Page 39 of Of the Stars and Sea

What a hellish evening that was.

I follow him to the long bar on the left as his crew follows Zaos further inward to a group of empty tables at the back. The moment people take notice of us, a hush settles over the crowd, and whoever is strumming their fingers over the strings of the harp stops.

Grayson pays them no mind as he leans his elbows on the bar, the leather of his long coat crinkling.

“What’re you fools all staring at?!” someone from down the bar hollers. Not a second later, and everyone goes back to their conversations and the harp player begins plucking the strings again.

I slide up next to Grayson, careful not to touch his forearm, and peek across him to see a large man with curly red hair and a long red beard huffing as he walks toward us. When he stops in front of Grayson, his thick nose twitches as he sniffs the air twice. “Well, aren’t you ripe as a rotten apple. How long have you been at sea for, boy?”

I chuckle and Grayson whips his head toward me. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who notices how badly you and your men stink.” It was a lie straight through my teeth, but it feels good to take a jab at him.

He scowls at me before turning back to the bar keep. “Harrick, I don’t appreciate you givingthisoneany more ammunition to fire at me with.”

The bar keep—Harrick—whips a dirty white towel over his shoulder and bellows a deep rumble of laughter. “The moment I saw you walk in with this pretty little thing in tow, I knew I had to put you in your place.”

“Sheisa pretty thing, isn’t she?” Grayson’s ocean blue eyes slide to me once again and the edge of his lips tick upward.

“Bastard,” I grumble.

“With a silver tongue too.” Harrick snickers. “I bet you have your hands full with that one.”

“His hands aren’t full of anything of mine,” I chide and Harrick raises his brows at me then laughs again.

Grayson tilts his head until his lips graze the cuff of my ear and whispers only for me to hear, “We’ll see how long that stays true.”

I elbow him in the side of his ribs. Hard.

He doesn’t even cough from the impact, but my elbow stings like wildfire.

“You’re insufferable,” I retort.

“And you, Little Pearl, are deliciously agitating.” He slides a lock of hair behind my ear. A line of heat singes my skin fromwhere his finger strokes my cheek. “Don’t forget the rule. You lay your hands on me and I get to return the favor.”

I growl at him, which only makes his blue eyes shine brighter, the small flecks of white ignite like silver flames.

“We’ll need all the rooms you can spare, Harrick,” Grayson says without taking those eyes off me. My gaze finds his lips. I know he catches my mistake, because they widen into a devilish grin. His pearly white canines are striking against the dark tan of his skin. I silently curse him for how beautiful he is. But mostly, I curse myself for—after everything he’s already done—still wanting to reach out and touch him.

I flex my hand wide before tightening it into a fist. The sharp bite of my nails against my skin barely distracts me from the growing heat between my legs.

“We have several available,” Harrick says and we both turn to look at him.

“Good,” Grayson replies. “Do you have my usual room?”

“The left corner room with a view? Yes.”

“Wonderful.” He looks back to me with a smirk. “It’s the only bed big enough for two.”

I blanch. “For two? No. I want my own room.”

“What you want and what will happen are two very different things. I told you once we made it ashore you are not to leave my side—that includes while you sleep.”

“I amnotsleeping in the same room with you.” Sharing a wall had been close enough while we were on the ship, but there is no way in hells I am going to sleep in the same room, let alone the samebedwith Grayson Tyde.

“There’s a room right across the hall from?—”

Grayson raises his hand to Harrick and the man is silenced. Just like that. Without a single word from Grayson, Harrick turns around and walks to the other side of the bar. I scowl at hisback as he goes, frustrated that I’m left all alone with the bane of my existence.

Grayson moves further into my space. I try to back up but there’s nowhere for me to go stuck between him and the bar. “What are you so afraid of, Little Pearl?” His head dips lower and I can smell the ocean’s musk on him . . . and the decadently fresh scent of cedar.

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