Page 21 of The Heart of an Earl

The lot of the crew still looked at her suspiciously, but that was to be expected. Many of the men of theFirehawkhad been on ships their whole lives, hardened by the sea, and they didn’t look kindly on the bad luck of a woman on board their ship. Especially one with red hues in her hair.

Des stepped across the floor of his cabin in the darkness, leaning over the bed to see her profile in the shard of moonlight cutting in through the window. No tears. No quaking breaths. Just sleep.

What looked like blissful, deep sleep.

Des stood straight, looking about the room.

Every night he’d come in to find her crying and he’d silently climbed in bed behind her, holding her, and it had calmed her enough to ease the tears and let sleep overtake. Every one of those nights, she’d clutched his arm to her belly as though it was the only lifeline in the vast sea.

Des stifled a sigh. Without her tears, he wasn’t sure what was appropriate as to where he would sleep.

He put the thought off for a moment as he removed his boots and stockings, but left his trousers in place. His shirt had to go—it always did, for he couldn’t stand the feel of it on his back at night. He stripped off his waistcoat and lawn shirt, setting them atop the chest.

Looking to the floor, he eyed the space. If he curled into a ball on his side, he might just fit.

“We can share the bed.” Jules’s sleepy voice drifted up to him.

“We can?”

Her head shifted on the pillow, her face turning back to him. “Or I can sleep on the floor. It is only right that you shouldn’t have to give up your bed. I am small, I’ll fit. You are enormous, you won’t.”

“I’m not going to have you sleeping on the floor, Jules.”

“Then we can share the bed.”

“It’s not appropriate.” The ingrained chivalry of his youth reared. When Jules was crying, comforting her to sleep was one thing. But to willingly climb into a bed with her—it went so far beyond respectability it was laughable.

A small smile came to her lips, her sleepy eyes crinkling. “You think to invoke propriety at this juncture, Des?”

His shoulders lifted. “A semblance of it, yes, I guess I am.”

“I have been on a pirate ship for six years. Any reputation I once may have harbored has been cast into the depths of time, never to be seen again.” Her left arm reached up, searching for his hand in the shadows of the scant moonlight. “And I have to admit, I like having you behind me. You are solid. Solid when I cannot tether myself to the reality I now find myself in. You’re a place in time to latch onto when I wake up and think I’m still on theRed Dragon.”

She leaned further toward him and her hand found his. Tugging him forward, she pulled him down to the bed.

For the life of him, he knew he should resist. Knew he should drop to his knees and curl up on the floor.

But the draw of the bed—of her body on it, of her heartbeat he could feel pulsating through her skin while she slept—was overwhelming. Something he’d been without for so long.

The real touch of a woman—not just the surges of lust and frantic hands during coupling. The feel of a body next to his, breathing his air, the bare of her shoulders touching his naked chest. It’d been so very long. Skin on skin, just for the sake of being next to another human being.

He’d never thought he’d have it again after Corentine.

But there it was.

He just wanted to be next to her.

He’d been lying to himself about comforting her during her tears.Hehad been the one comforted—she’d done that for him. He hadn’t even realized the fact until that very moment.

Des let her pull him down onto the bed. Shifting onto his side, he wrapped his left arm along the dip of her waist and aligned her body to the front of his.

Uncanny how perfectly she fit into the length of him.

His cock jumped to life.

She wasn’t crying for the first time he’d held her like this and his blasted member had suddenly decided she would be good for other things.

Which she would, he had to admit.

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