Free Oceanswept by Lara Hays Page A

for bruisin’ where he kicked you, but I don’t think anything is broken. Tessa, I’m going to carry you up to my cabin. You’ll be safe there.” With a hot fury in his voice, he added, “I promise no one will hurt you again.”
    “Nicholas?” I asked again.
    “Yes?”
    “Why are you here?”
    “To take care of you, of course,” he said like it was blatantly obvious.
    “But you put me here.”
    He quickly sucked in his breath.
    “Tessa,” murmured Nicholas, “you do know that I never meant you any pain, don’t you?”
    His eyes shone with concern.
    I struggled to slow my racing thoughts, to make sense of what had happened, of Nicholas’s abandonment, and his tender actions now. Finally, I whispered, “But everything you’ve done has caused me pain.”
    Nicholas scooped me into his arms, wrapping me in a soft embrace. I felt a sob ripple through his chest. I cried with him.

CHAPTER TWELVE
     
     
    N icholas carried me to his cabin and tenderly laid me on the wooden bed. He piled several blankets on me, trying to stop the quivering that tore through me. I couldn’t stop shaking. I couldn’t stop crying.
    When Skidmore came to offer help, Nicholas described my injuries then sent him for supplies. He returned quickly with canvas rags and a jug of rum identical to the one Wrack had brought to the brig.
    I trembled at the sight of it.
    “Don’t be frightened,” Nicholas reassured. “It’s just for medicine.”
    After pouring a splash of rum in a cup, he coaxed me to drink. “Take small sips. You’ll feel better and the pain will ease.”
    My shaky hands could barely hold the cup. Nicholas helped me guide it to my lips, but the smell brought back horrible images from the attack and I could not drink it. I shook my head feebly. “I can’t.”
    Kneeling beside the bed, Nicholas poured the rum on a canvas rag, then delicately dabbed at my wounds. The sting of alcohol sent stabbing pain through me. I cried out.
    “It hurts too much,” I whimpered.
    “It stops infection. I’m so sorry. Just a little more.”
    I clenched my teeth as he ran the cloth over my cuts.
    “There. Finished.”
    He peered at me, a grave look clouding his features. For the first time, I noticed the color of his eyes. During our dimly-lit conversations in the galley, I had always assumed they were brown, because the rest of his coloring was so tawny. But they were a captivating shade of grey, their lightness emphasized by his tan skin, thick lashes, and black eyebrows.
    “Your eyes are grey,” I found myself saying, reaching as if to touch his cheek, but stopping before my fingers found him.
    He pulled my hand against his face and smiled kindly, a look of relief washing over him. “Well, at least you can see straight.”
    My stomach fluttered and I smiled at the building infatuation. A painful breath was all it took to remind me that this was not a man I should fall for—he was the one who caused all my pain.
    I pulled my hand back and looked away.
    Nicholas cleared his throat uncomfortably then bandaged my cuts. An occasional sting caused me to cringe.
    “Tell me everything that happened,” Nicholas prompted stoically.
    Gravely, I relayed how Wrack let himself into the brig and attacked me. I told the events plainly and without embellishment, crushing any emotion I felt. I hardly believed the words I uttered.
    Nicholas did not look at me the entire time I recounted the story. He was so quiet I wondered if he had stopped listening. The heavy stillness continued after I finished.
    I could not stand the weight of the quiet. I had to break the silence. “How did you know?”
    Nicholas was silent for a moment more, still refusing to meet my eyes. “My keys went missing about thirty minutes prior. I searched all over for them, and then I went to the men to see if any of them had seen them. I discovered that Wrack was missin’ too—he’d left his watch early. When I heard you scream, I realized where he must be. I called for