I gave her an encouraging smile. Whatever she wanted, I’d give her. Whatever made her happy.
She considered for a moment while Morton heaved a wooden bucket over the back end of the jolly, whistling some seaman’s tune. When her eyes met mine again, they’d eased, as did her hold on the side. “I’d like to see this side of Brighton.”
Morton hopped out of the boat with the nimbleness of a man half his age, and said, “Best be on our way, then. Fish to be caught before the crowds rush in.”
With that, he shoved hard on the boat’s stern. Rocks groaned beneath our weight until the water’s edge pulled us into the sea. Just as the boat started to sway, Morton splashed in the water, heaving himself back in and over the center thwart. His weight tipped the boat to the right, and Anna went rigid. Her arms flailed out, and I caught her with a laugh, pulling her closer on instinct.
“I have you,” I said through my humor. “I won’t let you fall in.”
“But we mightbothfall in, and I shall drown.”
Morton cast me a humored glance. He practically lived on these waters. “If we both fall in,” I said, loosening my hold on her as the boat evened out, “Morton here can swim us both on his back.”
“I’ve wrestled sharks in these waters, miss,” he called over his shoulder, and I rolled my eyes. “Three at a time, and I only lost the tip of my right little finger.” He held it up, wiggling it for effect. Likely a tale he told his children. He uncovered two long, heavy oars at the center, secured them on the boat, then, his back to us, dipped them into the water.
The jolly boat rocked as Morton paddled one side, then another, humming a new, hoarse tune that carried on the wind.
“There are sharks in these waters?” Anna breathed.
“None that you will see.” I gripped the boat along her back, leaning halfway into the corner of my side of the bench, my knees angled slightly toward her. “Though perhaps we’ll watch Morton reel in something substantial.”
“That would be exciting,” Anna admitted, looking up at me through her lashes.
A gush of wind blew past us, followed by unsteady waters. The boat rocked hard, and Anna gasped. She leaned into her corner, gripping the side, the bench, anything, like a cat bracing over a bucket of water.
She paled, muttering something about “Still alive” and perhaps a few choice words she shouldn’t’ve. The waters would not relent. In truth, she needed a distraction until Morton found a good place to fish.
Her face scrunched, gaze aimed at her feet. I tried to think of a witty remark, but nothing came. I should’veinsisted we stayed on land. Should’ve bought her one of those ridiculous shell trinkets from a tent shop and gone home. The boat hit an even rougher current, rolling from one side to the other, and Anna struggled to stay upright. I shifted in my corner, an attempt to keep an appropriate distance, but accidently knocked her shoe with mine.
I started to draw back, but she followed, moving a mere measure on the bench. The toe of her shoe met my heel as though that little contact could ease her suffering.
I stopped breathing, focused entirely as I was on Anna. What should a man in my position do? I was her guardian, but I was also a man who very much wanted more than a host should. My mind reached for something to say. Conversation was the safest option.
A tremor jolted through her.
“Are you cold?” I asked.
“N-no, not exactly,” she said on a breath. “This ride is rougher than I imagined.”
Another high wave knocked her sideways, nearer to me, but this time, neither of us tried to avoid the shifting of the boat. I let it pull me right, then felt her thigh align with mine.
My breath hitched, but I tried not to move. I sat still, my hand gripping the frame of the boat, afraid to move. Afraid to scare her off. My heart pounded like a drum against my chest, sounding wildly in my ears, as the boat rocked once more. Anna must’ve lost all strength, for her side brushed mine, and she stayed.
“Anna?”
“Forgive me.” She forced a self-conscious laugh. “You must think me some fragile thing.”
I shouldn’t allow her nearness. Not when it made mymind so hazy. But she needed me. And she felt so soft, so enticing. Like a warm cup of chocolate after a snowstorm, pooling low in my belly.
I let my fingers gently graze her arm. “I think you are delicate. There’s a difference.”
She pinched my side and made me jerk upright. “I thinkyouaredelicate.”
“A weak retort,” I teased, settling back. “You must be very ill.”
“I’m afraid I am very much that.” The waters roiled, and she braced herself, leaning her weight into my side. Jasmine filled my senses.
“It’s all right,” I whispered into her hair as I rubbed her arm. “We are almost far enough out. Things will settle.”
