Adrian's jaw clenched.

Did she win the game?

He wasn't even sure it was a game anymore. As happy as he'd been to take her up on her challenge, and as much as he had enjoyed taunting her... his desire was real. He'd wanted to kiss her. More, he wanted her in his damn bed. But he'd been an idiot and asked her about the man who was the reason for her journey.

Why? Jealousy?

Dash.

The name hung in the air between them like a tangible thing. Anthony Dashcombe. His friend. His schoolmate's brother...and apparently the man Olivia was risking everything to chase across an ocean. Out of all the men in England, it had to be Anthony Bloody Dashcombe.

He liked Dash. The man was a rogue who could charm the skirts off any woman, and a bigger rake than Adrian had ever been. Was Olivia one of the women left discarded once Dash inevitably moved on?

"Adrian?" His name on her lips brought his attention back to her. To the playful challenge in her eyes, the slight curl of her lips.

She'd said she was good at this game too. Was Dash the one who had taught her? The thought needled him more than he cared to admit.

"You should get some rest," he said gruffly, turning away from her to hide his scowl "It's been a long day."

Olivia's hand on his arm stopped him. "Not so fast, Captain."There was a teasing lilt in her voice, she obviously hadn't noticed his change in mood. Or she was purposefully ignoring it. "You didn't answer my question. Do I win our little game?"

Turning back to her, he raised one eyebrow. "What exactly do you think winning entails, Miss Newton?"

She shrugged, a mischievous smile playing on her lips, but there was a flicker of hesitancy in her grey eyes. "I don't know. You're the one who started it, with all your teasing and your wicked words. I'm just playing along."

A dark chuckle escaped him. "You should never participate in a game where you don't know the stakes."

"Why not?" She lifted her chin, refusing to back down, and it sparked the wicked devil sitting on his shoulder.

He stalked back towards her, his movements purposeful and predatory. She stared at him with wide eyes, backing up until her shoulders hit the wall behind her. Planting his hands on either side of her head, he caged her in with his body.

"Sweetheart," he said, his voice low and rough. "If this were truly a game, you'd already have lost. You'd be naked in my bed, writhing and gasping as I tasted every damn inch of you."

She inhaled sharply and her cheeks stained red, but he didn't miss the widening of her pupils or the way she rubbed her thighs together. A spear of desire shot straight to his groin. Bloody hell. He wasn't helping either of them like this.

"So maybe make sure you know the stakes and are willing to risk losing before you play." Pushing away from the wall, he backed away from her. He didn't even know anymore if he was telling the truth or if he was still playing to win. Because he wanted to do exactly what he'd threatened.

"I—I..." Olivia stammered.

A wry smile twisted his lips. "Games of seduction only end one way. In bed. Or perhaps on a desk if one fancies that."

"That can't be right."

"What?" He leaned his hips against his desk, pleased to see her gaze flick to it and her cheeks flush pink. "I assure you desks are absolutely a possibility."

"No," she muttered, her cheeks darkening even further. "I mean seduction doesn't only end one way. The other party could reject you."

"Is that what happened with you and Dash?" The question tumbled out of him before he could stop it.

She scoffed. "No. Like I said, Dash barely registers I'm a woman."

"I find that difficult to believe." Crossing his arms over his chest, he met her narrowed gaze. How could any man look at her and not want her, not cherish her?

"Why? Because he's a rake and should seduce any woman?" She rolled her eyes, but there was a new sharpness in her tone.

"So you know he's a rake."

"Yes, we've been friends for years, and I'm not blind." Wrapping her arms around herself, her gaze dropped to her feet. "Nor am I blind to his faults. But love doesn't consider whether someone is suitable or not, and despite his shortcomings, Dash is a good man."

His 'shortcomings' being his need to bed every available woman in England. And apparently now in America. Adrian held back a snort. Yes, Dash was a good man, but he was not anywhere near ready to settle down. This pursuit of Olivia's was bound to fail, but he doubted it was a truth she was willing to listen to.

"Well, far be it for me to stand in the way of true love." He couldn't quite keep the sarcasm out of his voice, and she heard it too, her lips pressing together in annoyance. "I will deliver you safely to America and your brother's widow so you may seek out Dash."

"Thank you," she replied stiffly.

"Now go to bed. You can take care of the dishes in the morning."

"What about you?"

"I will retire shortly." He needed a stiff drink after today's revelations.

Once Olivia had disappeared into the quarter gallery that housed their sleeping area, he sank down in the chair behind his desk and found a glass and the brandy bottle. Pouring himself a generous two fingers, he then proceeded to drain it much quicker than was advisable. Bloody hell.

