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She narrowed her eyes. “Why would you want to save me?”
“I need you to kill Artus. And you owe me, for stabbing me in the heart.”
“Are you still on about that?”
“Still? It happened this morning!”
Guards pounded on hallway doors, and the thumps were getting closer.
“What now?” she asked. “As soon as they get to our door, we’re caught.”
He rubbed his stubbled jaw, considering her. “Do you trust me?”
“I don’t know.”
How would she be able to tell, beyond any doubt? Perhaps that wasn’t possible. Trusting someone meant taking a leap of faith.
“Why?” she asked, folding her arms. “What do you propose?”
Royal guards were in a shouting match with the Count’s henchmen out in the hall. Riella likely had moments before Zemora was found gagged and bound, by her doing.
“They won’t dare interrupt a Dark Tide pirate with a maiden,” said Jarin. “Get on the bed.”
“Excuse me?” Riella’s heart rate increased, and it had nothing to do with the guards bashing down doors. “I don’t think?—”
“Relax, I won’t plough you for real. We’ll pretend. But it’ll work, I promise.” He paused, leveling his gaze at her. “And listen, I didn’t know Artus was bringing you here. I never would’ve let him do that to any woman. Or any siren,” he added.
Riella gave a curt nod. “Very well.”
This man was her sworn enemy and was helping her because he wanted her to kill his captain. And yet, she innately believed his words. She only hoped he wouldn’t prove her foolish for it.
“Even if she did stab me,” he said with a wicked grin that made her racing heart skip a beat.
Jarin then tore off his shirt, exposing his muscular shoulders and sharply defined abdominals. The dark tuft of hair on his chest ran a line through the middle of his stomach, past the prominent v-shape of his groin, disappearing into the top of his trousers. His torso was covered in tattoos, including an anchor, a rose, a ship and, biggest of all, a siren, her tail wrapping around his taut waist. The inked siren had a serene smile on her face and guileless eyes.
“That’s not a very accurate depiction,” said Riella.
Her voice came out higher than usual, and she couldn’t decide where to look. Looking directly at him seemed somehow perverse, but averting her eyes might suggest she was rattled by him.
For a siren to be rattled by a man was unthinkable.
But, in truth, she was a little. With a thrill of disbelief, she understood that she was attracted to this pirate’s body. This was her first time on the other end of such a dynamic. It was attraction causing her racing heart and frozen thoughts and higher-than-usual voice.
She thought of the fishermen on their broken ship, gawping at her with mouths ajar. Now, she was no better than they were. She surreptitiously touched the bottom of her chin, to ensure her mouth wasn’t hanging open.
“An artist in Port Hyacinth tattooed it,” said Jarin. Unlike her, he did not seem rattled at all, as if he undressed in front of sirens all of the time. He didn’t, of course, but he probably bedded human women with the usual cretinous frequency pirates were known for. “You’ll have to take it up with him.”
He unbuckled his belt, casting off his cutlass. When he undid the top button of his pants, Riella hastened to speak.
“That’s enough,” she said. “Surely.”
“As you wish.”
He took a single long stride toward her, bringing him close enough to catch his scent of perspiration and leather. The guards continued their barrage, barking orders and demanding names. A scuffle seemed to have broken out as patience wore thin.
Jarin lifted Riella from the ground with his arm around her waist.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he commanded.
