Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Silence. A glaring, cold, stone wall of silence.
I shouldn’t have come down here.
The man was locked in irons, stripped of weapons, and still managed to overpower me.
I hugged my waist and closed my eyes, wishing with all my heart I could feel my father’s arms around me again. I missed him terribly. My mother, too.
What was the point of anything if I didn’t have someone to fight for and fight with, to love and hate, to miss and be missed?
The only person still alive to miss me was my husband. And despite his unforgivable betrayal, he was the one I missed the most.
I missed the feel of him, the vibration of his voice against my cheek, the comforting, euphoric sensations only he could stir in me. I missed our conversations, his thought-provoking words in my ear while he held me tight against muscle that was molded and buffed like shining armor.
The truth was I hadn’t come down here for the compass. What I sought had been missing for two years.
I wasn’t usually this needy. From the moment I heard about Charles Vane’s capture, I’d been off-balance. Then came his death, Priest’s sudden appearance, the missing compass—all of it was clouding my judgment.
“Bennett.” Silver-gray eyes commanded my attention, glinting like blades, sharp enough to shorten my breaths. They weren’t the eyes of a captive in shackles, for they showed no fear. “I’m calling a cease-fire. A temporary truce.”
“Your games wear thin.”
“No games. No deceit. No seduction. We’re going to yield. Just for a little while.”
“Priest Farrell surrender? That’ll be the day.”
“No. We’re simply going to set aside our disputes. The fighting, name-calling, resenting—it will all be waiting once you’re rested and ready to pick up where we left off. In the meantime, you’re going to walk over here, get some sleep, and I’m going to hold you while you do.”
What he offered was too good to be true. There was a catch, a trick up his sleeve. Only there were no sleeves. No shirt on that delectable body.
That was the trap. Half-naked Priest held the advantage, and when he looked at me, he saw my weaknesses. My vulnerabilities. He knew precisely how to hurt me.
“Stop over-thinking it.” He stretched out his legs and opened his arms. “Be a good girl and come here. Right now.”
I didn’t trust him. Not at all. I was the one in charge. The captain of this ship.
But he’d always been my captain. The one I could depend on while one-hundred-and-twenty men depended on me.
I saw myself slipping off the cask, my tired legs carrying me toward his waiting arms. I saw him guiding me onto his lap. Tucking my head into the warm, solid juncture of his bare shoulder and neck. Rocking me into a peaceful lull. Murmuring in his dulcet Welsh baritone. Stroking my hair, my arm, my face. I saw us sinking into the intimacy of our bodies, breathing into it, into that space where our heat gathered, where our scents mingled and fused, where there was no physical contact yet a full-body awareness of its existence.
It was unreal, just imagining it. Remembering it. I craved the feeling. Yearned to collect it, bottle it, and carry it with me always. Maybe if I indulged one more time…
No, no, I needed to stop. My heart was too broken, my head too crowded with conflict.
Priest had fooled me once, but I couldn’t regret that failure. How else would I learn, if not from my own mistakes?
I blinked, drew in a breath, and forced myself to see what was really in front of me. No matter how hard we tried or how much we changed, the shattered remains of yesterday would never fit into today. Too many broken pieces.
He gazed at me with unblinking focus, assessing my body language, studying my expressions, tracking my every breath.
I couldn’t stand it. “You can drop that silent stare. I’m not that interesting.”
“I disagree.” He patted his lap. “Come.”
“Ask me.” I leaned forward and hardened my eyes. “Beg.”
He made a fierce face, complete with a bestial snarl, flared nostrils, and bared teeth. Just when I thought he would explode, he reined it all in.
“Will you sit with me?” His jaw worked through grinding resistance before he bit out the rest. “Please, sit with me?”
“No.”
“Dammit, woman!” He flew to his feet, rattling the chain and flexing his arms. “Let me hold you for one godforsaken minute!”
“Forget it, Priest. Or better yet…” I rose from the barrel, fighting exhaustion. “Forget me.”
“Never.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“Remind me.”
“Free me, and I’ll show—”
“Now, now, my unfaithful knave. I cannot trust you aboard my ship unless I carry you as a prisoner, for we both know you’ll be caballing with my men, clapping me in those irons, and running away with my ship a-pirating.”
“Unshackle me, and I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you—”