“Why do you even care? I thought I was just a passing fancy.”
His eyes darkened. “It isn’t what you think, Jo—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” She lifted her hand. “Just leave me alone.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Isaac grunted ashe pulled a line tight, the oiled cords slipping against his calloused palms. Night settled thick and heavy over the frigate, wrapping everything in shadows and hush. The wind had died to a gentle breeze across the sails, leaving only the creak of the rigging and slap of waves against the hull.
His shoulders ached from hours of labor under the watchful eyes of men who would just as soon slit his throat if Thorne gave the word. Ever since the scuffle with Burke, the crew had given him a wide berth on deck. That suited him just fine. Meant they couldn’t see all the little ways he helped slow the ship further.
Nothing too obvious. Just a loose knot here and a slackened line there.
He pulled the rope harder—too tight—and tied a knot, securing it fast to the pinrail. Stepping back, he flexed his fingers, the ache in his joints a welcome distraction from the storm within him.
His gaze wandered to the forecastle deck, where Josephine sat perched on top of a stack of crates. The light from a single lantern cast its dim glow over her, shimmering from the dark braid over her shoulder. He sighed. Even as night fell and the majority of the crew slowly descended to their berths, she stayed above deck. Though his feet itched to stride over to her, he held fast.
She’d told him to leave her alone. And he had.
Even if every bone in his body ached to do otherwise.
He’d replayed his conversation with Thorne a hundred times over in his head. How much had she heard?
Enough.
A vise-like grip took hold of his chest. He welcomed the pain. Urged it to quell the knot tightening in his stomach. Damn his mouth. But also, damn her for hearing—and misunderstanding.
He knew better than most how quickly Thorne would wield the bonds of affection against him. How the pirate would run her through without hesitation if it suited him. She’d called out his name in front of the captain on the schooner’s deck earlier.
A mistake.
Because as quickly as Thorne would use her against him, he would do the same to her by leveraging him and his life. Could force her to do terrible things to try and save him. A precarious position. He’d thought to downplay it. To make the captain believe he was wrong about how much she meant to him.
He was wrong.
Wasn’t he?
Isaac.
The way his name had wrenched from her throat earlier had nearly undone him. Almost as much as it had watching her gasp it in the mirror as she pleaded for more. As he claimed her as his own.
His own.
He gave a shaky laugh and took hold of the next line. He had no claim on her. Not when oceans separated their homes. Not when her father was the blasted governor of Tortuga—one who would skin him if he found out what had already happened between him and his daughter. And especially not when she was promised to another man.
Though his heart stirred and dared to hope, he smothered it. Foolish thoughts. He’d accepted his lot as a solitary soul. Had done a damn good job at keeping it that way. He studied the curve of her jaw in the flickering light and cursed the way she made him want things he had no right to want.
Marrying the merchant would be better for her. She would havestability. Could sail with her husband whenever she wished. Wouldn’t be left behind by a man bound to duty, to danger, to a life that could never truly be hers.
After a long moment, he turned from her and gazed into the blackness stretching as far as the eye could see. They had passed Charleston as the last rays of light streaked the sky, a few hours prior. Which meant…
He squinted ahead.
There.
A faint light glimmered ahead—the Tybee Lighthouse.
They would make it to the docks in Savannah in less than six hours. Unless Thorne decided to anchor in the river and launch his attack from there. He pursed his lips as he stared over the sea. It made sense. Would shave off over an hour of sailing and make for a clean getaway with fewer eyes on the ship. He gave a grim nod. That’s exactly how the pirate would do it.
