin.

  Along with her repeated refusal to marry him.

  Even if she did love him beyond all reason.

  Magnus ignored all the curious sideways glances being sent his way by his officers and crew alike as he strode toward the galley with the intention of speaking to the cook regarding having dinner served to Olivia and himself in his cabin. He also intended to instruct that a way should be found to dry Olivia’s clothing in the warm confines of that room.

  Having issued those instructions, Magnus wasted several more minutes seeking out and talking with his captain regarding the tide, wind, and weather. Subjects which had already been discussed before they set sail and which no doubt accounted for the glimmer of sympathy in the other man’s eyes.

  As a consequence, those subjects were quickly exhausted, leaving Magnus with no choice but to return to his quarters.

  To the cabin where Olivia waited for him.

  Wearing only Magnus’s shirt and robe, both of which looked ridiculous on her, and beneath which he knew she was completely naked.

  Magnus only just stopped himself from groaning out loud at the very thought of removing those garments and baring Olivia’s luscious, naked curves.

  Perhaps, once he returned, he might provoke her into doing or saying something outrageous and deserving of another spanking—

  Dear God, this woman was driving him insane!

  With need.

  With want.

  With lust.

  The last of those emotions slammed into his body with the force of a tornado, causing a rush of blood to his cock the moment he stepped into his cabin and looked at Olivia.

  She was standing in the middle of the room, with his robe almost wrapped around her twice, her bare toes peeping out from beneath the foot of brocade material dragging on the floor, and with her damp hair now loose about her slender shoulders. Presumably so that it would dry more quickly.

  Whatever the reason, that dark, almost black hair, now cascaded in a tumble of silky waves halfway down her back.

  Silky dark hair Magnus’s fingers itched to become entangled in as he held Olivia’s head in place so that his lips could plunder and claim hers. As he longed to claim and taste her. All of her. Every velvety soft inch of her.

  Instead, he remained standing just in front of the closed cabin door, not trusting himself to go anywhere near her again until he had brought the throbbing demand of his engorged cock back under his control.

  Which, as Olivia looked at him almost shyly from beneath thick dark lashes, did not show any signs of happening in his immediate future.

  Even his reserves of control had gone.