โโNo.โ I shook my head and frantically scanned Priestโs rigid stance, even as I knew the compass wasnโt on him. โNo, no, noโโโ
โShhh.โ He held up his hands and took a cautious step forward. โBennett, listenโฆโ
โWhere is it?โ A roaring started in my ears, and my heart cracked in my chest. โTell me!โ
โIt took me two years to find you, and right now that compass is the only thing stopping you from putting more years between us. I canโt let you do that. Youโve given me no choice.โ
Fear and rage burst from my lungs in an earsplitting scream. โWhat have you done?โ
โIโm doing this forย us.โ
โYouโre a dead man!โ I hurled the brass impostor at his despicable head. โCalm down.โ He ducked, easily dodging it.
โSpineless dog!โ I threw a porcelain platter, and it shattered on the wall behind him. โHeartless fiend!โ
โBennettโฆโ He sidestepped another projectile plate, his reflexes like that of a serpent. Slippery. Venomous. Straight out of hell.
โTell me where it is!โ Blinding hysterics tunneled my vision, ravaging me from all corners and painting the room red. โRight now!โ
โCanโt do that, my love.โ
I grabbed a bottle of rum from the desk, preparing to fling it next. But as my fingers closed around the glass neck, I remembered my plan.
My breathing tightened with determination. My muscles hardened with focused fury. Where I had compassion for him before, now there was none. I needed him to hurt.
โYou know what that compass means to me.โ I lifted the rum, swilling it with a calm I didnโt feel. โYou wouldnโt have left it in Jamaica.โ
โNo.โ
โYou didnโt toss it into the sea.โ โNever.โ
Breaking my heart was one thing, but he wouldnโt destroy that gift from my father. He wouldnโt be so cruel. I had to believe that.
Everything inside me relaxed. The compass was on the ship. But where?
As my mind raced for answers, I straightened my corset, trying miserably to cover my breasts from his humiliating stare.
He knew this vessel from bow to stern. Every alcove and nook. Every shadow and hiding spot. No doubt heโd determined the best location for the compass the moment heโd swiped it in the tavern.
With sleight and quick-wittedness, he probably secreted it away on the upper deck when I wasnโt looking. Or slipped it into a wall on his way down here. Orโฆ I glanced around, deflating at the stockpiles of weapons, cocked hats, rolls of sea charts, maps, and random treasures that cluttered the cabin.
It could be anywhere.
Once I locked him in irons, I would launch an exhaustive search. I would rip up every plank. Empty every chest. Topple over every barrel. If it failed to turn up, I would resort to torture. The psychological kind.
I knew exactly how to break the iniquitous Feral Priest.
โSo your plan was to hold my compass hostage. Well done.โ I tossed back another swallow of rum, choking on my own bitterness. โWhat happens next?โ
โYouโre clouded by anger, far more than I am at the moment. Understandably so.โ He ambled to the bookcase, selected the smallest of my three hourglasses, and held it up. โThis one measures fifteen minutes?โ
โTen minutes.โ I squinted at him, burning to punch his perfectly composed face.
โGood enough.โ He carried it to the bed and sat on the edge, testing the flow of sand between the glass globes. โWe cannot have a fruitful
conversation until we work out this tension between us.โ โI will notโโ
โQuiet!โ The explosion of fury in his voice stopped my heart. Just as frightening was his ability to return to a placid tone. โSince you seem unwilling to abandon the discomfort beneath your skirt, Iโll remedy that particular reluctance by offering an agreement.โ
I tightened my hand around the rum bottleโthe weapon I would use to best him. โGo on.โ
โIโll give you pleasure, a worthwhile release, without the benefit of my own.โ His gaze softened. โI owe you that much.โ
A sting pricked my throat. Oh, how I loved and hated him. I focused on the latter. โIโll have no part of that indiscriminate member between your legsโโ
โIโll use only this finger.โ He held up a long, thick digit. โIf I fail to bring you over the edge before the sand runs out, Iโll give you the location of the compass and debark at the first opportunity. Youโll never see me again.โ
I didnโt trust him. Not for a minute. โIf you succeed?โ
โIf you come on my finger within the allotted time, Iโll have your forgiveness.โ
โReally, Priest.โ I made a scoffing sound. โNever in the history of faithless husbands does a woman offer forgiveness at the crook of his finger.โ
โVery well. If I succeed, Iโll have my position reinstated as the master gunner on this ship. Iโll resume my role as your husband andย earnย your forgiveness.โ
โChops is the master gunner.โ
โChops can report to me. Or I can feed his innards to the gulls. Iโm indifferent either way.โ
He set the sand clock on the mattress and folded his hands on his lap, regarding me with an expectant look. It wasnโt hopeful expectancy. Heย calculatedย on me agreeing to this.
