Pirate's Promise (Sentinels of Savannah #5) - Lisa Kessler Page 0,79

he frustrated her at times with his penchant for rushing into a situation without plotting out a workable plan first, but he also made her laugh, and he looked at her like…she mattered.

Not because of what she did or how good she was at her job.

He just enjoyed being with her.

And she loved being with him.

He gave her a new perspective to view the world around her.

By the time she got back to her condo, she’d mentally talked herself in circles. She took the elevator up to the fourth floor and walked the long hallway to her studio. She hadn’t been home in over two weeks.

She unlocked the dead bolt and stepped inside, turning on the lights and dropping her keys in the dish on the counter. The lights of the city twinkled outside her window, taunting her with bustling activity outside. She crossed the room and stared out. This was a different view than the one she’d had from the crow’s nest on the Sea Dog.

Grumbling at herself, she turned away from the window. She needed to get the pirate out of her head. A shower. Maybe that would help.

She went into her bedroom and turned on the light. The photos of her with her sister sat on the dresser, and her heart clenched. Her younger sister had lighter brown hair, and her facial features were a little bit smaller, but they shared the same smile. The resemblance was uncanny. She hadn’t spoken to her sister in a few years. Someday she’d have to break contact with everyone other than Department 13 for good. Once the world started to notice she wasn’t aging.

She pressed her lips together, unwilling to deal with any more emotions right now.

In the bathroom, she twisted the knob to start the shower and got undressed. A large scar marred her stomach, slightly lower than Greyson’s, but the same length. The curse had left its mark on both of them. She ran her finger along the smooth, raised skin as her eyes welled with tears.

What had she been thinking? She never should’ve taken a drink from that cup. She wasn’t equipped for eternity. Did she really think work would be enough?

It would have to be now. She’d hurt the one person who’d ever dared to love her.

She stepped into the hot shower and finally allowed the tears to flow.

For Greyson, for her family, and for the mortality she’d never realized she’d miss.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Greyson wiped the sweat from his brow and finished pounding the final nail into the crow’s nest at the top of the Sea Dog’s new mainmast.

Department 13 had transferred the agreed payment for their assistance with the Tyrfing, and Bale had included an extra $10,000 for repairs to the ship. Greyson had turned down two new personal security gigs so he could help Drake and Colton repair their beloved beauty over the past three weeks. He’d been eager for the hard labor, working himself until he was too tired to think about Aura.

It had been three weeks since she’d said good-bye, and her face still haunted his dreams. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to delete the damned photo from his cell phone, either. He did his best not to give her any of his waking hours. Each day, the pain in his heart dulled. Maybe one day she’d just be a memory. The thought hit his gut like a bitter pill.

She could have been so much more.

He sucked in a deep breath of fresh sea air and stared down the Savannah River, toward the open ocean. Colton hoped to sail the Sea Dog out later this week to test the new mast with full sails. Greyson welcomed the trip.

Since their voyage to Glasgow, the Sea Dog now carried unwanted memories of stolen kisses, of Aura’s face covered in gunpowder after firing the cannons. He needed some new adventures to blot out the ghost of what he’d lost.

He climbed over the railing of the crow’s nest and back down the ratlines. When he got about halfway down, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He stopped his progress and wrapped his leg in the lines as he dug his phone out. A text filled the screen. His pulse raced when he saw the name of the sender. Aura.

Target practice isn’t the same.

He stared at the text long enough that Colton shouted up from the deck. “You stuck up there, mate?”

“Fuck you!” Greyson replied. “I got a text.”

Below, Colton shook his head. “Ratlines are no place