grasp over her hand as he gave Pryce a heading.
Darkness and damp-slickened steps made scaling the ship’s side a treacherous proposition, even with Nathan guiding from behind. Cate had barely managed halfway up when two stout arms reached down to lift her up over the gunwale. As she was lightly set down on deck, she was struck with an overwhelming sense.
Home.
Something longed for, now found.
Silence was the order, stealth an utmost necessity, the urgency to make weigh sharp in the air. With no more than a gesture or nod from their superiors, the men were but dark blobs against a darker deck as they moved in a silent ballet to set sail. The flat line of the topsails and jibs bellied as the filled, inching the ship into motion. The slap of bare feet, creak of rigging, and the Morganse’s sigh of relief to be off.
Nathan steered Cate through the scurrying crewmen to the Great Cabin. The moon was visible through the stern windows. Now no more than a glow behind the island’s curved back, the silver beams streaming through the glass barely reached the table. Nathan deposited the sewing boxes on the table. Glancing outdoors, he steered Cate backwards, out of the way of prying eyes, and kissed her there. He held her loosely, his lips barely brushing hers, intending a reserved parting. His resolve quickly dissolved and he grew more ardent. His arms tightened and his mouth became more demanding. She pressed her hips against his, offering, asking. A trunk pressed against the backs of her legs; he could take her there. There was plenty of room, and it wouldn’t take long. She was ready, moist and full, and he was already rigid against her leg. A flick of the tongue or a touch of the fingers would be all it would require.
Nathan broke away with a gasp. Bracing his forehead against the bulkhead, he closed his eyes and grimaced, as if waiting for a spasm to pass. He cut a sideways look, the corner of his eye pinched with a combination of regret and curiosity.
“Siren.” He smiled, sly and crooked. “Always believed them to be naught but fantasies, but me thinks I’ve found one.”
Groaning at the loss of what might have been, he pushed upright. He hesitated, making a visible effort to collect himself, and then bent to kiss Cate again.
“They do say duty is a heartless master,” he said into her hair. “I had plans of things much greater, but I’ve reefs to clear and a commodore to evade.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Nathan made a sarcastic noise in the back of his throat. “Bloody damned near did, twice, no three times. You’ve no idea how near I came to locking you up.”
With considerable effort, he held her away at arm’s length, and said, “Properly.” A pledge to himself, a vow to her.
“I could be a while.” Nathan winced at the prospect, and allowed Cate to see his longing. “It ’tis a wonder how a moment can pose as an eternity.”
Weak-kneed, Cate sat heavily on the trunk and watched Nathan go out, disappearing into the darkness. She waited for her heart to steady and lucid thought to return.
I could be a while.
She took a tiny bit of skin at the back of her hand between her thumb and forefinger and pinched until she was on the verge of breaking the skin. She cautiously looked around, waiting.
Nothing had changed. The tingle of Nathan’s mouth was still on her lips, the taste of him still on her tongue. It wasn’t a dream.
The weight of guilt kept her seated, guilt for having made Nathan suffer, for making herself suffer. The mind reeled at the joys that had been missed. And yet, how could she have known? She harbored a deeper appreciation of his powers of deflection, of how thick that mask of his had been.
At last, Cate rose. Her first steps a bit unsteady, she found her way through the room’s deep shadows to the galley steps and went down to procure a ewer of hot water from Mr. Kirkland.
Once back in the sleeping quarters, she filled the basin. Prudence had used the last bit of soap, and so for a bit of fragrance, she sprinkled a pinch of dried lavender from her blood box atop the steaming surface. Bathing was a ritual performed most every night, but this time it was done with exacting care, the hot water echoing the paths Nathan’s hands had traced. She fumbled with the sponge,