Page 103 of Of the Stars and Sea

Grayson smiles again and my chest tightens. “I’ve told you before, I’ve searched for?—”

A loud knock at the door makes me jolt and Grayson chuckles. “It’s just Tommy,” he says, peering toward the door at the opposite end of the room. “We’ll finish this conversation later,” he adds, nipping the bottom of my earlobe with his teeth.

Heat trails down the side of my neck, shooting straight for that spot between my legs. “Or we could just finish it right now.” I toss the duvet off my bare body as he rises. His cock twitches when he looks down at me, putting on a show with my fingers diving below my belly button.

Grayson’s lip curls up with a low growl as his eyes dart toward the windows. He snatches the duvet and throws it on top of me and I laugh. “Cover up, Rowenya. Unless you want blood to be spilled on the deck of my ship on your behalf.”

Sitting up against the pillows, I scoff. “Don’t bring me into your petty possessiveness. If you spill blood, that’syourchoice. I’m just laying here in a bed that’s far too empty for my liking.”

I stick my bottom lip out and flutter my lashes at him. Grayson’s face is bright as he chuckles, then lowers himself to the edge of the bed. “You’re a wicked little thing.” He kisses the top of my hair before rising again and walks over to one of the wingback chairs in the corner to retrieve his pants.

“You’re the one who’s left me in this bed all alone.” Tucking the duvet under my arms, I cross them over my chest. “I think most would say it isyouwho is wicked.”

“That mouth is going to be the death of me, I’m sure of it.” He shoots me a smirk as he laces the front of his pants—not that the fabric does anything to hide his erection.

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” I toss back.

Grayson just stares at me and I shrug, feeling the edges of my lips tilt upward.

Bowing his head, he murmurs something under his breath that’s too quiet for me to hear. Then, he strides toward the door. But before he makes it halfway, he stops and turns toward me again and points. “Keep yourself covered.”

“Aye-aye . . .sir.” Grayson’s eyes darken, and I know he was hoping I’d say the one word I’ve refused to utter, despite all that has transpired between us.

He shakes his head and I giggle.

“Good morning, Tommy,” he says, finally opening the door.

“Good morning, Captain,” I hear Tommy reply, and Grayson steals a withering glance at me over his shoulder, which only makes me laugh harder.

The door blocks Tommy’s body from my view, but I can tell from the sound of his voice that he’s nervous speaking to Grayson. I make a mental note to tell Tommy that he doesn’t need to cower in Grayson’s presence just because he’s the captain. Grayson will respect him a lot more if he stands tall in who he is.

“We’ve made it as far as we can go without your guidance. Zaos requests your help on the quarterdeck.”

“Wonderful, tell him I’ll be right there.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Grayson shuts the door and walks back to the chair where his tunic, bandolier, and weapons belt are draped across the back.

“Wonderful?” I get out of the bed and reach for my clothes that I discarded onto the floor last night.

Grayson’s face shifts into that mask of stone and my heart breaks a little as I witness the passing of that beautiful, playful smile he donned just a few moments ago.

“That’s hardly the word I would use to describe the news he gave you.” I poke my head through the hole of my tunic and tuck it into my pants.

Grayson’s voice is haggard and low as he says, “There’s no reason for me to evoke panic in my men. They need to keep a good head on their shoulders for what we are about to face.”

I sigh. “I know you’re right. I just hate to see the way you pretend in front of them. You’re afraid.” I lift the corset over my head and walk to him. Turning around, I give him my back and he gently starts tugging on the laces.

He’s quiet for a moment as he works his way down the corset. The tender swipe of his fingertips against my back has me wanting to lock the door so no one else can disturb us when I strip him bare.

Treasure be damned.

“I’m not scared for myself. I’m scared for them. Foryou.” A whisper of rubbing fabric cuts through the room as he ties the bottom laces. Then his hands move up the sides of my arms. Up and up until he traces the bare skin of my decolletage.

Turning in his arms, I wrap my own around his waist and tilt my head back to look at him. “Everything is going to be fine. You just need to have a little faith.”

“Mmmm,” he grumbles. “If only having faith would ensure we have a successful journey across Dead Man’s Passage.”

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