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Perfect for pulling.
“Ow!”
He gets a door open. I’m too focused on him to realize where we are, but a moment later he throws me onto a bed. Then he grabs my wrist in a death grip, forcing me to release my hold on his hair.
I don’t know why, but it’sverydifficult to play the beaten prisoner. I can’t stand giving up too easily, no matter how many times I remind myself to make my stay on this ship look unintentional.
Which is why I don’t lie passively on the bed. Riden stands over me, his hand still holding my wrist captive. My knee connects with his stomach, which causes him to hunch down farther. I grab his other wrist with my own and pull him over the top of me before shoving him down onto the bed. I roll off and stand so I have the higher ground.
But he shoots up a moment later. I don’t expect him to recover so quickly, so he’s able to grab my waist and pin me to the bed. The last position I would ever want to be in.
“You’re stronger than you should be,” he says.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Just that you’re not a large woman, yet you were able to lift me off the ground.”
And those words are the only reason why I don’t shove his sorry arse off me. I have to remember to hold back. But it’s sodamnhard! When this is over, I’m going to kill him out of spite.
“I have my father’s rigorous heavy lifting training to thank for that.”
“No doubt.”
“Get off me.”
He looks down at me, trailing his gaze from my eyes to my mouth. So very slowly. “Are you sure you want that?”
“I’m quite sure,” I say, but the words don’t come out as forcefully as I intend them to.
He leans down farther, placing his nose next to mine. “How about now?” he whispers.
He’s too cocky for his own good, but I admit he’s pretty. And he makes my blood boil, but mostly out of anger. He’s a decent sort of fellow inside. But he chooses not to be on the outside. What does that make him?
I’m about to tell him to shove off, but then I feel his lips at my cheek. He’s not kissing me exactly, just touching my cheek with his lips. They drift downward to my jawline.
I have to make a serious effort to keep my breathing calm. Even. Not at all excited. Now is not the time to get all tingly. I have a job to do.
But his lips. I can picture them perfectly when I close my eyes. They’re a dark pink. Full and unmarred. And right now they’re being impossibly soft for a pirate.
When he does finally kiss me, it’s right below my ear in that sensitive spot.
Then he moves lower, trailing his lips down my neck at the side, then back up in the middle. He kisses the corner of my chin and then hovers expectantly over my mouth.
He wants me to kiss him, for me to be the one to actually lean forward and do something.
Of course he does. Men like Riden live off the thrill of victory.
Unfortunately for him, I do, too.
He’s loosened his hold, so it’s effortless for me to flip him over and hover above him. His hands grip my upper arms tightly. He’s worried I mean to strike him or choke him in some way. I probably should.
Instead I move my lips to his ear. My teeth graze his ear lobe, and his hands tighten in a different way. They move to my back, pressing there and trying to get me closer.
When I move to his neck, his hands reach for my hair, gliding through the strands.
“You are so beautiful,” he says. “Like a goddess born out of the sea.”
That is what finally snaps me out of it, his obviously exaggerated exclamation. He wants answers from me. He’ll say and do anything to get them. I’m just some pretty face to him. And that is all he is to me. I don’t have time for meaningless fun. I have a part to play. This will only make my job more difficult. Besides, how can I forget how I found Riden when I peered through the window of the tavern? He told me himself that he’s spent months at sea, and I interrupted his one night on land. Now he expects me to make up for it.