He'd been so close to kissing her earlier, and he was fairly certain she would have let him. Maybe Dash held Olivia's heart, but she was not unaffected by the attraction sparking between them. And if she was as innocent as she portrayed herself to be, he couldn't very well seduce her. Even ignoring her feelings for Dash—which was damned hard to do—she was not the type of woman he would usually seek out. He'd only ever courted one woman who required marrying, and she had chosen someone else over him.

It was not an experience he wanted to live through again.

Annoyed by the direction of his thoughts, he poured himself another glass. By the time he had finished it, his head felt pleasantly buzzed even if he couldn't quite let go of his frustration. He put the glass and bottle away before entering the quarter gallery to go to bed.

Olivia stood next to the hammock, her sable hair now tied back in a thick braid that rested over her shoulder. For once, she wasn't fully clothed for bed, dressed in only a long, white shirt that reached her knees. It did little to hide her curves, shadowed against the fabric in the flickering candlelight. She'd unbound her breasts, and Adrian thought he might stop breathing.

She was, quite simply, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

Swallowing hard, he forced himself to look away. To remember the boundaries between them. Somehow, that only fuelled his irritation further, and he desperately wanted to punish someone. For what, he wasn't sure, but he needed an outlet for his frustration. And so he proceeded to undress in front of her, her eyes wide in shock.

He pulled his shirt over his head, pleased to see her gaze rake over his bare chest. Good. Let her stare. Pretending not to notice her, he set his boots away next to the bed. With a side-eye in her direction, he dropped his hands to the buttons of his breeches.

"C... Captain?" she squeaked. "Should you be doing that?"

"What's that?" He gave her his most innocent look. "I thought you'd be used to this by now. And since you love Dash, surely seeing another man undressed wouldn't bother you?"

He could see the exact moment her temper flared to life in the narrowing of her eyes.

"It doesn't."

"Good. Because I prefer sleeping naked."

Her mouth dropped open. "Naked?"

"Yes." He levelled her with a challenging stare. "Is that an issue?"

"No," she bit off. "But you haven't slept naked before now. Always keeping either your breeches or shirt on."

"True," he allowed. "It was only to spare your sensibilities, but since your heart is occupied by Dash, surely you would not begrudge me my preferred mode of sleeping?"

"By all means." She waved her hand as if it mattered none to her.

Adrian smirked. It was as if the devil had gripped him, he couldn't stop. He unbuttoned his breeches, his eyes never leaving hers. She swallowed but refused to look away, even when he dropped the piece of clothing to the floor. In fact, she was extremely careful to only meet his eyes and not let her gaze stray to where his body was now fully on display.

"Good night, Olivia." He lay down in bed and pulled the covers up to his waist. There were limits to how far even he was willing to go.

"Good night, Captain."

Struck by a thought, he raised himself on his elbows. "You'll have to excuse me for not offering the bed and taking the hammock myself," he said. "It would be the gentlemanly thing to do. But one of the advantages of being the captain is not having to sleep in a hammock."

"Maybe you're just not a gentleman," she suggested grumpily.

"Maybe not." He glanced down at the floor where Ignacio lay staring up at him. Was that reproach in the reptile's eyes? If it was, it wasn't as if he didn't deserve it. And yet...

"You can always join me in the bed." It was a taunt. A challenge she would never be up for.

Her chin lifted a fraction of an inch. "Yes, please."

His heart stuttered in his chest. He had not expected her to take him up on the offer. But she was meeting his challenge with one of her own. And god damn it, but he would not be the one to back down. Even as his mind flooded with visions of tangled limbs and heated skin. Of holding her, of burying his face in her hair and breathing in the scent... Bloody hell!

Why was he torturing himself?

Lifting the blankets, while still keeping himself covered, he grinned at Olivia, who still hadn't moved.

"Go on. Get in, then."

He prayed she wouldn't. He prayed that she would.

Several moments passed, and he wasn't sure he breathed a single breath, and then Olivia squared her shoulders and took the few steps to the bed. Another moment as she stared at him, challenging him to fold. To rescind his scandalous offer. He just smiled wider and held the blankets up for her.

Her gaze wavered for a second, glancing down at his naked form hidden under the covers. But, as he was coming to learn, she was nothing if not stubborn, so the next moment she lay down next to him. He almost laughed. Who was torturing who here?

"Good night, Captain," she said all too sweetly. "Thank you for letting me share your bed. It's ever so much more comfortable than the hammock."

Maybe for her. His body was already reacting to her presence. As she nestled into the plump pillows, he tried not to notice the way the candlelight played over her hair, or the way her lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she closed her eyes. She looked delectable and he wanted to run his tongue over every inch of that smooth skin.

Dear lord, this was going to be a long night.

~~~~~~