Page 70 of The Sea of Zemira (The Zemiran Chronicles 1)

Hill pulled out what looked like a banjo and began to play. Nola felt fingers lace between hers. Lincoln smiled at her.

“How about that dance?” He clamored to his feet and held out his hand.

She nodded, and Lincoln escorted her to the center of the deck, wrapping his strong hand around her hips.

Get over here. I won’t bite you,the handsome captain thought, yet!

He caressed her hair gingerly as he ran his hand down her body, his fingers stopping at the bridge of her back.

“Your presence on my ship has troubled my mind, Nola. You have been makin’ it impossible for me to focus on leadin’ the crew,” he said playfully, edging closer until his chest touched hers. “Your beauty is pleasantly distractin’, to be honest.”

A small frown raced over her thin brows.

Pleasantly distracting?Nola thought. What does he mean by that?

However, the moment was perfect. Lincoln’s words made Nola feel intrigued, wanted. Her body—her mind—responded in a way she had not expected. It was a strange feeling, a tingling sensation almost, under her navel.

It was then when the man looked at her with lust. There was desire in his eyes, and though he had felt desire before, Nola made him feel like no one ever had.

You do not know the real me,Nola thought as his piercing eyes continued to leer at her.

The truth was, if he did, he would probably let her go.

Nola had deceived the captain. Her body wanted him, but she, deep down, knew he would never forgive her. She had deceived all of them.

Hill strummed his banjo. He played a soft melody, and Lincoln twirled her to the beat, leaning her back before bringing her up to his chest.

“Lincoln?” she whispered.

His hand quickly rose, cupping her chin.

“Nola?” he sighed, looking down at her, his eyes penetrating hers. At the same time, he curled an arm around her waist and tugged her even closer to him.

Goosebumps from his sensual touch crawled up her spine. She had not realized her brows had knitted into a frown until he slid his thumb over her forehead. That alone relaxed every part of her face, forcing her to let out a calming breath.

“What is it?” he asked soberly, his eyes holding her captive.

The siren girl gave her bottom lip a slight nibble, trying so desperately to find the words to speak.

“Do you believe it possible for a person to change?”

Nola paused briefly, waiting for his answer. Her father had told her haunting stories of pirates and their war with sirens. Her kind was painted as monstrous creatures, and pirates were simply defending their ships.

“Why do you ask that?” Lincoln inquired. But he got no reaction from her. He then turned his gaze to the stars, thinking about a suitable answer.

The pirates from Nola’s father’s stories were nothing like the man she danced with. They were nothing like his crew. Kind. Loving.

Is it because he does not know what I am? She thought again.

He would not be holding her like that and acting so swooned if he did.

Lincoln stared back at her. “No,” he answered. “I don’t believe people can change. We just are who we are. Anythin’ other than that, it’s puttin’ on a facade to fit in and make people comfortable.”

“That’s like saying we cannot grow or become better people,” she replied, “Isn’t it?”

Lincoln’s face remained serene yet unreadable. Nola was getting used to that look ever since she came onto their ship. She honestly had no idea what was going through his head, and it drove her mad.

“I was not born a pirate, Nola. I became one because my heart desired the sea, and nothin’ else,” he explained. “No one could take that from me, even if they tried, and I wouldn’t sacrifice who and what I am for anyone.”

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