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—”
“What will you show me?” My voice rose through several octaves. “Love?”
“Yes.”
“Love doesn’t betray.” That familiar pain announced itself in the cracks of my voice. “Why did you do it?”
“Believe me…” He dropped his head back on his shoulders and breathed out through his nose. “It wasn’t on purpose.”
“Oh? It was an accident, then? How does that work? Did you fall out of my bed and accidentally land in someone else’s vagina?”
“You think I wanted this?” He leveled his gaze on mine. “I never wanted to hurt you. Hell, I didn’t even know I was capable of falling in love. God knows I never meant for it to happen twice and certainly not at the same damn time.”
I gnashed my teeth. “A person can’t be in love with two people.”
“Wish that were true. It’s caused me nothing but misery and loneliness.”
“Give me her name.”
His eyes drifted shut, a deliberate gesture of reluctance.
“She rejected you.” My chest hurt. I didn’t deserve this. “Why are you protecting her?”
“I protect what I love.” His gaze returned to mine, unflinching in its cruel honesty. “Simple as that.”
“I see.” Everything inside me collapsed and burned as I moved toward the ladder. “Last chance to surrender the compass.”
“Can’t do that, Bennett.”
With a boot on the bottom rung, I stared up at the hatch, composing my thoughts.
“If I overlooked your philandering… If I could be the sort of woman who shared her husband with his paramours, all our disputes would go away. You would return my compass. I would welcome you back into my bed. You would have your lovers on the side. And I would have mine.”
I paused, letting him absorb that last part before glancing back at him.
Fists clenched at his sides, bare feet spread in a warrior stance, mouth a hard slash, complexion red with ire—he glared in shock.
Oh, yes. He’d heard every word.
“Don’t look at me like that, darling.” I cocked my head. “You set the guidelines for our marriage. I’m simply following your lead.”
“No. Hell no. By the Virgin Mother’s blood, I’m warning you.” His breathing accelerated, and his voice strained with barely controlled violence as a long menacing finger thrust in my direction. “I will not share you with another.”
“Know this, Priest Farrell. If you don’t return my compass, sharing is exactly what you’ll do.”