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She didn’t move, even when he slid beside her, scenting the air with a salty-tinged masculinity. He tugged at the covers and pulled them around himself.
‘Pretend to be asleep,’ he muttered. ‘Just don’t step on me when you get up. I’ve been awake two nights straight, part of a third—and I must rest. Drowning is starting to sound pleasant.’
She could tell he rolled so his back was to her. She couldn’t move. Her stomach was hanging on to her insides and as long as she kept her back straight she could believe she had stayed alive. The waves had lessened in their violence. Even the thunder had moved on.
‘Once we get to London, I’ll see you have passage back to Melos.’ His voice broke the silence.
‘I can take care of myself.’ She spoke before she intended, jerking her face in his direction. She bit the inside of her lip, reminding herself to be motionless.
She couldn’t see his eyes, but she watched him turn in her direction. He examined her, his face a mask.
His words sounded unwilling. ‘Your stone won’t be enough in England to protect you.’
She spoke again, controlling the intensity of her words. She’d risked everything on this ship and this stranger. But once she reached London, she could find her father there. He could help her raise funds and search for more artefacts. She was certain she’d seen more carvings at the place she’d found the woman. But the woman was the prize. ‘We’re too far at sea. You can’t turn the ship around and return me.’
He touched the bare skin of her arm, soothing her. ‘Once we get to England,’ he repeated, ‘I’ll stay a few days in London. I have to meet people to discuss the details of the voyage. And if you wish to return home, I’ll make sure my brother finds a way to get you back to the island.’
She gave a quick toss of her head. ‘I will find my way. The arm will help me.’
‘This Stephanos. Surely you can find someone you prefer better than him?’
She shrugged.
‘The men you see at the docks will have one thing on their mind when they approach you—and they won’t pay generously. They’ll haggle over a pence and be angry with you for any coin they give you. And then they’ll take your body and they won’t be kind. They’ll feel they’ve paid you so they don’t have to be gentle and they’ll want every ounce of your skin for their coin.’ He paused. ‘You can’t find a more troublesome lot of humanity. I’m sure they’re even worse than this Stephanos you think so highly of.’
‘It’s not your concern. I won’t sell myself because I have the arm. The museum will want the rest of her.’ She turned her face from him and bundled herself up, raising her knees and resting her arms around them. She dipped her chin. ‘Go to sleep.’
He sat up and clasped her shoulder. She was amazed at the warmth a single touch could send and pleased deep within herself that he wanted to protect her from selling her body, but angry he would send her back to the island. She could not go back without funds.
His words were soft—sleepy. ‘If I’d known you were an innocent, I’d never have let you set foot on the Ascalon.’
‘If I’d know you were such a tender heart, I’d have thrown myself into your brother’s arms.’ She considered the words she’d just spoken, and realised the untruth of them. When she looked at Warrington, she could see behind his eyes. The anger she saw wasn’t directed at her, but at himself. And sometimes she saw pain, moving quicker than the flashes of light in the night, showing through the struggle she saw within him.
‘You’ve no sense at all if you prefer my brother.’ He rested back into the covers.
‘I’ll find my own way in England.’
He tugged her down beside him and she kept her body stiff. Being held by him teased her of a life she’d never have, unless she made enough from the sale of artefacts to have a dowry not just for her sisters, but also one for herself. A husband of any value could cost a considerable amount.
The warmth of his breath touched her when he spoke, his words little more than a haze of sleepy murmuring. ‘I won’t waste a worry on you, then. Just be still and quiet for a moment so I can drift off.’
She didn’t move, knowing he should fall asleep soon. But even if he slept, she couldn’t move from him. His arm around her trapped her with the strength of iron.
‘I can’t let you be like her.’ His voice confirmed tiredness when she heard his slurred words. ‘Cassandra. My lovely wife. Not a man on Ascalon who wouldn’t have given all they owned for her. Even our captain. And I was the lucky one.’
