That was done now. He couldn’t change what he’d done, but he could fix this. He could make sure she was comfortable, fed, rested….
For how long exactly? Until she’s in the palace, and then what? Who’ll put her first once she’s at the mercy of the entire kingdom?
No. Staying with her would only make things worse.
For whom?
“Matt?”
He pushed the snarling disagreement of his beast resolutely to the back of his mind. He wasn’t going to think about it. Wasn’t going to think about how soon their time would be over. They were going east. He had a day and a half left. Two more nights. And he was going to give her everything he could in that time.
If he’d had it in him, she would have been the woman he would have loved for the rest of his life.
Fuck. She was already the woman he would love for the rest of his life.
The realization had him gripping her hand too tight, as if he could somehow hold her close forever.
“Are you okay?”
He loosened his grip and forced a smile. They only had this time, and he was going to use it to show her how it felt to be someone’s priority. To be cared for. For the rest of her life, she would know.
It should be you. You should be the one who loves her.
Gods. His whole being pulsed with the wish that he could be that man. It took everything in him not to fall to his knees and beg her to forgive him for robbing her of her dream. To make her promise him that she would never grow to realize how much she resented him. That she would never send him away. But he knew that was impossible.
She turned her face up to look at him as he pushed open the cabin door. “Matt, you’re worrying me.”
How could he answer? There was no sensible reply. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and leaned his forehead down on hers. “I’m sorry you had to face that alone.”
She gave him a tired smile, rubbing her nose along his before stepping back and into the cabin. “Where did you go?”
“Rafe was checking on my shoulder.” He circled it forward and back, appreciating how good it was to have the achy stiffness healed. Rafe had spent some time on his ribs too, and he felt better than he had in days.
And so much worse.
“Good.” She watched him rotate his shoulder with soft eyes. “I’m glad.”
He looked around the first mate’s cabin, rather than at her, not wanting to face her easy forgiveness. It was tiny, cluttered with barrels and wooden chests, a small desk pushed into the corner, and imbued with a strong smell of salt and rum. A hammock was strung between two large timbers, only just clearing the crates beneath it.
She stepped over the barrels to the small porthole, her face pale, but relaxed as she looked out over the tossing waves of the harbor. “Isn’t it beautiful? I imagined it as big, but I never realized quite how vast.”
His heart kicked in his chest. Or maybe that was his beast turning. He didn’t know anymore.
The view through the porthole was, indeed, beautiful, in a cold, dangerous way. A vast gray expanse of white-capped seas and low, ominous clouds.
He had seen storms raging over the sea as lightning forked and flashed and had sat on sandy beaches under blue skies. But none of those experiences had ever made him feel the depths of what he felt when he looked at her—the power, or the beauty, or the danger.
There was a tap at the door, and a tall sailor with deep auburn hair and dark skin let himself in to set down a waterskin and wooden cups with two plates of hard biscuits, salted meat, and pickled radishes.
Lucy thanked him, and the sailor turned to open the door just in time to let Nim in.
Mathos leaned back against the wall and scowled at her. Nim hadn’t thought to offer any food or drink before, and she could fuck off now.
“Good,” Nim said, “I’m glad your food arrived.” She held out a bundle. “Here. We have some clean clothes for you. Keely is probably the best fit, and she was glad for you to have them.”
“Keely?” Lucy asked. “Matt mentioned her, but I assumed she wasn’t on board.”
Nim grunted, a disturbingly Tristan-like sound. “She’s been staying on the deck. Poor woman. I have never seen such bad seasickness.”
