Chapter 34

"S AME COURTESY" REALLY HAD BEEN THE KEY PHRASE. Gabrielle had actually assumed she'd be put in the hold with her crew, but that's not what she'd done with Drew, and he was giving her back tit for tat exactly, including the same area of his cabin that he'd occupied—and the shackle.

He put the damn thing on her himself and seemed to take an inordinate amount of pleasure in doing so. Unlike Timothy's chain, Drew's was still firmly attached to the wall. It had been removed from him normally, the tools that had opened it still lying there on the floor. So it was in good if rusty shape, for her use.

But Drew didn't need to use the tools. He pulled a padlock out of his pocket that he must have found before he went looking for her, proving that this had been what he intended for her before he even entered her cabin. Had he intended the lovemaking, too, or had that, at least, been spontaneous? She wasn't going to ask.

She tried to ignore his fingers touching her leg as he fastened the cold metal around her bare ankle, but like everything else that had occured tonight, she had no luck with that either. She watched him, though, with a mixture of rage and bruised feelings. There was a tightness in her chest, but she couldn't imagine what was causing it. Indigestion, she hoped.

He glanced up to smile at her when he was done. She glared back at him. He chuckled softly and moved over to his bed. He removed only his boots and shirt to sleep, stretched widely with his arms, then almost dove at the soft mattress. It was a wonder the bed didn't break with that much weight falling on it. Turning over on his back, he crossed his arms behind his head. His sigh of pleasure filled the entire room.

But less than a minute later he said, "Damn, I can smell you on my pillow."

"So wash it," she shot back.

He laughed and turned over, facing away from her, and about ten minutes later she heard some quiet snoring. She ought to make some noise to wake him. He'd certainly tried to keep her awake when their positions had been reversed, and with the most outlandish descriptions of how he wanted to pleasure her, too. She was going to have to give that some thought. Tit for tat in that regard? After all, just because he had his ship back didn't mean she was going to abandon her plan of revenge. Although how she could ever make herself attempt to entice a scoundrel, no, a blackguard, no, a devil like Drew Anderson, she didn't know. She shook her head and took stock of her surroundings.

He'd left burning the lamp that was bolted to his desk. So she could see to get settled in? No, he probably just forgot to extinguish it, or maybe it was a habit of his, to sleep with a light. But it made it easy to see that the bedding he'd been given was still there for her to use, as well as the chamber pot, which was thankfully empty at the moment, and his empty plate from dinner.

Her eyes went back to the chamber pot and stayed there with a frown. Good heavens, how was she going to manage that now? Would he give her any privacy at all? If he didn't, she'd make him wish he had. She'd just have to forget the word "embarrassment" for a while.

She started to change her clothes to get more decent to sleep but stopped, deciding she'd rather have the loose comfort of the robe. Actually…

Why not? She took the robe off, too. Let him have an eyeful in the morning if he bothered to look. It might make him wild with desire, which she could then nip in the bud, because she wasn't about to let that happen again. The more he wanted her, the closer she'd get to her revenge. But what if he didn't want her anymore, now that he'd had her? Damn, she hadn't thought of that. Well, she wouldn't know the answer to that until another day. For now, she had to try to get some sleep herself.

With a sigh she lay down and wrapped herself in Drew's blankets—bloody hell, she could smell him, too. She was going to have to demand fresh bedding. Tomorrow. Pulling her legs up to curl into a ball, she felt that cold iron scrap against her ankle.

She sighed again and sat back up to examine the metal constriction; precisely, she tested how rough the shackle was going to be against her skin. It had abraded his. She'd like to avoid that if she could. It had been much tighter on him, of course. It had been built for a man's foot, not a woman's. She moved it to see how much give and take she actually had, then stared incredulously as it slipped right off her foot.

She had to put her hand over her mouth to help conceal her laughter. And she didn't waste a moment, immediately slipping her robe back on and tiptoeing straight to the door. And she found it locked tight.

She silently swore a blue streak to herself as she returned to the bedding on the floor. She heard Drew mumble. He'd heard her. But he didn't wake and she glared furiously at his naked back before she got back under the blankets. She even slipped the shackle back over her foot. There would be other opportunities when that door wouldn't be locked. She smiled and looked forward to tomorrow.