Pirate's Promise (Sentinels of Savannah #5) - Lisa Kessler Page 0,75
no reason for us to keep it any longer, right?”
He raised a brow. “I guess that’s true.”
“Good.” She sucked in a sip of air, trying not to move her abs. “Then I’ll meet you at the helicopter in a minute.”
He didn’t argue with her as she turned and slowly made her way down the damaged deck, toward the stern. She told herself she wanted to be certain Greyson was healing, too, that she owed him this sword as a debt of gratitude for his help in retrieving it.
But the truth was, she needed to tell him how she felt. It wouldn’t change their reality. She was about to get on a helicopter to D.C., but at least he’d know. There would be another crisis, another threat to Americans, and Bale would need her. She had to go.
But she wished it could be different. Didn’t that count for something?
She took a large step to get around a hole and winced as the move tugged at her tender middle. As she reached the captain’s quarters, Caleb stepped out. He had a gash in his forehead that was already healing, and blood on his shirt. She couldn’t be sure if it was his or Greyson’s.
He frowned as soon as he noticed her. “You’re still here?” He crossed his arms, keeping his voice low and controlled. “You have your sword. Shouldn’t you be back in D.C.?”
Caleb had been kind to her. No longer. Greyson must’ve told him what had happened between them.
She’d envisioned anger might make leaving easier, but it stung. She cleared her raw throat and lifted her chin. “I wanted to be sure Greyson is all right.”
“He’s fine.” Caleb didn’t move out of her way.
The door opened behind him, and a battered Greyson peered out. His shirt was off, revealing the cut in the center of his abdomen. It was no longer pumping out blood, but the wound was still open, probably similar to her own, but she hadn’t taken the time to inspect it yet.
Greyson’s voice was raw and gruff. “I can protect myself, Caleb.”
The navigator glanced over his shoulder. “I’m doing you a favor, mate.”
“Let her by,” he grunted and vanished from the doorway.
A muscle jumped in Caleb’s cheek, but he stepped aside, growling, “He’s had enough games.”
She didn’t bother answering him as she passed.
Nothing had been a game today. That’s why it had gutted her to see Greyson motionless on that deck.
She stepped into the captain’s quarters and found Greyson sitting on the edge of the bed, wiping the blood from his chest with a towel. The cut was healing faster now, becoming a scar straight from his sternum to a couple of inches above his navel.
Maybe the Grail wouldn’t completely erase the damage done by the curse of the Tyrfing.
Maybe she had a matching mark. She’d have to check later.
He looked up, his gaze locked on hers, but there was no trace of emotion. “You made it. Hell of a fight.” His attention lowered to the sword at her side and back up to her face. “Did it work?”
“Yeah. No more curse.” She tapped the tip on the floor with a reassuring hollow thump. With her heart in her throat, she raised the Tyrfing. “I want you to have it.”
He eyed the legendary blade and finally shook his head slowly. “It’s yours. You earned it.”
“I never would have gotten it without you. We don’t need to keep it in the vault anymore now that the curse is lifted.” She screamed at herself to say something real, to tell him how she felt, but the words wouldn’t come. What would they change? Nothing.
Maybe it was better this way.
He stood, and her pulse raced. He took a step closer to her, his hand briefly brushing hers as he took the hilt and slid it free from her grasp.
Her entire beaten body ached for his touch, but she steeled herself against it.
He lifted the sword, inspecting the edge of the blade. Every chiseled muscle in his bare torso called to her.
But she didn’t allow herself to reach out.
He met her eyes again. “I’ll keep it in the armory.”
Her lips parted, her heart thundering in her ears. “I’m going to miss you.”
“No.” He laid the Tyrfing on the bed and crossed his arms. “Don’t. Ye don’t get to try to make me feel better with a trinket and yer pity.” He cleared his throat, reining in his accent. “I’m glad you survived. Your mission is complete. Nothing to keep you here.”