The Sea Siren

Chapter Twenty-Four

Antony

How can I feel this way?

This much?

My eyes gravitate each place she moves, watching her, unable to process all that has happened since I set foot on this damn ship. Her hair swings at the base of her back as she bends to pick up her nightgown.

"Don't."

She turns at the sound of my voice, a voice that has been silent for some time while my thoughts swarmed. She glances down at the fabric in her fist before draping it over the chair. When she grants me her eyes again, there is a sultry warmness within them—her natural mischievousness.

"Some of the food has been spared," she says, grabbing the plate and the pieces of our meal that can be salvaged from our rampant passion. Some time has passed and not much said, but the fact that she joins me on the bed, placing the plate between us is a notable shift in this strange dynamic we share.

There is one pillow and I shift it near her, waiting until she leans forward to place it behind her back. She appears shocked, which is puzzling. It's looks like those, where her eyes go wide and round, that reveal the glow of youth in her face that's usually bridled. That look builds tension with speed and to alleviate it, my hand reaches blindly for a piece of fruit... just as hers does.

We laugh at the same time. An uncomfortable but satisfied laugh.

I pick up the wine-colored berry and offer it to her, biting back a smile with my teeth. Her eyes flit across my face, her cheeks flushed from the tangle and the past hour we spent in bed. She slips it through her lips, forcing me to look elsewhere, for the will of my restraint has never been lower.

I chew on food, not really tasting it.

"You are a passionate lover," she says, grinning slowly when I begin to choke.

"As are you."

She tilts her head, her hair trickling past her shoulder, grazing her breast. "You must be quite the rake."

"Not at all."

"But I imagine the women swoon when you walk past. A prince, a commander. Handsome... I'm sure most of them would desire your gaze... your attention."

"They wouldn't have received it."

Her smile widens. "And why not?"

"For some time, my mind was occupied by someone else. I wanted no one but her."

It's only as the words leave my lips that I recognize the unreserved truth in them, the truth I just revealed to an enemy. To a woman I've bedded that now has reason to care. "And who was this woman? A princess?"

"I don't speak of her."

She doesn't look deterred whatsoever. "She must have hurt you deeply then."

"It's in the past."

She scoffs. "If only I could castoff mine as you do."

"You still love him?" I ask. "This Michel?"

"I'm not certain I ever really loved him. Not truly."

"You're storming cities to locate him, to hunt him—"

"I trusted him. As a young woman I trusted him blindly and that, trust, is worth more to me than love." She shakes her head, grabbing one of the halves of pomegranate between us. "And I can give neither... to anyone."

The words are just as much for me as they would be for any man.

The resoluteness in her gaze shows me a spirited woman with a great gaping wound that's already overtaken every piece of her. The story that hides behind her eyes would no doubt stun me.