Page 28 of The Sea of Zemira (The Zemiran Chronicles 1)

She narrowed her eyes as he caught up with her at the door and pressed his hand against it, but pulled back quickly when she looked daggers at him.

“What stories did your father tell you?” he asked, genuinely curious, but also, he did not want her to leave.

Not again,Nola thought. A glimmer of agitation flickered in her eyes. “Pirate, if you don’t move out of my way—”

He loomed closer to her—the heat of her quickened breath warmed his cheeks. She did not move a single inch. Lincoln’s stomach twitched at the excitement. For a minute, he lost his voice. Instead of saying anything else, he shifted on his heel, backing up a step to give her space.

The pirate cocked his head, fire burning in his lust-filled eyes. She looked down as a mischievous grin reached the handsome captain’s lips.

Oh, how I want to taste those lips of hers,Lincoln thought.

The silence looming between them was driving him insane. All he wanted was to reach out, but Nola was clearly angered.

She cleared her throat before saying, “I must leave. Now, I—”

“Name,” he said, a smirk reaching his lips. “Just tell me your name.”

She smiled meekly, adjusting the hood over her hair a little further down her forehead. “Goodbye, pirate.”

“I’m Lincoln,” he said, but she would not look up. “Captain Lincoln.”

She pressed her foot against the door and her hand on the knob and let out a weak breath. “I’m Nola.” She quickly placed her hand over her mouth, not meaning to give him her real name.

“It’s a beautiful name,” he said, watching her hand fall to her side. A peachy hue rose to her cheeks. “Why you so afraid to tell me your name?”

She nibbled on her bottom lip, turning the knob to open the door. Lincoln’s smile broadened as he took another step back, giving her space to move past him.

“You did not see me here today.” That was the last thing she said before stepping through the door into the shadows.

Lincoln immediately regretted letting her go, but it was evident she was running from someone—the blood on her clothes.

Nola,he repeated the name in his mind.

“Hm. You are quite a captivatin’ woman,” he whispered to the warm evening wind.

He let the door close, sauntered back to the bar, and winked at the barmaid. “We’ll be off ourselves. Don’t tell anyone we were here. Eh?” he said, tossing a sack of coins on the counter. “Sorry for all the fightin’.”

“Another day, ’nother brawl.” The barmaid smirked back. “Ye weren’t here. Now bugger off before ye draw guards into me business.”

Lincoln turned to his crew and rested his hand on his pistol, but only felt the empty holster at his hip.

“Oh, bloody hell,” he fumed.

“What is it, Captain?” Mazie asked, resting her arm over his shoulder.

“That girl.”

“Did she reject you or somethin’?” A shrill of laughter left her lips, but when the captain did not respond the way she had expected, her grin turned into a concerned frown. “She drove you mad, then?” She removed her arm and leaned against the barstool next to him, waiting for his reply.

“I thought it was the latter until I discovered she stole my pistol from right under my nose.”

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