Bile burned her throat.
A frustrated growl rumbled in her chest as she tried and failed to push deeper. Her hand wouldn’t cooperate. If she killed him, unarmed like this, it would be murder. She would be trading one evil for another. Tears blurred her vision.
The dagger clattered to the floor.
Chapter Sixteen
Christian banged hishead against the cell door.
His eyes scanned the floor in the dark corner for the hundredth time. Somewhere over there lay the wire. His chance of getting free. That he had thrown away.
He’d made a right mess of things. The scrawny little brat was smarter than he seemed and had refused to give Christian his bucket back. And made sure to push his meals just within reach instead of below the door. Not to mention that even if Christian did get a chance to overpower the boy, one of his father’s giants always stood guard at the top of the hatch.
He glared at the plate still lying outside the cell. Damn the brat. Damn his father.
And damn Red.
His teeth ground together at the thought of her. He still couldn’t believe it. Shy Miss Warstein. A pirate.
All this time, she’d played him for a fool. His hand curled into a fist, but he refrained from smashing it into the bars. He ran a thumb across his bloodied knuckles. He’d done enough of that.
So many questions crowded for attention in his head.
Did her uncle know? No, he would never allow such a thing.
But most importantly, how? All along Red and Miss Warstein had been one and the same. All the clues had been right in front of his face the entire time. How had he missed them? Her hair. Her lemon scent. Finding her outside a pirate meeting at the ball. The way she’d fucking kissed him yesterday before the old man had shown up and whiskedher away.
His traitorous cock twitched and he fought the urge to slap it. No more self-harm.
A bitter laugh broke free. He’d been right after all. No coincidences.
Perhaps somewhere far back in his mind he had wondered all along. Knew that something wasn’t quite right. But he’d let the perfectly cultivated image of Miss Warstein cloud his reasoning. In his mind, a high-bred young lady couldn’t possibly be connected to pirates—to Thorne—so he refused to give even a moment’s entertainment to the thought.
A fucking mistake.
He couldn’t help the fleeting vision of taking his full pleasure with her that first night—assuming she was an experienced lover—and raked both hands through his hair. “Fuck.” The word echoed through the cell as the seriousness of her inexperience hit him like a cannon ball.
He began to pace. One thing was certain. There would be hell to pay when he got out of here and caught up with her.
If he got out.
The thought sobered him and he sagged against the iron bars. Prisoner of his own father.
Captain Thorne.
If the navy found out... his blood chilled. He could be dismissed just for being related to the notorious pirate.
How ironic.
The chain above rustled and Christian snapped to attention. No reason anyone would be coming back so soon. It couldn’t have been more than a quarter-hour since the boy left.
But small boots and slender legs came into view.
Christian leaned into the bars. Damned if he was letting the brat stay out of reach this time.
“Forget some...” Christian trailed off as the boy descended.
Not the same boy.
