Page 44 of Rose
“Oh, is that what that was…a simple kiss,” he chuckled. “You made even this salty bachelor want to take a wife.” He started down the stairs, calling out, “Thankfully, I will be too busy overseeing business in Calais to find one.”
“Rose.”
She looked up at Tristan. His brow was drawn with concern.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “My apologies for William. He cannot hold his ale. I’ve warned him about gambling with the men. I’m sure he lost a lot more to Piper than just his good sense.”
Her knees felt weak. Her heart pounded, but she fought for control and simply replied, “I’m fine.”
He raised a doubtful brow at her.
“Really, Tristan. ‘Tis not as if I’ve never been kissed before.” She blew out a rush of air. “Although I’ve never been kissed like that.”
He groaned.
Startled, she looked up.
Once more, his eyes burned for her. He let go of her hand and started to back away. “I’m going to leave you now before I kiss you like you truly deserve.”
She watched his tall frame cross the main deck, then climb the stairs to the stern castle where he stood with his back to the ship and his hands gripping the rail. Her gaze traced the wide breadth of his shoulders, then followed his torso down to his trim waist. With a soft groan she turned away and imagined the kiss she truly deserved.
~ * ~
Rose gazed out across the grey water at Calais. Torch fire lined the docks, and even though the hour for supper had come and gone, the wharf still bustled with activity. The firelight allowed her a glimpse of sandy beach, which hugged the shoreline on either side of the harbor. A thrill of excitement shot through her. She could not believe that she was on a merchant ship docked in a French harbor. When she was a young woman, she would always see her brother, Quinn, off on his latest merchant voyage. She would wave as his ship sailed from sight, bound for London, Bordeaux, Flanders, and even Venice. Always, a part of her had longed to go with him to those distant lands.
“Rose.”
She drew a sharp breath and whirled around to find Tristan standing close behind her. “You startled me.”
“Forgive me,” he said. “I’ve been watching you. The eager look on your face reminded me of my first voyage. I was just eight years of age, but I can still remember my first glimpse of a new shore.”
“It would be a lie, if I told ye I wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of solid ground,” she said. “Although I am almost certain ye mean to tell me that I must wait until morning.”
“I hope you are not too disappointed, but you’re right. Tonight, I will go ashore and oversee the unloading of our cargo and ensure Philip has everything else well in hand. In the morning, I will come for you.”
“Will ye not sleep?”
He smiled. “Eventually, I will collapse on deck with my crew and take whatever sleep is left in the night.”
“I can help unload the cargo. I always help my brothers—”
He held up a hand. “Stop right there. On this point, I will not yield. You are not going to haul lumber off my ship.”
“The more hands ye have, the faster it will go.”
“No.”
“But—”
“Absolutely, never.”
“If ye will only just—”
He grabbed her in a crushing embrace, silencing her with a kiss. Slowly, her body softened against his. She reached her arms around his neck. He hadn’t intended to kiss her for so long, but her lips tasted of honey and she just felt so damn good in his arms. He tugged her bottom lip gently between his teeth as he pulled away. Her lids slowly opened. She stepped free from his embrace and reached for the railing. Her knuckles whitened as she held on. Even in the torch fire, he could see the flush to her cheeks. Coming to stand at her side, he, too, gazed out at the harbor, waiting for his own heart to cease its race.
After several moments, she said, her voice still strained, “So, have ye decided how we will spend our time here?”
He cleared his throat. “I have narrowed our choices down to just a few, but the final decision is yours.”
