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She sneered viciously at me, then crouched beside the table, keeping her eyes locked on mine. There was a quick rustle of fabric and when she stood, she drove a small, gleaming blade into the tabletop with surprising force. I recognized it immediately as mine, from my very own nightstand.
“I could have killed you half a dozen times already.”
She certainly wasn’t short on surprises. “Remind me to have a chat with my crew about doing a better job of keeping weapons away from our captives. It appears they have become lax in their duties.”
“Give me my dagger. Then I’ll sit here and eat a meal with you like a good girl. But don’t get any ideas.” Her gaze cut to my bed.
My stomach tightened and adrenaline raced through my veins, but I shut the feeling down before it could spread. “Even the suggestion of such behavior is an insult, Miss Darling.”
A muscle in her jaw twitched and she drove her fist down on the table. “Quit calling me that! My name is Never.”
“Very well, I will call you whatever you wish, so long as you agree to do me the favor of not insulting my integrity by suggesting, or implying, or even thinking, that I would attempt anything of a sexual nature with you. I may be a pirate, but even I have standards.”
Never flinched away from the last, and I wanted to claw the words back the instant they were out of my mouth.
“No problem. Thank you for the clarification.” She yanked the blade free of the wood. “And I’m keeping this. Try to take it from me and you havemyword I’ll drive in into your heart before the night is over.” She slammed it down on the table, then dragged her chair back, sat down, and started shoveling food in her mouth in the least ladylike way imaginable.
9
HOOK
I just stood there, staring like a fool. I’d gotten under her skin with my comment, but I truly hadn’t meant it the way she’d heard it. Was it worth trying to explain that to her? To explain that I’d meant I would never touch anunwillingwoman in that way? And she was obviously unwilling.
When I didn’t move, she pointed the tines of her fork at me and swallowed. “What?”
No, definitely not the right time to try to explain our misunderstanding. “I’ll be right back,” I said quietly. “Please continue.”
She didn’t, of course. Instead, she tracked my every movement as I crossed the room, opened my bureau, and retrieved the dagger she so desperately wanted.
I set it on the table beside her. “Consider this a show of faith and an offering of peace.” Then I took my seat across from her and dug into my own dinner.
A solid minute ticked by before she continued her meal, but she didn’t take her prize from the table. She left it in plain view.
Perhaps that’s her way of acknowledging my gesture?
“You still owe me a name,” she said just before taking an enormous bite of food. Her eyes fluttered closed for just a second.
“I told you Cook was good.”
She studied me as she chewed slowly and swallowed. She reached for her glass and sipped at the water. “Cook is good, I’ll agree with you on that, but it won’t distract me from the name issue. Remember, quid pro quo.”
“I already told you; I have no true surname.” I cast her a wary glance. “Though I find it odd that you’re circling back to this when you already used that insulting slur I was cursed with forever ago.”
She cocked one manicured eyebrow and waved her fork in a small circle. “I get that this is someotherplace, different from my world. I’m willing to get on board with that after seeing that creature in the lake. But that doesn’t make me psychic.”
I leaned back in my chair, resting my forearms on the curved wooden arms. It was almost amusing how stubborn the woman was being, refusing to put the pieces together.
“Hook, Miss Darling. My name, in this realm, is Atlas Jameson Hook.”
Her blue eyes narrowed, silently assessing me, until a bitter laugh huffed past her lips. She pointed her fork at me again. “You’re trying to be clever? Okay, ha ha. Now I want the truth.”
“I am not trying to be clever.”
“That’s a relief, because if you are, you kind of suck at it.” Her fork scraped across the plate as she cut what remained of her food into smaller pieces, but instead of bringing any of it to her lips, she just stared at it. “Look, you don’t grow up with a name like mine, with a family like mine, without being subject to more than your fair share of ridicule. I can’t make you tell me, but don’t mock me for something I have no control over.”
“Miss, I assure you, I am not mocking you.”
Her body stiffened and her grip on the fork tightened. I’d hit a nerve, clearly, but I wasn’t sure how to show her the truth. Then her whole rant at the beach came back to me.
