“Like you so graciously reminded me, my duty is to your father, and he commanded me to keep you safe.” He reaches out, catching my chin between his thumb and finger and lifting it so I can’t look away. My lips part as he leans in closer, our argument all but forgotten when his eyes flicker to my lips, then back up. His eyes are a deep blue in the dim light of the tunnel, and my stomach flips as I stare into them.
“You can hate me all you want, princess, but I don’t have to answer to you. You can’t tell me not to protect you.”
His fingers release me and he straightens, brushing past as he strides down the hallway.
“You don’t know where you’re going, so I suggest you keep up,” he yells over his shoulder.
Anger courses through me, along with something else entirely. Desire, burning and licking through my veins. I wanted Weston to kiss me, to close the distance and press his lips to mine, completely defying me and my order.
Jorn is right, it feels good to have someone care about you, but I don’t want them to only care out of duty and obligation. Out of responsibility. Weston made it clear that is the only way he cares, because of the oath he gave to my father. Whatever attraction is between us is only that. Attraction. It doesn’t override his responsibilities.
I misread the situation,again.
I hurry through the tunnel, only to find him waiting for me around a bend just ahead. Even though he seems angry, he doesn’t want me to get lost. I swallow the lump in my throat, and keep my gaze fixed on the path ahead of us, blindly following his movements and turns.
We walk in silence until we reach the portal that leads out onto the beach, letting us out among the large boulders and rock pillars that jut out of the cliff wall. So many perfect hiding spots for the Castaways sit in this space, and I can’t believe none of us had noticed them before.
Weston stops between two boulders and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a large square of fabric and holding it out toward me.
“What’s this for?” I whisper, feeling like anything louder than that will disturb our hiding place. The beach is completely empty and dark with the lack of moonlight, but I know the Castaways are hidden all around us.
“To cover your face. If you want to,” he adds on quickly. I peer up at him, but the shadows cast over his face make him hard to read.
Did I actually get through to him, despite his refusal to bow to my command? Is he giving me a choice instead of just being overbearingly protective?
“They all know who I am. It’s not like I need to hide.”
“They do, but we don’t know who is going to come through that portal. I don’t need someone attacking you again the moment they see you.”
I know he’s talking about Mara, and the last thing I want right now is for her to come after me in front of him. It would only prove him right, and make him even more unbearable.
“Fine,” I grumble. Giving him a little concession after he gave me one, won’t hurt. In all reality, I may be around Weston for the rest of my life if we can’t figure out how to get back home, and even if it isn’t forever, who knows how long it actually could be? I may be mad at him now, but I can’t stay that way forever. Neither can he.
I reach for the cloth, but before I can, his hands fall on my shoulders, spinning me around so my back is to him. Both arms reach over as he drapes the scarf across my chest, and my heart starts pounding in my ears. This feels so intimate, and after pressing my body into his chest back on the beach, I can’t help but feel the temptation to do it again.
His fingertips brush the back of my neck as he pushes my hair out of the way, and my breath hitches. I stare straight ahead, trying not to move, so he doesn’t touch me again and I don’t do something stupid. He ties a knot in the back, leaving the kerchief hanging over my neck, ready to pull up to my face the moment I need to.
“Thanks,” I mumble, and he strides away, settling down between two boulders giving him a clear view of the portal, without a word or glance back toward me. I look around quickly, finding Stassia and Sig tucked away in a corner, and sink down to join them.
Stassia quirks an eyebrow, making it clear she watched that entire interaction.
“Talking again?” she asks in a whisper.
“It’s nothing,” I murmur and adjust my body in the space, sinking down so I’m comfortable for however long this will take.
“Doesn’t look like it’s nothing,” she says. “Especially not for him.” She juts her head forward, and I follow her gaze toward where Weston perched, only to be met with teal eyes looking back at me. He breaks away first, looking back toward the beach and the portal.
“Nothing can happen, Stass. He’s made that very clear. Besides, a princess can’t be involved with her guard.”
Stassia doesn’t balk at my princess comment. She just brushes it aside with a shake of her head. “This is Dawnlin, Lennox. Nobody is anybody here. We’re all just trying to stay alive, and live the best life we can.”
“He doesn’t agree with that. He only cares about his oath.”
Sig is quiet on the other side, but I can tell she’s listening. Stassia says nothing for a while, and just when I think she’s dropped it, she whispers again.
“I’ve been around for a while, Sig even longer, and I’m sure she’ll agree. Captain hasn’t ever so much as glanced at any woman that’s stepped onto his ship. Until you. Something tells me that even though he’s saying one thing, maybe deep down he feels something else. Maybe he keeps saying it because he’s trying to convince himself of something that doesn’t feel right.”
Clamping my lips shut, I turn my focus back to the beach and let her words sink in. Why does it feel like everyone in the crew seems to see something more? First Sig, then Jorn, and now Stass. All of them have done or said things that make me believe Weston does care, and so does he.
