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An Officer but No Gentleman(35)

By:M. Donice Byrd


“Is the door locked?” she asked after a minute or two.

He wondered why she asked that question. Was she worried that she might need to yell for help or was she worried that someone might catch them in bed together?

“Aye.”

“Do you have enough room?”

“Scoot over a bit.”

Which way? she wanted to ask, but moved closer to the wall.

“You didn’t bring the other pillow?”

“I didn’t really think I’d be here long,” he answered honestly.

She chuckled. “Here take this one. I’ll use your arm, if that’s all right.” When she moved her head to his arm, she realized he wore no shirt. “You’re not naked are you?”

For the first time a touch of alarm raised the timbre of her voice and he felt her body tense.

“No,” he chuckled.

Her rapid breaths slowly calmed, and she realized he had indeed climbed into bed to sleep. “You’re warm,” she said a minute later, her voice relaxed and drowsy sounding again.

“Are you cold?”

“A little.” She turned towards him, placing an icy hand on his chest. The imperfection of a scar lay under her fingers and she lightly traced the line with her fingertips.

His hand halted hers. “Tis a dangerous game you play at, Charlie. You say one thing, but you do another. Would you have me bed you or do you merely tease to find my breaking point. Must you test my resolve to not take you?”

She withdrew her hand. “I did not mean to challenge you, Captain. I.…” She hesitated. “I admit a curiosity has taken ‘hold of my judgment. I do not know the proper way a land girl does these things.”

“Get up!” he ordered abruptly, freeing himself of the covers and getting to his feet.

She scrambled out of the bunk only to have him grab her by the hand. His grip was unrelenting as he moved toward the door only pausing briefly to unlock it and turn the knob. Seconds later, he was in the narrow corridor pounding on another door.

Daniel was still securing his pants when he opened it.

“Out!” Jaxon ordered.

Daniel nearly tripped entering the passageway. “You, in,” he ordered Charlie. “Lock it and go to bed.”

He turned on his heel. “You get the hammock,” he said to Daniel.





12



Charlie wished she could completely avoid Jaxon after the previous night’s humiliation. It wasn’t embarrassing enough that he had not only kicked her out of his bunk, but out of his quarters as well, and now she was going to have to walk the passageway in broad daylight to his quarters, dressed only in his nightshirt to get her clothing. She had been up most of the night. Her body was so accustomed to sleeping in four-hour shifts that sleeping through the night had been impossible. When she finally decided she couldn’t hide anymore, she poked her head out to see if the hallway was clear and felt relieved to see her clothing folded neatly in front of the door sitting next to a ewer of fresh water.

Within twenty minutes, she was ready to face the world. Well, the world minus one. She didn’t know how she could face Jaxon. She didn’t even know what she had done wrong exactly, except for the second time, she had tried to show him she had feelings for him, and for the second time, he had rejected her.

She cursed her upbringing. Surely, if she had lived on land, she would have seen how one goes about letting their feelings be known. He must think she was a trollop. She didn’t know why she couldn’t control herself around him.

This must be the way Morty felt when she rejected him.

She waited until she heard Daniel go into Jaxon’s quarters before she could get her nerve up. With Daniel there, she felt confident she could go in, check the wound and leave. Jaxon would no doubt be glad for the buffer.

She stood at the open door until Jaxon noticed her there. “I’ve come to check your injury,” she said with forced cheerfulness.

Jaxon turned to Daniel. “This would be a good time to get your things out of your cabin since Charlie had finally emerged. Close the door on your way out,” Jaxon said, his voice gruff with irritation.

So much for not being alone, she thought.

Daniel reached behind him for the door as he left, but locked eyes with his brother before intentionally leaving it fully ajar.

Jaxon crossed the room and shut the door. “I’m just going to lock it to aggravate him.”

He untucked his shirt, unbuttoned it, and then completely removed it, tossing it on the bunk.

Did he not know how the sight of his muscled chest and stomach affected her?

She forced herself to focus purely on his wound. She wasn’t going to look at his bare torso and the way his skin clung so tautly to his muscles. His scars would hold no interest—their secrets, no intrigue.