The Irresistible Rogue (Playful Brides #4)(62)

Rafe sat up and quickly divested himself of his breeches. Once they were gone, he moved back and settled atop her. He kissed her deeply, his mouth shaping hers. With his knee, he pushed her legs wider. Daphne held her breath. Then his hard hotness was between her legs, nudging at her wet warmth, seeking its place.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Daphne’s eyes went wide. The knock on the door shocked her. “No!” she whispered fiercely against his strong neck.

Rafe groaned and rolled to his side.

“What is it?” he growled. “And by God, if it’s anything other than this ship being on fire, I’m going to—”

“Captain,” came Salty’s voice. “The men from the tavern. They’re here. They rowed out and have asked to speak with you immediately.”

Rafe’s second groan was painful. He vaulted from the bed in a lightning flash. “Daphne, I’m sorry but there’s no time for you to dress. You must hide in the closet.” He pulled his shirt over her head to hide her nakedness. “I’d meet them on the deck but if they say anything you can interpret—”

“I understand.” She nodded jerkily.

“Show them in,” Rafe commanded Salty. Rafe grabbed his breeches and yanked them up over his hips. Then he ripped the hammock from the beams and shoved it into the cabinet.

Daphne moved from the bed on legs that felt like water. Somehow she managed to gather her clothing from the corner and rush into the closet with the wad of fabric in her arms. Just before she pulled the door shut behind her, she saw Rafe jump into the mussed bed. Apparently he would pretend he’d been sleeping.

She held her breath. She knew what she must do. Not draw attention to herself. If the Russians opened the door and discovered her hiding and holding boy’s clothing, the entire ruse would be up and she and Rafe might be killed on the spot. Not to mention she must listen to hear if they said anything to each other in Russian. But standing there in the closet, shivering and fearful, was hardly conducive to spying. She held her breath so tightly she thought her ribs might crack.

She heard the door to the cabin open and the footsteps of the two men entering the room. “Good evening, Captain.” It was Anton’s voice. “We do hope we’re not interrupting anything.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR




“Not at all, gentlemen,” Rafe replied, waving the two men into the room. “I’d retired for the evening but I can always make time for two of my best customers.” He pushed himself up against the wall. He glanced around furtively but kept his eyes hooded so the men couldn’t see. Daphne had managed to gather all of her clothing, thank God.

Anton plopped himself into the chair. Rafe leaned back, still trying to calm his breathing. Viktor sauntered over and leaned against the door to the closet, which didn’t help Rafe’s breathing one bit. He could only hope Daphne was completely silent in there.

“We thought we’d come out and see your rig,” Viktor explained.

Rafe didn’t believe it for a moment. They weren’t in the habit of paying friendly calls. They wanted to make certain that the crew was a crew and the ship was a ship. Which meant they were suspicious and that wasn’t good.

“Where’s your boy? What’s his name, Grey is it?” Viktor asked in his heavy accent.

Rafe matched his gaze calmly. “He’s asleep with the rest of the crew, I expect.”

“I would like to see the hold,” Anton added.

“Absolutely,” Rafe answered, knowing full well that they wanted to see the hold to ensure there were actually more goods on the ship. Another sign they were suspicious. They wouldn’t be disappointed. The War Office had packed the hold tightly. Not a detail left to chance in this ruse. “I’ll take you there momentarily,” Rafe said. “But first, what of the letters?”

“We’ve got them,” Viktor said. “If we like what we see in the hold, we’ll bring them to you tomorrow. At the tavern.”

“Very well. Let me get the key.” Rafe tossed back the sheet and stood. He made his way over to the desk. Anton stood and moved out of the way and Rafe rifled inside his desk drawer for a bit too long. They were speaking in Russian and he hoped Daphne could hear.

Finally, he turned to them, the key in his hand. “Ah, here it is. Follow me, gentlemen.”

*

Daphne counted one hundred before opening the closet door and tentatively stepping out. She dressed more quickly than she ever had in her life. Her heart still beat like a drum in her chest. She’d been holding her breath in there. Her ear pressed to the wood to hear the two smugglers speak.

Her head was no longer fuzzy. She crawled back into the bed, shaking a bit at the memory of what had almost happened here not an hour earlier. She didn’t allow herself to think about it, though. Instead, she concentrated on remembering what the two men had said to each other. Because she had heard. Every word.

Rafe returned over a quarter of an hour later, and by then, Daphne’s heartbeat had returned to normal and she had restored a semblance of calm to her face. She was lying in the bunk, staring at the ceiling and repeating the Russians’ words over and over again so she wouldn’t forget them.

Rafe opened the door and eyed her cautiously.

“Are they gone?” she asked, pushing up on her elbows to look at him.