She stretched her arm, and he caught her in a firm grip. The touch sent a ripple of awareness all the way down to her toes. Okay, it had been way too long since she’d been on a date.
He held her steady while she kicked her leg up and he pulled her into the crow’s nest beside him. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. The endorphins drowned her in a rush of bliss. She’d made it.
He released her from his grasp, and she almost reached for him. Almost.
Her chest heaved with the exertion. “What a rush.”
He nodded with a smile as his gaze wandered over her like a caress. “Aye.”
She forced herself to break eye contact and stared at the never-ending ocean spread out from all angles. They had to be over one hundred feet above the deck. She wasn’t afraid of heights, but being in the solid crow’s nest instead of the unsteady swaying of the ratlines seemed more secure. The moonlight danced on the water below, and north of the ship, a pod of dolphins leaped out of the sea.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
An understatement, but she couldn’t find better words to describe it.
She glanced over at Greyson, suddenly aching to touch him, to thank him for this gift, this peace she’d never known existed. The recurring nightmare usually left her feeling vulnerable and weak, but he’d given her her strength back. Probably unknowingly, but it still counted for something.
Ever since the night she’d discovered her partner had been a demon, she’d doubted her own judgment when it came to people. Jones had come to her apartment with pizza and beer many times, and she’d never suspected he wasn’t what he seemed.
Maybe he’d only befriended her to find out if she was the chosen one. Whatever that meant. She’d spent so many months with him and trusted him to cover her while danger swirled around them. How could she have missed something so sinister?
It was easier not to trust anyone than to allow herself to depend on someone and be let down again.
But Greyson had kept his word. She didn’t fall. Not literally, anyway.
Enough with this unwanted attraction. She leaned her elbows on the railing, watching the dolphins play in the cool glow of the moon, wishing she could freeze time right here.
Maybe tomorrow would never come.
Chapter Seven
The gentle sea breeze tugged at Aura’s tousled hair.
Her terror-filled screams earlier had awakened the protector inside him. He’d spent lifetimes defending first his crew, and then clients as a bodyguard, and now with his own security company. His instincts were to shield others. His own safety rarely entered into the equation.
But something about hearing Aura shriek had gone beyond instinct and duty. He hadn’t known her long, but she’d seemed fearless, with a chip on her shoulder to prove herself. He hadn’t known she was sleeping at the time, and the realization that she could die had burrowed into his consciousness until he could hardly breathe.
Whatever had haunted her dreams and made her cry out like that must’ve been a horror of epic proportion.
She was beautiful and deadly, an irresistible combination in his book, but now he recognized something else hidden in the shadows of her spirit.
When he’d seen her smile earlier, he’d caught a brief glimpse of her without the badge. The joy in her grin at target practice made the screams in the middle of the night nag at him.
He’d experienced his own nightmares for decades after he escaped the gallows and joined the Sea Dog crew. Every night he’d find himself with a noose around his neck and wake up drenched in sweat. He’d learned that surviving trauma didn’t mean it disappeared. It changed you. In his case, the near-death experience had made him grateful for his crew, protective of them…
What had it done to her?
None of my fucking business. This woman was mortal, and she hated him.
Best to keep it that way.
She looked his way. “Thanks for bringing me up here.”
“I’ve never found a better place to think.”
She looked out at the water again. “Sorry about the screaming earlier.”
He shrugged and leaned on the railing beside her. “Used to have nightmares myself sometimes. Happens.”
She nodded and looked at him again. “You never asked me what it was about.”
“Nope.” He met her eyes. “Your dreams are your business.”
She chuckled. “That’s refreshing.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I did not want to work with you on this mission, but I think I might’ve been wrong about you.”
He raised a brow. “I’m not as big a bastard pirate as you thought?”
She snickered, knocking her shoulder against his. And he logged it. He couldn’t help but notice every simple touch. What was it with this woman? Lasses came and went. He’d lost count of how many.
Why was this one getting under his skin?
“Well, you did blow up my last undercover mission, and pirates have a history of hurting the people I’m sworn to protect, so…”
He straightened. “I don’t know if this is in your files at Department 13, but our crew have a code. We never took from anyone who couldn’t afford it, and we never hurt anyone who couldn’t defend themselves. Captain Flynn enforced the code without remorse for any bastard who broke it.”
Why was he justifying himself to her? He didn’t give a damn what she thought of him.
Did he?
She stared at him for a moment, studying him. Finally, she looked up at the moon. “If people found out your crew had a code that included mercy, wouldn’t it be harder to take ships? Wouldn’t you want to sail with the most fearsome captain in order to make ships surrender and build your stash of treasure?”
He arched a brow, eyeing her profile. “Why?” He chuffed, shaking his head as he surveyed the water below. “Contrary to your opinion of me, I’m not big on killin’ if I don’t have to. Taking a life, stealing a child’s parents—it haunts me. I’m no angel, but I’m not that kind of pirate.”
She cleared her throat and straightened. “Maybe while we’re up here, we could work on our cover story.”
“All right.” He pushed off the railing, but the crow’s nest only allowed for a couple feet between them. No room for keeping his distance. He offered her his hand in greeting and forced out his best Savannahian accent. “Hi, I’m Greg Smith. I married you five years ago, and now we’re looking to add a stolen mythical sword to our collection of rare artifacts and antiques.”
Sounded damn authentic to his own ears, and there was a trace of shock on her face before she buried it. Instead of paying him a compliment, she glanced down at his hand and smiled. Suddenly she took it, lacing her slender fingers with his calloused digits, and his breath caught. Her eyes lifted to meet his. “There’s more to it than that.” Her accent was spot-on, and the way her gaze locked on his as her thumb caressed the back of his hand almost made him believe she truly cared. “We were high school sweethearts. And now we’re trying to start a family.”