“Let me go,” Frederica jerked her arm away from Gaston.

“But, my darling, can I help it if an impending battle makes me randy? It’s the anticipation. It excites me.” He encircled her waist from behind and buried his face in the tender curve where her neck met her collarbone. His lips pressed hot against her skin, and her irritation waned slightly.

“I don’t understand you. Aren’t you concerned?” She wriggled to get free, but he held her tighter. Their cabin was lit by a single lantern and Frederica peered from the window out into the black. On a night this dark, there was no differentiating between the air and the sea; both melded into an inky black veil settling over the ship.

“What good will that do me? Our plan of attack is sound. The men are prepared. There is nothing left to do but bide our time until daybreak, my love. Please allow me to defile you.” His erection nudged at the cleft of her ass insistently.

Frederica giggled. Normally, she welcomed her handsome husband’s advances, but this morning she was preoccupied. On the brink of battle with the cruelest enemy she had ever known, she was up long before the sunrise, nervous. Within a matter of hours they would face Humphrey, captain of the Neptune’s Damnation, and the thought of it made her sick to her stomach. “What if he won’t surrender?”

“He definitely won’t surrender,” Gaston scoffed.

“This will be a disaster, I just know it.” Frederica wrung her hands.

“‘Twill be nothing of the sort. We will simply take him alive and sink his ship.” Gaston’s hands roamed over her breasts, and she let out a heavy breath, as he slowly awakened a primal craving within her. He had that effect on her, always had.

“You speak as if it is a foregone conclusion, as if there is no need to allow events to unfold.” Ever since the first day she’d met Gaston, Frederica had been both annoyed and impressed by Gaston’s confidence. Over the years she had found that it sprang less from arrogance than from optimism. Gaston chose not to entertain the possibility of failure because he considered such contemplation a waste of time and energy. Once, when discussing an imminent battle with a particularly vicious band of pirates he’d told her, “Whatever the outcome, the amount of time you allow yourself troubling thoughts has no influence whatsoever on the end result.”

She only wished she could be as cool under pressure. Her stomach had turned itself in knots and she felt the urge to vomit.

“Freddie,” Gaston groaned insistently as he unlaced the front of her blouse. “I must have you.”

His words set off a twinge of desire, despite how immersed she was in her worries. “Oh, all right.” Yielding to him, she inhaled his musky scent and embraced the wanton appetite he’d awakened. The stubble of his beard tickled her neck as he nibbled her flesh, and she closed her eyes in an attempt to shut out the rest of the world.

“Forget Humphrey, my dear. Let me remove him from your mind.”