“Relax,” he drawled. “My offer is togiveyou modesty. Not remove it.”
“Fine.” I spun, crossing my arms over my chest. “But for the record, I don’t think you know the meaning of that word.”
“Semantics, darling.”
I turned. “What now, you bloody stupid—”
He tugged the knot keeping my dress secured.
I yelped, scrambling to keep the silky fabric in place.
“Here. Over your head,” he hummed, looping the length of fresh black silk around me. “Adjust it and I’ll tie it off.”
“You son of awhore,” I snarled, given no choice but to do as he asked, tugging in an absurd attempt to stretch the narrow strip of fabric over my chest.
A dark chuckle kissed the back of my neck, but he continued with deft fingers, his touch clinical as he tightened the band, tying it off, as promised. “There. Perfectly modest.”
I whirled, fists clenched and buried in a length of the soiled dress, trying not to see the pathetic way it flapped around my hands. “Modest bywhosestandards?”
“Mine. Now step out of that rag.”
To do so would be to stand before him all but naked! I shifted my weight, knees bent, teeth bared.
“This isn’t a fight you can win, Miss Tannovic. You’re getting in that bath. This is your only chance to do so yourself.”
“Fine.Fine,”I hissed, cowed by the idea of fighting him in this state of dress, allowing the ruined garment to fall. I didn’t linger, didn’t want to know if his gaze sampled my disfigured skin as I flung my leg over the rim of the bath. Neither would I think of the last time he’d seen me this exposed, or what his rough hands felt like tracing my modest curves.
No. None of that.
I stepped into the steaming water, breath catching as the ripples lapped at my waist, turning the skin below my bellybutton pink and soaking through my underthings. All before I’d even begun to adjust to the temperature.
Sparing nothing for courtesy, the captain splashed into the pool behind me, soaking my back and sending me bolting to the far side of the tiled bath with a squeal.
“Goddess—” I whirled to face him, retreating until my hamstrings bumped a submerged bench. “What iswrongwith you?”
But he laughed, walking toward me, tall enough that his narrow hips remained above the water even where the pool was deepest. Each rolling step sent a surge toward me, sent the water higher up my ribcage as he approached.
Eying the pendant, I raised my hand, elbow locked, trying to force a demand for space past parched throat.
He didn’t stop, but pressed forward until scarred fingers were splayed across his belly and his ki ignited beneath my palm.
Awareness pounded through my blood, restoring me. At once a refreshing breeze and a granite tomb I couldn’t escape. I swallowed, vision going glassy as I took what he gave. My head tipped forward, toward the hard expanse of bronzed skin stretched out before me.
A sparse line of dark, curly hair caught my blurry gaze as it reached up from the tiny waves, crawling toward his belly button. Or—depending on vantage point—led down… toward that which was concealed beneath the hemline of his underpants.
Was it… as soft as it looked? I licked dry lips, head drifting to the side, hand drifting… lower. Bumping over ridges of muscle slick with dew.
His breath caught, flooding the bond with a heady ki that made my lips tingle with forgotten memories.
But… it was… a lie. A poison altering my perception. Making me forget. I scowled, tearing my attention from his belly, forcing my focus to match the inky gaze above me, then said, “Get your hand off me.”
A single dark brow rose. And then, with that infuriating smirk, he raised both hands.
Cheeks blazing, I snatched my hand back, plunging it beneath the surface.
“Excuse me,” he said, and stooped, one hand braced on the slick tiles beside my shoulder. Forcing me to take a seat or permit him to drape himself all over me.
“Wh-What are you doing?” I whispered, head bumping the lip of the pool, fingers tight on the bench beneath me.
