She already owned his soul.
“Come here, Grace.” He held out a hand to her and she hurried over to take it. “Stay behind me, lass.” He didn’t let out an easy breath until he felt her palm in his and that magical energy of hers playing over his skin.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he couldn’t let the woman out of his sight for a second.
“I am really, really glad to see you.” She whispered fiercely, gripping his fingers tight. She bent down to grab a soiled shawl with her free hand. “Likereallyglad. You and my Aunt Serenity were totally right about the witch burnings, even though youshouldn’thave been right.” She was talking too fast, riding high on emotions. “Do you think that you were remembering things that hadn’t happened yet? Or just --like-- getting a vibe of it? Do you think that’s possible?”
Jamie understood approximately three words in that rush of questions. “With you around, I think anything is possible.” He said honestly.
Grace smiled. She leaned against him like she needed comfort and, for some reason known only to Grace and the Almighty, she’d chosen Jamie Riordan to give it to her. His eyes closed briefly, his chin resting on the top of her head. The woman was a gift, in every possible way.
“This is the second time today you saved my life.” She whispered against his shoulder. “Thank you.”
Jamie was fairly certain he’d remember rescuing her at another point that afternoon. “I take it the other rescue was performed by the illustrious future-me?” He guessed quietly,holding her tight with his free arm.
She nodded and pulled back to meet his eyes. “My ex-boyfriend…” She paused, as if trying to find a word he would understand. “Ex-beau? Ex-guy-who-courted-me? Anyway he attacked me and you helped me get away.”
Jamie glanced at her sharply, taking in the darkening bruise on her jaw. “Did I kill him?”
“No!”
“Why the hell not?” He truly needed to kill more people when the opportunity presented itself. This business of trying to save the lives of assholes was a bloody nuisance.
“We’ll talk about it later, alright? Just give me the gun.” Recovering from her distress, she reached for the pistol and he gave it to her. “No offence, but we both know you’re not going to shoot Clara. Your gentlemanly impulses are going to get in the way of this plan.” She was the first person to ever see through his façade, because she was the only one who’d ever known him. “Don’t worry.I’mnot going to have that issue.”
“You plan to murder the girl?” Somehow he doubted it. But maybe he should warn her the gun was empty, just in case.
“Not exactly.” Grace turned with the pistol in her hand, aiming it right at Ned. “I might shoothim, though. I’m still half-convinced he’s a murderer and I’d like to solve this whole thing quickly, so we can be on our way to Jamaica.”
The remainder of the crowd took off running, even more scared of an armed witch then an armed pirate. All except Eugenia who just rolled her eyes. She’d always been the brains of the Wentworth family.
“The only murderer here is Riordan!” Ned snapped. “He’s the one who killed Lucinda, not me!”
Jamie ignored that and arched a brow at Grace. “We’re going to Jamaica? Why are we going to Jamaica?”
“I’m planning a honeymoon cruise.”
His lips curved at that happy news. “You’re staying this time, then?”
“Yep.” She shot him a quick glance. “I’ve signed on with you for good, Captain.”
Jamie couldn’t have been more thrilled to hear that. “Well, I’m sure I can findsomethingto do with you aboard ship.” He assured her lasciviously.
Grace arched a brow at him. “And in the meantime,” she glanced back at Ned, who was silently fuming, “I’m going to need some fingerprints from both of you.” She yanked the mermaid pendant from her neck and held it out to him. “Press your thumb onto this, please.”
Ned and Clara looked at her like she was deranged.
Even Jamie squinted slightly at the odd request. “What is this about now?” He whispered.
“It’s about me being amazingly good at my job.”
***
“We could just go to Jamaicanow.” Jamie offered. “Whatever it is you’re doing with that pendant, I can’t imagine it’s as important as having rollicking sex on our ship.”
“Can you focus, please?”
Grace didn’t have her forensics kit in 1789, but she did have her family’s collection of potions, powders, and unidentified goo. The Crystal Ball had fully stocked shelves and, after some experimentation, she found that ground up mothswort worked just fine as fingerprint powder. Loyal told her to use as much as she wanted, just so she didn’t make too much noise or bother him.
