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“He asks for you, Captain,” she would say before we left to capture Vordan, but I was never ready to see him.
When I was locked in that cage, Vordan threatened Riden in an attempt to control me.
And it worked.
Riden had been my interrogator while I was a prisoner on theNight Farer. He was a means to an end. A distraction from the tedium of searching a ship from top to bottom—albeit a very attractive distraction who also happens to be a good kisser. It was all fun. Just play.
At least I thought so. Vordan’s words to Riden from the island still haunt me.There is at least one thing she cares about more than her own justice. You.
The thought of talking to Riden, even if it means I can lord his prisoner status over him, is unsettling.
Because he knows I let another man control me for the sakeof him. He knows that I care about him. ButI’mnot ready to know I care about him. So how could I face him?
But now, I have no choice. We need this room for Vordan. Riden is going to join Kearan and Enwen on the deck. I can’t avoid him any longer.
The door swings open much too quickly, and I find Riden in the corner, stretching out his bad leg. His hair has grown some, its brown lengths reaching just past his shoulders. A couple days’ worth of stubble clings to his chin, since he’s only permitted to shave when he bathes. He’s not any less fit than I remember, so he’s been making good use of his time stuck in here.
The changes only make him look more roguish. Dangerous. Almost irresistibly handsome.
He’ll need to shave first thing when he leaves the room. Otherwise the girls won’t be able to focus on their work.
He looks up as I close the door behind me, but he doesn’t say anything, merely surveys me from head to toe, not even caring that he’s staring at me far longer than is necessary.
A spark of heat flickers low in my belly. I try to expel it by coughing.
He smiles. “You took your time coming to see me, Alosa.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Busy catching up with your intended?”
I had a short list of all the things I was going to say to him, about why we’re relocating him, or even keeping him on the ship in the first place. But it all flees my mind at his words.
“My intended?” I ask.
“That blond fellow with the curly tresses. Looks a bit like a girl.”
At my confused look, he adds, “The one who helped overpower the strength of theNight Farerwith your father.”
“Oh, you mean Tylon? He looks nothing like a girl.” Though I’d pay a fortune to have Riden say otherwise in front of him.
“So he is your intended, then?” He asks it casually enough. A smile still rests on his lips, but one mental switch and I can see he’s swirling with a dark green. Jealousy in its deepest, rawest form.
He glares at me. “Don’t do that to me. Turn it off.”
I back up, startled by his cold look and outburst, before I compose myself. “I forgot you notice when I’m using it.”
“That hardly matters.” The smile comes back. “I thought you hated using your abilities. Aren’t they supposed to make you feel sick to your stomach? You must care a lot about what I think.”
I don’t like where he’s turning the conversation, so I divert it back. “Tylon is not my intended. We’repirates.” Marriage isn’t really something we do.
“What would you call him, then? Your lover?”
I snort. Tylon wishes, but I would never let the slimy eel touch me.
Riden doesn’t need to know that, though. I’m beyond amused by his accusation. I’d much rather see how this plays out than deny it.
“Sure,” I lie, “lover works.”
