The Pirate Captain - By Kerry Lynne Page 0,353

don’t know what I did. For the last couple of days, he had been growing touchier and touchier, and then he just exploded.”

Thomas pressed his palms together and watched as his fingers laced in and out among themselves. “Well, give him time; it will pass.”

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t think it’s going to be that easy. We both said some horrible things that—”

“All in the heat of anger,” he said, bearing a tolerant smile.

“It was more than that.”

Cate swallowed with some effort and touched her throat. The soreness there brought back the murderous look on Nathan’s face as he had squeezed.

“He meant it. I could see it was something he had been waiting to say for a long time, as though it had been festering for…for…forever.”

“Well, no matter.” Thomas slapped his thighs and rose. “You know where everything is. I said you’d have a place here and I meant it. You’re welcome for as long as you wish.”

So caught up in her own turmoil, she had overlooked how her arrival might have appeared. “Thomas, I’m not here to—”

He broke into a self-conscious grin. “No, no, don’t worry. Never entered my mind.”

Under its golden tan, his fair skin flushed, his ears going pink. “Well, that’s a bit of a lie. It wouldn’t be Christian of me if I didn’t say that I’d love to have you—not in the Biblical sense,” he was quick to add. “Well, aye, in that way too—but you’re too wound up in Nathan, right now. Give it time; I’ll wait.”

He ended with a quiet note of confidence, one she didn’t share.

“Thomas?”

He stopped at the door and looked back over his shoulder with an expectant lift to his brows.

“In all honesty, thank you,” Cate said.

Waving an obliging hand, he left.

###

Morning broke bright, but by Thomas’ judgment, the sun was the only thing that shone on the Griselle. Cate looked like hell and seemed to feel worse. No small wonder. It had been a fitful night for all aboard. The woman didn’t suffer privately.

Cate sat brooding over a cup of coffee, looking at it as if she wished it was something else. He took a drink and winced. The word had been passed for Youssef to make it so as decent people might drink it. Waste of words, by all evidence. He watched from the corner of his eye—she melted under direct eye contact—as her cup rattled against the saucer at every lift; something stronger was definitely in order.

He gave her a wide berth: saying nothing, making no gesture that might oblige her to speak. The mere utterance of “Good morning” had come with a wobbling chin and flooding eyes. Anything further came with uncommon effort. And so, they sat at opposite sides of the table in silence.

The moment he heard a boat hailed, he knew who it was. Cate heard Nathan’s voice and looked up in round-eyed horror. Tears welling, she began to tremble worse.

“I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to hear him,” she said with the coldness of a henchman. Her fist curled around the nearest thing to hand, an innocent coffee pot, and she tensed, ready to fling it. Thickened by crying, her voice was a ghost of its usual melodic self. “He can rot in hell for all I care.”

The corner of Thomas’ mouth curled. “Aye, well, he would probably tell you there’s a good chance o’ that already,” he said dryly.

To give Cate ease, he took up a position at the door, shoulder against the frame and arms crossed.

Nathan’s arrival was to be expected. The surprise was the hour: two bells had just run on the forenoon watch. It was early, remarkably so.

“I give you joy o’ the morning!” Nathan reeked of over-anxiousness as he bounded up over the side. It uncommon for him to show his colors so readily.

“Joy to yourself. Too quiet on the Morganse, so you came here to stir things up?”

Nathan’s jaunty step slowed. By some thought process known only to Nathan, clearly he had thought Thomas would be ignorant of what had transpired. Granted, Thomas didn’t know everything, but he knew enough.

Nathan hesitated then pressed forward, though a bit more heavy of foot.

“I allowed you two desired a visit,” Nathan began. “But now I’ve come to fetch her back. I know how anxious she’ll be, what with how she worries about the crew. Veritable grandmother she is. Worry. Worry. Worry. I’ve advised she was to be old before her time, if she is to