understands.”
“In battle, the most dangerous place for him is on deck. If he can’t get below, he’s been taught to climb the rigging. Others watch over him. It’s more than he had in Port Royal.”
Alice sat next to Bump and stroked his back. “The poor babe.”
“Don’t do that.” His words earned him another fiery glare. “Coddling won’t help him. This is his life now. He needs to be tough.”
Alice stood and crossed her arms over her chest and stood in the sassy way she had with one knee bent and one foot crossed over the other. She let out a long breath. “I’m sorry.”
He hadn’t expected an apology.
“Don’t look so surprised. I’m not so stubborn I can’t admit when I’ve been wrong. I acted on impulse.”
“And put both of you in greater danger.” He laid his pistols on his desk to be cleaned and reloaded.
When he looked back, she’d planted her hands on her hips. “Are we both alive and well?”
“Yes, but—”
She indicated the guns. “And did I, or did I not prove I could shoot a pistol to defend myself?” She notched that infuriating chin.
“A pistol you stole from me within a hairbreadth of the slice of my dirk.”
Alice held out both her arms and did a slow spin. “Am I cut?”
Quinn gave her a slow, thorough, head-to-blessed-boot evaluation. Warmth spread within him. “No,” he snapped. Was he talking to her, or giving himself a warning?
“Will you admit that perhaps you were wrong as well?” She cocked her chin.
“No.” Mimicking her stance from moments ago, He crossed his arms over his chest and lifted a defiant chin.
“But—”
He dropped his hands and moved dangerously close shaking his head. “This is one argument you will never win.”
“Why not?”
He locked his gaze with hers. “I’m the captain .”
She opened her mouth to speak and Quinn did the only thing he could think to stop her. The thing he’d debated doing for days. The one thing he couldn’t stop thinking about. He kissed her. Hard. Like a slow match to black powder, a flash of pure longing shot through him.
* * * *
Gavin folded the eleventh letter and returned it safely to its appointed envelope. He rubbed at his eyes before raking his hands into his unbound hair and holding his head to keep it from hitting his desk. What time was it? He didn’t care. It mattered not. Sleep would continue to elude him. Even now, closing his eyes, the rush of memory was still too vivid.
He’d kissed Alice Tupper to shut her up, but the moment his lips met hers, the inner turmoil of his mind and his body began to shout loud enough to drown out any rational thought. He’d shocked her at first. Holding her by her shoulders, his mouth had claimed hers. She pounded a fist to his chest a second before taking firm hold of his lapels and standing fast.
Her mouth had been opened to no doubt fire another shot in his direction about her need for a cutlass and pistol. Gavin used the advantage to ravish the sweetness of her lips. But then Alice unleashed a much more lethal weapon—she slid a hand up to caress the nape of his neck and she kissed him back.
Before the smoke cleared, he’d wrapped his arms around her waist and hauled her brazenly against the growing ache in his trousers. He tipped her back, curving his body over hers, making her slip her arms tighter about his neck.
When sanity reigned, they righted and separated as if they’d been burned. Her erratic breathing matched his own. His heart worked at a full gait to pump blood to his ready cock. Their eyes locked, and before he could come up with a single sensible word to utter, Alice spun on her heel and left.
Bloody hell. What had he been thinking? He hadn’t. That was clear as a May morn.
Gavin looked at the small stack of letters now lying before him. Beth’s letters. Letters she’d written when he’d gone to sea as a green-horned lad of twenty.
They’d only been wed a little over a month. He hated leaving her in their