Page 4

“Are ye all right?” he questioned as she gave one final, ragged cough.

The woman cast startled eyes toward him, confusion flickering within their depths, though he couldn’t decipher the color despite the rising sun. She raised a cautious hand to her lips and frowned.

Trevik pulled back, unsettled with her lowering brow. Did she think that he had—

The loud slap of her hand across his cheek echoed about the lugger. Trevik reared back as a collective gasp sounded from his men.

“What the devil did ye do that for?” he exclaimed, holding a hand to his cheek and staring at the woman as if she was mad.

If? No, she was most definitely mad. For what sane woman would slap her rescuer?

He stood, backing up to position himself by the rest of his crew. With fire in her eyes, the woman crossed her arm over her body and pulled her petticoat down to cover her legs once more. She took in the sight of the men aboard the lugger practically surrounding her, and fear flashed across her features.

Clearly, she’d assumed Trevik had kissed her instead of saved her—and clearly, she worried the others on the boat would take advantage of her in another way.

Lowering his pride, Trevik raised a tepid hand to ease her concerns, but it was too late. Her breaths came out in ragged spurts, as if she was no longer in control of her own body, then her eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed across the deck.

No one moved for a moment, Trevik hesitating more than anyone. Was she feigning the fainting spell? Or had she truly lost consciousness? And more importantly—was it worth the risk of another sound slap across his cheek?

“Be she dead now?” Charlie asked.

“No, I think ’tis only a fit, son,” Gryffyn responded. He nudged Trevik with his elbow. “Go on, Trev. See ’ow she fares.”

Trevik never should have taken his authoritative stance.

With his face still stinging, he inched toward the woman and reached down to check the strength of her heartbeat. It was far greater than before, to no surprise of his. Any woman who could strike as severely as she had done was not weak by any stretch of the imagination.

“She be alive, then?” Jowan asked after a moment.

Trevik straightened her head against the wooden deck, ensuring the angle of her neck was no longer cricked, then he backed away. “Yes, she be alive. Charlie, fetch a blanket for ’er, will ye?”

Charlie’s quick footsteps skittered across the deck as he brought forth a blanket. Trevik and Gryffyn worked together to bring the woman off to the side, flattening the cover over her and willing her to stay warm enough until they could get her under proper shelter.

“’Tis a bad thing that’s ’appened, mark me words.”

Those aboard the lugger looked to Edern, one of his eyes wincing more than the other. The wrinkles across his face marred his weathered skin, evidence of years at sea.

“What be bad, Grandfar?” Jowan asked, standing a full head taller than him.

Edern narrowed his eyes further as he stared down at the woman, his lips pulled in so tightly, they fully disappeared. “Bringin’ a sea-maid ’board the boat.”

Jowan’s eyes rounded, Charlie gasped, and glances scattered between the men, but Trevik shook his head at once. There was no chance he would allow Edern’s superstitions to wreak destruction upon his men. Not again.

“She ain’t be no sea-maid,” Trevik said.

“What other reason do she ’ave for bein’ in the sea?” Edern countered.

Trevik paused. He’d been trying to concoct an answer to that very question for the last quarter of an hour. Had she been thrown in the sea by some wayward man? Had she been on a boat that wrecked?

“Maybe she be takin’ a mornin’ swim,” Charlie offered up.

Yes, because that was a logical suggestion. What woman would be swimming alone in the darkness? At least the boy was attempting to help Trevik, though. No one else had said a word. He glanced to Gryffyn for support, but the man merely shook his head with impatience and moved to straighten the netting in the net room.

So Trevik was on his own, then. He motioned to the woman’s exposed feet. One ankle sported a large, purple bruise visible in the growing light. “Whether she be takin’ a leisurely swim or not, she ’as two legs, just like the rest o’ we.”

“It be a siren’s trick,” Edern grumbled, rain spitting from his lip as he spoke. “’Fore she be pulled up, I did see ’er fins with me own eyes.”

Trevik repressed the fact that he’d thought he’d seen a tailfin in the water, as well. Such an admission would hardly be for their benefit.