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She crossed her arms over her chest. “What were you doing on the floor outside my room?”
“That happens to bemyroom.”
“Not until I’m returned home.”
Morgan took a deep breath. Why was he arguing with her? And why over something so stupid? It wasn’t like him to even care about such matters.
“Where were you going?” he asked again, not wanting to investigate his feelings any further.
“I was going for food, if you must know. I happen to be hungry. Now tell me why you were outside my door.”
“A man has to sleep sometime, Miss James, and on a ship a man makes his bunk wherever he can find space.”
“Aren’t there guest quarters, or…”
“This is a warship, Miss James, not a passenger ship.”
“But what about the other sailors? Don’t they have beds?”
“They make pallets or string up hammocks wherever they can. And I’m not beast enough to oust poor Barney from his room. He needs it to keep his bird happy.”
She looked around at the men who surrounded her, performing numerous duties.
Morgan could see the confusion on her face. “It’s not the glamorous life you wrote about in your story,” Morgan said, softening his tone. “Life at sea is hard. And often deadly.”
“Then why do you do it?”
“Because we love it.”
She arched a brow. “A glutton for punishment, aren’t you?”
Morgan laughed low in his throat as he swept his gaze over her trim figure and remembered just how good her thigh had felt in his hand. Aye, he was definitely a glutton for punishment.
Too bad she didn’t know just how true her words were.
“I’ve been accused of worse.” He moved back from her. “Now if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the galley.”
Without another word, she followed him back below deck.
The galley was a large room with a huge cast iron stove. A bald, surly man stood making bread at a wooden table while he barked orders to a young boy of about fourteen who hustled around the room.
“I said to fetch more flour, boy! I’ll be needing it before the winter season is upon us.”
“Yes, sir,” the boy breathed, rushing over to a barrel and pulling out a cup of flour.
Morgan cleared his throat and the middle-aged man looked up from his task with a sour frown. It instantly changed when he recognized Morgan. “Need some bread to break the fast, Captain?”
Morgan turned to her. “What would you care for, Miss James?”
The cook’s ominous frown now turned her way. Deciding an omelet and bacon would probably strain the man’s already weak patience, she shrugged. “Bread and cheese will be fine,” she said.
“Court,” the cook snapped to the boy. “Get the captain’s woman what she wants.”
Stunned by his words, Serenity stuttered. “Um…I’m nothiswoman.”
“Well, you needn’t sound so offended,” Morgan said beneath his breath.
Bemused, Serenity caught the twinge of anger in his eyes. “So Iamyour woman?” she asked.
