Page 64 of Scourge of the Shores
Her heart pounded in her chest. “But I can’t come with ye,” she said, lifting her fingers to brush his chest. “Me place’s here. Ma’s here.”
Robert furrowed his brow at hearing her struggle and leaned in at her touch. “Come with me after we kill Cain. Ervin’s an able leader; he’ll take good care of Ma. Leave the island with him; come with me.”
His breath warmed her lips. His scent, a mix of salt and spice, wrapped around her like a tide pulling her under. Her fingers trembled against his chest. She could shove him away. No, she needed to push him away. She needed to end this now. Cut the string before it unraveled, just like Lucas said.
But his voice was in her ear, weaving a different kind of truth: “Ye give me peace.”
Peace.
A thing she had never truly known. Not with Cain. Not even with herself.
Her fingers spread wide against his chest, her fingertips brushing the exposed skin. If she kissed him back, what would she be admitting? That she wanted this? That she wanted him?
She lifted her gaze to meet his. She did want him and the sea, and Ma to be healed and the island to have a leader and be safe—all of it.
Robert’s lips brushed hers—testing, waiting.
"Don’t make me sail away wonderin’ what ye wanted,” he murmured. "Don’t make me think the sea’s too wide between us."
Her breath hitched. The world shrank to this moment, to the warmth of his mouth hovering over hers. Everything felt right with him. He was the one, though everything told her he wasn’t.
“Robert,” she whispered, unsure if she wanted him to stop or continue.
"From the moment I first saw ye on that shore, I knew ye’d take me heart,” he whispered against her lips. His grip tightened on her nape. “Take it, Danna.”
Her hands pressed against his chest, but she didn’t push. Not this time. Though, she could still turn back. Push him away. Step away. That’s all she had to do.
But she couldn’t move.
He waited, lips hovering over hers. He wasn’t claiming, yet letting her choose what she wanted to give. “Tell me to stop, Danna,” he whispered. “Tell me to leave ye alone, and I will.”
But she didn’t. For once, she wanted something for herself.
She lifted her chin just enough for him to do what they both knew she wanted.
He kissed her—fully, deeply—with the taste of spice and promise—a promise she couldn’t accept but wanted all the same. Her reckless heartbeat pounded in her chest. His arms caged her doubts, wrapping around her like an anchor of freedom meant solely for her. The world slipped away with the ebbing tide. The world could burn, Cain could rise—but here, with his lips on hers, none of it mattered.
She yielded to him. Her hands that had pressed against his chest in silent protest soon slid to wrap around his neck. He drew her in closer; the breeze at his back enclosed them as if the sea wanted them together, the DeepMother’s desire for love fulfilled. The wind roared in blessings as his fingers tangled in her hair and grazed the silk-smooth skin of her cheek.
A satisfied breath escaped her before he dove for more. She realized it wasn’t surrender; it was choosing. For once, she’d chosen for herself. Her hands tugged at his hair, and soon, they were both lost in the moment, swept under by the currents, and drowning in each other’s embrace.
But even as the world felt right for once, the sea whispered the DeepMother’s tragic warning. Nothing good ever lasted, for the goddess, too, was burdened with the world’s hate and ached for something beautiful in a sea full of storms. Robert’s kiss pledged both the tide’s return and its inevitable retreat.
CHAPTER 14
The Unsteady Anchor
She fit against him, and he hated it. Hated that he felt more at peace here, with her, than he ever had on the sea.
He sat against the rock wall behind the boulder, leaning Danna into his chest. The top of her head perched under his chin as they watched the waves. She warmed his mind, body, and soul. He held her hands, his thumb smoothing the frayed edges of her bandages into place as if trying to seal his role in her life. For a man who spent his life taking—gold, ships, enchantments—he had never wanted something as much as he wanted her.
He had kissed her like a man starved, like she was the last taste of something he’d never have again.
Because she could be.
She’d kissed him back—hadn’t pushed him away, hadn’t called him a mistake, hadn’t spat his name like a curse.
And yet, he knew better than to hope.
