He caught her wrist and held it still as he pressed kisses to her fingers. They were slow, gentle presses of his mouth. And then his tongue stroked lazy circles around her flesh. Her body tightened in response. Her head swam as her heart accelerated.
Suddenly she was cursing this position they were in. How could she maneuver herself beside him? Underneath him?
But then he stopped. He pushed her hand away and spoke, his words a whisper in their dark alcove.
‘Why do you love me?’ he asked. ‘Why do you think I am the only one for you?’
She thought of all the things she knew about him. His kindness to the street boy in India. The way he saw her skills and was willing to learn from her. She knew, too, that he was diligent in his work and a friend to every sailor on board. She had paid attention to everything he’d done since they’d met. She heard when he had broken up fights between sailors or done extra work when someone was ill.
She saw, too, that even though he had no official status on board, all the sailors deferred to him, even Captain Banakos when it was not critical to the ship. No one obeyed his orders because he gave none. But they took time to teach him, they praised him when he learned and they trusted him with their friendship. That was no small thing among men. And it was the mark of a good man.
She thought of all those things, but none of them were the full answer.
‘Lucy?’
‘I love you,’ she said, ‘because you see me. And you love me, too.’
It was a risk to say that. A risk and a fervent prayer. Her words might as well have been,Please, say you love me, too.
‘No,’ he said, the word sharp. Then he caught her arm and levered himself up, twisting so he could face her awkwardly. ‘I will not say that, Lucy. I cannot!’
‘But—’
‘What kind of man would I be?’ he rasped. ‘What kind of man would say he loves a woman he cannot marry? That man would be the worst kind of cad. He would attach a woman when there is no hope. He would catch her when he could do nothing with her.’ He scooted away from her until he put his feet on the floor. ‘I am not so cruel nor so lost as to do that.’
She swallowed, hearing the anger in his tone. Seeing that he meant to leave right away.
‘Don’t go,’ she pleaded. ‘There is time still. We haven’t yet reached port.’
‘We have already done too much,’ he said. ‘You need to see London and meet more gentlemen. And I…’ He put his satchel on his shoulder. ‘I need to see my sisters.’
Then he was gone.