Fine. She swallowed back a strangled sob. “I’ll never set foot on a ship again.”
He turned, the movement slow and deliberate. “Do you mean it?”
She opened her mouth but couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. So, she pressed her eyes shut and nodded. A cicada buzzed overhead in the heavy silence as tears slipped down her cheeks.
“Alright, Miss Warstein. You have a deal.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Oppressive heat boreinto the dark blue fabric of Christian’s uniform jacket, his shirt clinging to his back as sweat dripped down his forehead. Funny how the sun seemed to know when a hanging was scheduled. It was determined to make everyone suffer, guilty and innocent alike.
Isaac stood next to him, blonde hair plastered to his neck. “A real scorcher today, isn’t it?”
Christian merely grunted.
The noose hanging at the center of the square held every bit of his attention. It hung still, without even a breeze to set it swaying. A large crowd packed the area with people from every class milling together. He wouldn’t have expected any less.
The infamous Captain Thorne, reaping his just reward. Ladies beat brightly colored fans in an eerie rhythm, the hurried movement playing with the corners of his vision. Some families had spread blankets and brought along baskets of refreshments. Children weaved among the onlookers, brandishing wooden swords.
“Lieutenant.” A throaty voice brought his gaze down to a curvaceous brunette. Her dress had been laced so tight the mountainous globes of her breasts threatened to spill out. “We are in your debt because of your bravery. However can I repay you?”
Her eyes slanted and she ran them down to his feet and back up, pausing for a long moment below his waist. The insinuation couldn’t have been more clear.
He clenched his teeth. “Being able to serve the wonderful citizensof Georgia is repayment enough.”
She reached out and touched his forearm—a bold move indeed—and leaned in along with an overpowering wave of floral perfume. “I would be more than happy to serve you.”
A cough lodged in his throat. While beautiful, she stirred nothing inside him. Not even a twitch. Because all week, someone else had dominated his thoughts. Someone who turned his blood hot as fire in the middle of the night when he lay awake in bed. Someone whose phantom lemon scent plagued him every day.
Someone off limits.
As if summoned by his thoughts, a flash of red hair glimmered across the square. He bowed to the lady still clinging to his arm. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve some final preparations to oversee.”
Isaac followed him as he patrolled the edge of the square. He climbed the steps to the courthouse and scanned the crowd.
There.
She stood next to her uncle, dressed in a stunning blue day dress. Her hair twisted in a loose bun at her nape with curls cascading down one side. Unlike the other women, she held no fan, keeping her fists clenched at her side as she stared at the platform. Beneath her bonnet, the sun reflected off pale skin. Too pale. Her lips twisted and she rose two slender fingers to press against her temple.
She looked miserable.
“What are you going to do about her?”
He jerked his gaze to Isaac, who stared straight at Miss Warstein. “Nothing.”
His friend snorted and turned to him. “Come now, you don’t truly expect me to believe that?”
“Yes. I do. There can be nothing between us.”
“You know I’m not sentimental, or even inclined toward believing in love, but I can’t help but point out that there’s something there. Besides, why not? Last I heard, she went clean.”
Christian’s throat grew thick.Something there. It was something he’d reflected on all week. Something he began to believe. Until he remembered what his father had done to her parents. Remembered her tears under the Florida sun. That he’d made her sacrifice her dreams.
He scowled. Never mind her dreams were the kind that would get her killed. She was far better off now. Safe. So he would take solace in her certain hatred, in knowing she was no longer risking her neck. It was the best he could hope for, even if it meant not being part of her life anymore.
The pressure in his throat increased and he coughed. He’d come to look forward to each time their paths crossed. The mere sight of her sent his pulse racing. Braver than half the men he knew, a damn good sailor, and more passion than he’d ever seen before. She was the perfect woman.
Almost.
