No longer concerned with noise, she pushed the door wider and walked inside, doing her best to ignore how good he smelled, like candlewax and wood shavings. Or maybe that was the cabin. Either way, it reminded her of him. She shook her head and trotted over to the washstand in the corner.
“How’s your knife-throwing skill coming?” Rafe asked.
“Improving greatly, thank you.” She pulled a bit of linen from the nearby cabinet and washed her face. Then she cleaned her teeth using toothpowder that she also retrieved from the cabinet. Once she was finished with her ablutions, she sat on the edge of the bunk and shucked first one boot, then the next.
“Tired?” he asked.
“Exceedingly so,” she answered, rubbing her sore feet through her stockings. Breeches might be freeing, but slippers were ever so much more accommodating than boots. How did gentlemen stand them? “What are you writing?” she ventured.
“Some long overdue correspondence,” he answered. “How’s your arm?”
She squeezed her throwing arm and winced. “Sore.”
He dabbed his quill back into the ink pot. “I don’t doubt it.”
She set her boots on the wooden plank floor next to the bunk and climbed wearily under the covers. She stretched and sighed. “Is this what men do all day on ships? It seems quite boring.”
“When the ships are at sea there is quite a bit more work to be done,” he answered with a laugh.
She propped her arms underneath her head and stared up at the ceiling. “What do you normally do at night? Like now.”
“Sleep.”
“And?” she ventured.
“Write letters. I could teach you how to use your wrists to get out of a knot.”
She held up her hands. “No. No. No. Not tonight.” She didn’t think she could take that again. Another lesson being tied up. She’d go mad with lust possibly.
“Very well. Sometimes there is drinking and card games,” Rafe offered.
“We already played cards,” Daphne said on another sigh.
“Well, then.” He snickered. “Care for a drink?”
She sat up, bracing her palms behind her. “I thought you said you didn’t drink while you’re on duty.”
He sanded his letter and began to fold it. “Everything in moderation. Besides, the workday is done.”
She narrowed her eyes on him. “You think I’m going to say no, don’t you?”
He covered the ink pot and put the quill back in the drawer, where he placed the folded letter as well. “I’m convinced of it.”
She arched a brow. “So it would shock you if I said yes?”
He turned in his seat to face her and braced his palms on both knees. “Entirely.”
“Then, yes, I’ll have a drink.” She stuck her nose in the air and gave him a triumphant smile.
Rafe inclined his head toward her. “As you wish.” He pushed back the chair, stood, and opened a small cabinet above the desk. “Brandy?”
“Brandy!” She lurched up.
He flashed his infamous grin and Daphne’s belly did another unceremonious flip. “You said you longed for adventure, didn’t you? And you are a cabin boy, not a lady, at present.”
The man had a good point. “Fine, then. Brandy it is.”
He pulled two glasses from the shelf and splashed the amber liquid into both of them.
