“Yes,” she nodded, “I believe so.” She shot a glance over her shoulder.
“Can I fetch you some water, perhaps?”
“No, thank you. I’m feeling much better.” She laid a hand on his sleeve. The lights from the ballroom filtered through the sheer fabric adorning the doors and accented the attractive angles of his face. “Are you always so kind, Captain?”
He gave her another small grin. “Unless I’m ordered otherwise.”
“You are in His Majesty’s service.” Samantha responded coyly and curtseyed.
“Aye, and loyal to king and country.” He inclined his head in a small bow.
“And steadfast in your duty?” she teased.
Captain Steele stood tall. “I know of no other way.”
The doors to the veranda flew open. Music and the hum of conversation tumbled out as Damian Wessler rushed from the ballroom. He stood for a moment at the railing, peering into the shadowed pathways of the Whitmore’s formal gardens.
Blood rushed in Samantha’s ears. Fear and panic caused her to clutch at Captain Steele’s sleeves. “Forgive me, sir.” she whispered before rising on tiptoes to crush her mouth to his.
“Madam—” Captain Steele put his hands to her waist and gently tried to push her away.
Samantha heard Wessler’s curse behind her. She tightened her grip. “Please, Captain, I’ve no time to explain,” She rushed. “Play along.” She slipped her arm about his neck, angled her mouth, and kissed him again.
Wessler’s boot heels punctuated each stride as he marched toward them. He wrenched her out of Captain Steele’s grasp. “What in the bloody hell—” he snapped. His eyes held a murderous rage as he growled into Samantha’s face. His jowls trembled with barely contained fury.
Samantha wiped at the corner of her mouth. She flashed Wessler a coy smile. “You can’t blame me for stealing a simple kiss.” She shot a nervous glance at the Captain. In the dim light, she couldn’t read his face, but the increasing bite of Wessler’s fingers interrupted all else.
She faked a small stumble and a tiny burp. A forced giggle through her gloved fingertips capped her performance. “Whatever was in the punch? I’m so lightheaded.”
“You’ll pardon us, sir, but Mistress Christian,” he jerked her to his side, “and I need to bid you a good eve.” As he spoke, his grip continued to tighten. “Come along, my dear,” he snarled as he jerked at her arm. “Didn’t I warn you not to drink too much this evening? Time to get you home.”
Samantha pushed at his punishing hand. “We shouldn’t be rude to the Whitmore’s distinguished guest.” She shot Captain Steele an embarrassed glance. He was watching the exchange between her and Wessler. A frown knit his brows. “Another dance, Captain?”
“We’re leaving,” bit Wessler.
“The spirits were rather potent tonight. Perhaps, Mistress Christian simply needs a bit more air, Mister…?” Captain Steele held out his hand.
Damian had to release her arm to return the Captain’s handshake. She couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped her. Her fingers wrapped around her battered skin.
“Wessler. Damian Wessler. I own the Blackwater Plantation. Mistress Christian is in my employ, and she can be rather wild. Undisciplined. Ignorant to social protocol. Almost defiant.” The last words he directed toward her as he reached for her once more. “If you’ll excuse us.”
Samantha started to thank the captain for his kindness, but Wessler jerked her away. His vise-like fingers left little room for argument. He dragged her back through the crowded ballroom and past a horrified Rebecca.
“We—we need to t-thank our hosts.” She resisted the strength of his pull, casting a pleading glance back at Rebecca. She’d rushed to Isabelle’s side, and now both women watched their hasty departure, concern etched on their faces.
“And give you yet another opportunity to humiliate me?” He wrenched her arm, causing her to gasp as he snarled into her ear. “Shut your fucking mouth and keep moving, or—”
“Or what? I’ll live to regret it?”
Meet the Author
Lisa A. Olech is an artist/writer living in her dream house nestled among the lakes in New England. She loves getting lost in a steamy book, finding the perfect pair of sexy shoes, and hearing the laughter of her men. Being an estrogen island in a sea of testosterone makes her queen. She believes in ghosts, silver linings, the power of a man in a tuxedo, and happy endings. For more please visit lisaolech.com.
Table of Contents
Cover Copy
Books by Lisa Olech
Within A Captain’s Soul
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Author’s Note
Within A Captain’s Power
Chapter 1
Meet the Author
Within A Captain's Soul Page 20
