Christian’s hands pulled into tight fists. “All that time I wasted, resources I wasted, looking for her and you kept it from me?”
Isaac raised his hands. “Compose yourself. I didn’t want you doing anything rash. Going after Warstein’s niece would have been tricky business. And then there was your little encounter with her after she almost bested you.”
“Little encounter?” With flared nostrils, he grabbed Isaac’s shirt and dragged him close. “I deflowered her. And you could have put a stop to it.”
Isaac blanched. “I didn’t think you’d go through with it. Thought you were trying to scare some sense into her. You’d never done something like that before. And then it was too late. I hoped you’d have come to terms with her by now.”
“Terms with her?” What the hell did he mean? “Miss Warstein isn’t mistress material, if you haven’t noticed.” Never mind he’d thought along the same lines the night before.
Footfalls came from behind him and Isaac gave a weak smile. “Splendid. So you’ll marry her then?”
Christian recoiled. “Good God, no. She’s not marrying material either.”
His first officer went a shade paler and stared into the space beyond Christian’s shoulder. Every muscle in his body went tense and he knew before he turned who would be there. Still, he hoped he was wrong.
He wasn’t.
She stood feet away, her face paler than Isaac’s. She’d heard every word. Her chin trembled and she took a step back. Then another.
“Red.”
She gave a violent shake of her head and twisted away. Not in time for him to miss the glimmer of tears.
Shit.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Two days.
Forty eight hours of staring at the closed door of the main cabin. At least that’s what it felt like. Christian fought the urge to look again. If she was going to come out, she’d have done so by now. They’d docked in Savannah over an hour ago and though he’d stretched his duties onboard as long as possible, he couldn’t stay any longer. With one last glance over his shoulder, he walked down the gangplank. His boots hit the dock with a dull thud and he scowled. A small crowd had already gathered.
The mayor strode to the front of the group. “Is it true? You rescued Miss Warstein?”
Something clenched hard and heavy in Christian’s gut. If only it were the truth. But he nodded. “She’s safe.”
“Thank heavens!” The portly man turned to the crowd. “Our hero has returned successful!”
A cheer rose and Christian cringed. The hairs on the nape of his neck lifted and he glanced up to find Henry Warstein staring at him with a frown. As much as he didn’t want to speak with the merchant, he’d best get it out of the way. He mumbled his thanks to the mayor and headed over.
“Is she well?”
“She is.” Christian braced for more questions, but they didn’t come.
He watched Warstein’s face as the pirate crew began to disembark.No flicker of recognition. So he didn’t know. Or if he did, he hid it well.
“And Thorne?”
Christian’s entire body stiffened. “He gave us a lot of trouble, but he escaped.”
The older man stroked his mustache. “I’m in your debt, Lieutenant.”
But he wasn’t. Christian’s stomach twisted. It wasn’t honorable, taking credit. But what choice did he have?
Warstein held up a sack. “May I go aboard? I have some things for her to change into.”
Christian waved toward the gangplank. As the merchant made his way up, Isaac approached. “How about we head to the tavern? I have a feeling a good drink will do you well.”
God. He wanted to.