We both knew I would. And we both knew he would win. Which was why I had no intention of playing by the rules.
I took another swill of rum and carried it with me to the bed. Stepping into theย Vย of his spread knees, I planted my boots against the insides of his and steeled my nerves.
โSo, my stunning, unmanageable, ever-vexing wife,โ he murmured, tiptoeing his gaze up my body to meet my eyes. โShall we get on with it, then?โ
I gave a deliberate pause, pretending indecision. โDo I have another option?โ
โHmm.โ He lifted my hand and kissed my fingers, his voice folding around me like nightshadeโbeautiful, exotic, deadly poisonous. โPerhaps Iโll bend you over my knee like a bad little girl and leave usย bothย aching for release.โ
โYou owe me more than that.โ
โQuite so.โ His insidious stare taunted me over the fingers he held captive, his breath dipping into the valleys between each knuckle, teasing sensitive skin.
A shudder raked my body, puckering my nipples and unleashing hell on my focus. I ached for his touch, and my senses thickened with that need, sharpening and dulling in waves as I sought to control my reaction to him.
I knew what I needed to do. Anger would guide me. Ruthlessness would protect me. But the woman Iโd once beenโthe wife, the lover, the sensual creature who craved affectionโdesperately wanted to postpone his pain.
And mine.
This was the last time I would be with my husband. I endeavored to savor it.
Hooking an arm around his broad shoulders, I held the bottle of rum against his back and straddled his lap. Then I pulled my fingers from his grip and allowed myself to touch him.
First, the soft brown hair that swept back from his forehead. Then the tender skin around silver eyes that watched me with unnerving patience. Then the blade-sharp cheekbones. The chiseled mouth that had caused me so much heartache. The wiry stubble that covered his jaw. A manโs jaw. Square. Rough. Warm skin over bones forged from iron. He was majestic. Beastly. Regal. Peerless. Unreasonably handsome.
No oneโnot man or womanโcould look at him without stealing another look, and another, until those glimpses carved themselves into memory and established the benchmark by which all beauty was measured.
โI hate that youโre so good-looking.โ I roamed my free hand down his bare chest, marveling at the stone wall of muscle. โYour beauty was our ultimate detriment, you realize.โ
His gaze flickered to mine, open and distant at once. โExplain that.โ
โWould your lover have given you a second glance, let alone a lengthy affair, if your face looked like uncured leather? If your ribs pressed against skin or your smile bore rotten teeth?โ
โI donโt know.โ His expression blanked. โHow did you meet her?โ
His eyes hardened, warning me not to mention her again. โWhat about you, Bennett? If I were ugly as a wart, would you have married me?โ
โYes.โ I traced the sculpted bow of his upper lip. โYour pretty face has its appeal. But it was the intelligence in your conversations and the intensity of your devotion that ensnared me. When I realized that devotion wasnโt real, your looks held no significance.โ
He didnโt need to know how many times tonight Iโd acknowledged the effect his physical perfection had on me. It didnโt matter. At the end of this, it would be the vivacious soul of the man that I would mourn the most.
His mouth flattened beneath my finger.
โDonโt look so offended.โ I patted his cheek. โI only wonder what might have become of us had you been an average-looking fellow. Would you have been so easily lured from me?โ
โI wasnโt easily lured away, and thoughย youย are painfully gorgeous to the eye, that wasnโt what enthralled me, either.โ
โIs that so?โ I asked dryly.
โThe first time I saw you, you were standing at the helm of this fifty- gun galleon, tearing into a man three times your size. He took his punishment with nothing but respect in his eyes.โ He smiled a reluctant smile. โIโve watched great men rule great ships, and they donโt hold a fraction of the esteem that you do. You, this tiny ferocious woman, commanding a crew of one-hundred-and-twenty unruly, quarrelsome, lusty- minded men, and none of them so much as touch you. They wouldnโt dare.โ
โOne of them dared.โ I leaned in, hovering a breath away.
