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“He was only removing a drop of juice; there’s no need to be so possessive, Jacob.” The words were out before I had time to stop them, and I instantly wanted to take them back.

Jacob’s gaze narrowed on me. “I believe I told you to be silent, angel. Do you need a reminder of what happens when you’re disobedient?”

My breath hitched at an imaginary pain stinging my ass cheeks from the last spanking I’d received. Not wanting to experience that again, I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from spewing anything else.

Satisfied that I wasn’t going to talk back, Jacob’s features relaxed. “Why were you talking to him?”

Not quite able to hold his eye, I stared down at the floor like I was a naughty schoolgirl. “He saw my drawing. He was telling me about the monastery I was drawing.”

When I was met with silence, I dared a peek at Jacob. He glared at me, quietly seething. “So then, why did he touch you?”

“I told you. I had some juice on my lip; all he was doing was wiping it off.”

A deep rumble vibrated from his chest, and the tremor that had been in my fingers the whole time traveled up my arms. Abruptly, Jacob reached out and snatched my chin between his thumb and finger.

“I want to make this clear to you, Charlotte. Unless it is a life or death matter, I will never allow another man to put their hands on you. I don’t give a fuck if it is just to wipe a mark off your face; I am your husband; it is my responsibility to take care of all of your needs.”

He paused as my mouth opened with the instinct to tell him how silly he was being, but I clamped it shut, fearing that I was seconds away from an ass tanning.

“While we are on the subject,” he continued, releasing my chin. “You’re not to speak to any other man unless I am present.”

“You can’t be serious?” I blurted, not meaning to.

“I’m deadly serious, Charlotte. By all means, ignore me, but I assure you, if I catch you speaking to a man, they will meet the same fate as the deckhand.”

The lump of dread sitting in my stomach melted into lava and began flowing through my veins as I stared at Jacob in horror. “His…fate?”

The loud splash I heard minutes ago echoed in my ears, and my gaze darted to the blood on Jacob’s shirt. Bile churned in my stomach, crawling up my throat and burning my windpipe. I closed my eyes, my brain refusing to click the pieces together because it knew what it would show.

“Yes, angel. His fate,” Jacob replied coldly.

I forced the words out of my mouth, simultaneously needing to know the answer while not wanting to know. “Did you… Did you kill him?”

Amusement danced over his face as a smirk twitched on his lips. “Do you think I’m capable of murder, angel?”

“I…” I trailed off, suddenly unsure.

Did I think he was capable of murder? The blood on his shirt pointed to him having hurt Rocco, and the more I replayed the dragging noise, followed by the way that splash had reverberated, the more I believed that something heavy had been thrown overboard.

Jacob was possessive enough over me that he could be irrational if someone touched me, but murder?

That was a huge accusation.

No. My mind was putting two and two together and coming up with five. I was simply overreacting because of the situation.

“No, I don’t believe you are capable of murder,” I replied, not entirely convinced of my answer. “But can you at least tell me if Rocco is okay? Did you hurt him?

Jacob snorted before schooling his features. “His welfare is none of your concern.” I wanted to argue, to beg him to tell me, but where would it get me? “Enough about the deckhand.” Jacob snapped. “Let me ask you something, angel. And don’t lie to me unless you want to make this worse for yourself.” My teeth clenched so hard that within a second, my jaw ached. Still, I remained silent, awaiting his question. “Did you know I would be upset if you were caught talking to him?”

I swallowed the lie that wanted to roll off my tongue. “Yes.”

Hurt flashed in Jacob’s eyes. “I thought so.”

An invisible knife plunged into my heart. I hated hurting him, and I knew talking to Rocco would anger Jacob, yet I chose to continue with the conversation instead of carrying on with my drawing. If I had done that, Rocco wouldn’t be hurt, and Jacob wouldn’t be mad at me.

This was all my fault.

“Why?” Jacob said, pulling me out of my pity party. “Why did you want to talk to him?”