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For taking the coward’s way out.
One last breath to fortify himself against her hatred and he opened the door.
Torrie had moved back to the bed, sitting atop and turned to the side, staring out the row of windows at the sea. She’d twisted her dark hair into a long braid that hung in front of her left shoulder. A shame, for it was quite glorious hanging loose and wild about her shoulders as it had been for the last day.
At his entrance, she spun, her hands going wide on the bed, bracing herself. Against what, he wasn’t sure.
“So I’m to be a captive in here? Why? And for how long?” For all the accusation in her words, her voice had gone soft, deflated. Probably because she’d realized she couldn’t just swim back to shore.
Roe kicked the door closed with his bare foot. “You’re not a captive, Torrie. The furthest thing from it.”
“What am I doing here, then?”
His eyebrow lifted. “You are willing to attempt an actual conversation with me?”
Her lips pulled inward for a breath and then she nodded.
“You don’t remember how you came aboard?” He leaned with the sway of the ship and then went to the desk, setting the needle, thread, and strips of linen down but holding onto the brandy. “You were talking when I brought you down below deck and your eyes were open for a few seconds.”
“I was awake? What did I say?”
He shrugged. “Nonsensical stuff.”
“So you did bring me on board this ship—and not only that—you brought me onto the ship and set sail. Why?”
He turned fully to her. “You don’t recall what I extracted you from? The band of men—hyenas—about you?”
It took her several full seconds until recognition flashed across her golden green eyes. “Oh. That.” Her shoulders drooped. “That was you that charged into that circle?”
“Yes. And some injuries had to happen in order for me to grab you.”
Her hands left the bed and pulled inward, wrapping around her stomach. “Yes. Well, thank you for that. I was in a spot of trouble there.”
“A spot?”
“A dollop.” She shrugged. “But you could have deposited me into a carriage and had me delivered far away from the docks.”
He shook his head. “Not an option. That crowd was out for blood—my blood, since I was the one taking their sport away.”
“But—”
“But nothing. There were twenty-plus men that were bent on a turn with you, Torrie. And my ship was the only way out. Should I have left you there?”
Her lips pursed. She shook her head.
“So, no—no, you’re not a captive. The next port we are in we can send you safely home. Until then, you’re free to wander about the ship as you like, as long as you don’t get in the way of the men. But you’ll be sleeping in here.”
Her look jerked to him. “What—why? No.”
“Yes. As much as the men are under control, they’re men. And sailors. And you’re a woman. You’re to sleep in here.”
“But I’m sure a hammock would do me fine. You have hammocks on a ship, correct? I don’t see why I cannot—”
He leaned down, his face in front of hers, his voice brutal. “I’ll not argue this order with you. If you’re not in this room at dusk, I am finding you and dragging you in here. In front of all the men. You do it more than once and youwillfind yourself captive in this room.” His dark grey eyes skewered her through, reinforcing his order.
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She nodded.
Better than he could hope for.