โYes, well, Iโve spent a lifetime taking risks.โ He brushed his lips against mine. โBut none so satisfying as the one I took with you.โ
Then he took again, with his hand in my hair and his tongue in my mouth. That hot stolen kiss, from the man who broke my heart, did exactly what it meant to do.
The tension in my limbs loosened. The ice in my veins thawed, and the shreds of my reason disintegrated as I sank into his splendor. His addictive
taste, his confident touch, his throaty sounds, his salt-water scentโall of it would forever reside among my best and worst memories.
I couldโve spent an eternity feeding on his lush lips. The seconds in which we fell into effortless passion wouldโve required weeks with anyone else. Our bodies came together in a mutual grind. Hearts finding the same beat. Tongues sliding in sync. Breaths melding as one.
He broke the kiss.
I followed his glance to the side, watching as he flipped over the hourglass, initiated the trickle of sand, and slid a hand beneath the skirt of my shift.
With a single finger, he traced my thigh from knee to hip before sinking between my legs and tunneling directly into my soaked heat.
I ceased breathing, and my pulse ran away from me as erotic tingles swept through every inch of my body.
He slowly eased out and drew an unhurried circle around my entrance, once, twice, igniting spasms along my grasping, greedy muscles. Then he plunged that finger again, groaning when he felt how hot and tight and wet and needy I was. I might as well have been a virgin, given the way I responded to his intrusion. Itโd been so damn long since Iโd been touched.
This was dangerous. Insane. Unsound. And so very right.
I had years of regrets, but denying myself one last ride on his experienced hand would not be one of them.
And so it began. In and out, around and around, he fingered me with a skill of a libertine. I liquefied around every curling pull and moaned with every leaden thrust, sagging against the pillar of his torso as shivering bursts of pleasure wound me tighter, hotter.
I was slippery and unashamed, and he was the intoxicant, spinning me and drowning me with his mastery of my body. Relief was so close I could feel the shimmering, taunting edge of it.
At the centrum of the sensations was his mouthโhis hot, treacherous mouth moving against mine in a languorous slide of damp flesh and heated breaths. He tasted like the ocean, deep and turbulent, liberating and comforting, familiar and sacred. There was a time when heโd represented all those things.
Sinuous pressure coursed through me, gathering around the stroke of his finger. But a peek at the sandglass filled me with dread. Such an insignificant amount of grains had passed through.
โBy my estimate, thatโs one minute down.โ He crooked his finger inside me and dragged my lips back to his, panting hungrily. โNine more to go.โ
He didnโt need ten minutes to give me a release. He could do it in two.
But outlasting the clock wasnโt my aim.
With his breaths crashing against my mouth and the impossibly long, swollen length of him pressing against my inner thigh, it was time. He was mindless enough, his guard effectively compromised as he closed his eyes and drove his finger deep into the drenched folds of my flesh.
My throat constricted as I put my lips at his ear and whispered, โLet this be a lesson in betrayal.โ
โWhaโ?โ
I shoved his chest with all the strength in my arm and smashed the bottle of rum against the side of his head. Through a spray of liquor and glass, the world stood still as he stared at me in disbelief.
Then he slumped like a sack of grain. His back hit the mattress. His body went limp between my legs, and blood spurted from the jagged wound near his temple.
He was unconscious.
The rancid taste of grief flooded my mouth. My sinuses burned, and fire scorched the backs of my eyes. What kind of woman hurt the man she loved?
โIโm so sorry.โ I lay my cheek on his chest and released a choking cry of relief and agony.
I cried for the marriage Iโd bungled so miserably. For the man whose faithlessness had taught me a hard lesson in trust. And for the love I was letting go after so many years of holding on.
It was time to move past this. Time to find the compass, lock my demon in the bilge, and hold him captive until he was as finished with me as I was with him.
Wiping away tears, I stretched toward his face and kissed his slack lips.
It hurt to do so.
It hurt to climb to my feet and not kiss him again.
It hurt to turn away and straighten my undergarments. But I did it.
I put him behind me, pulled in a deep breath, and shouted for my quartermaster.