“An incident,” I whispered.
He kissed the scarred spot before stroking it with his thumb. Each stroke sent a shot of pleasure through my body. Too much pleasure. I didn’t expect that.
He released my hand. “I apologise. I don’t claim to be a gentleman, but my behaviour is inexcusable.”
“I beg to differ.” I couldn’t lie. I enjoyed his touch.
His lips parted in surprise. “Are you sure?”
“Very.” I caressed his fingers, listening to his breathing speed up.
He swallowed hard. “This shouldn’t… I think I need to go.”
I didn’t have time to add anything else before he scraped his chair back and rose. With long strides, he crossed the dining hall and disappeared. My skin prickled where he’d kissed me. I didn’t know what was more mysterious—the attacks or Rennie.
THE MOST EXCITING thing that happened in the next two days was seeing the Rock of Gibraltar as theSS Florentiaofficially entered the Mediterranean Sea.
The rocky white peak rose from the sea like a giant fang, a stark contrast to the turquoise waves. Rennie had been more taciturn than usual since our brief kiss, leaving me confused. I’d told him I enjoyed his touch. Why then was he so cold?
Even now that we were both on the main deck, admiring the view, he remained silent, hands in his pockets, glowering. Every time I caught a glimpse of his lips, the spot on my wrist he’d kissed tickled. But he hadn’t talked much in the past two days and had touched me even less. Which was a pity. Not that I craved his touch. No, sir. All I had to do was ignore the sudden lurch of my heart when he was close to me, the traitorous quiver of my knees when our gazes met, or the heat flooding my cheeks when he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. Cup of tea, really.
For example, he moved closer and his elbow brushed mine. A sudden shot of excitement jolted through me and made me tingle in all the wrong places. But I controlled it. I wasn’t a woman prone to swooning over a gentleman. Sandro had made me swoon a little. But to be honest, Sandro’s touch hadn’t been so raw and exciting. Pleasant, yes. Charming, of course. But not soul-wrenching like Rennie’s. I cleared my throat and let the wind cool my warm cheeks. Maybe I was craving his touch.
“No news on the thugs roaming the ship?” I asked when the ship left Gibraltar behind.
“Nothing. Detective Norton searched every cabin but couldn’t find a man who matched the description I gave him or who matched Mrs Francis’s attacker.” He shook his head. “How hard can it be to find a young, bald man with a missing finger?”
“What?” I spun towards him, a hand on my straw hat. What bald man?
“Mr Steele?” The detective in question approached us. He flashed a nervous smile and bowed at me before focusing on Rennie. “Would you mind coming with me? I’d like your opinion on a... delicate matter.” He threw a glance at me. “Madam.”
“Of course.” Rennie turned towards me and paused. “Stay here. I’ll be back soon.”
For heaven’s sake, where would I go? I didn’t like his domineering tone, but I nodded, nevertheless. He glanced at me again before disappearing below deck. I shook my head. What could happen to me on the deck filled with people? Every passageway on the ship was full of passengers and members of the crew.
The beauty of the sea was capturing my attention again when a whiff of expensive male cologne reached me.
“Monia.” Edward stood next to me, handsome and elegant as usual in all his golden glory. I almost chuckled, thinking of the nurse’s description of him.
“Edward!” I couldn’t help the note of reproach in my voice. “I’ve been searching for you. What happened in the castle?”
He removed his tall hat, and the breeze shuffled his blond hair. “I apologise on Sandro’s behalf. He saw your... friend and decided it was better not to be seen by him.”
I pressed my lips together. “But why?”
He exhaled. “Your parents don’t want you to meet Sandro.”
Well, thank you. “So I gathered.”
“Your friend is here to keep you away from him, I guess.”
“Why?” I kept repeating myself, but no one was giving me any answers, and my questions were always the same.
He tossed a glance over his shoulder. “Sandro wants to talk to you about that. He’ll be in Tunis tomorrow. Please, do what you can to be alone.” With an elegant bow, he went to turn, but I took his arm. A rather bold gesture, but I was going mad, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to follow his instructions without some explanation. His eyes widened, but he didn’t withdraw his arm.
“I searched for you,” I said. “They said there isn’t any Mr Edward Marston on board.”
“Marston? Who’s Marston?” he said, brow furrowing. “It’s Morrison, my dear. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a quite urgent matter to attend to.” He slid out of my grip with a quick bow.
