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A glimmer of a smile illuminated his face, a sliver of white teeth, and before I knew it, I was hypnotized, watching two curtains of black lashes lift in slow motion.
At the first flash of gray, I slammed my eyes shut, breathing heavily from that close call. Then, I felt his warm lips close around my fingertips, and I stopped breathing altogether.
But soon they were gone, along with my offering, and the sound that rumbled in the back of his throat made my empty stomach flutter.
“Good?” I smiled, dropping my gaze to the shellfish in my hands. Then, I pulled off another piece and popped it into my own mouth just to give myself something to do other than watch his square, stubble-covered jaw flex as he chewed.
“Mmhmm.” Those two syllables hung in the air like sunshine, warming me from the inside out.
“That was almost a word.” I smiled as I offered him another piece, keeping my gaze fixed solely on the shellfish in my lap. I could feel his eyes on me, and my cheeks flushed under this stare.
His teeth grazed the soft pad of my finger.
I could tell from his energy that one almost word would not be enough to ease his pain. I only wished I knew which kind of pain he was in. Physical or emotional.
“Are you sad about the people you lost … on the boat?” I lifted my chin toward the bow of his warship, protruding from the sea like a giant steel shark fin.
He shook his head.
“No?” I asked in surprise.
No.
I held another morsel out for him and felt the warmth of his gaze as it roamed over my body. First my face, then my lap where his jacket had fallen, then my bare legs. I held my breath as he reached toward my thigh but released it a moment later when nothing happened. Looking down, I saw that he was pointing at a particularly deep gash in a sea of cuts and bruises and puncture wounds.
“Oh, that? I, em, took a tumble down the cliff a few days ago.”
His lips closed around a bite of food that I’d forgotten I was holding out, and my breath hitched in my throat.
“I went out to look for better shelter, or supplies, whatever I could find, but … a drone found me first.”
His whole body stiffened. He knew about the drones too.
Because he was one of the arseholes who’d brought them here.
My stomach soured.
Glancing down at the hand that had just been dangerously close to touching me, I placed what was left of his lobster in it and drew my knees up to my chest.
He hadn’t been staring out at that water, thinking about the people he’d lost—he’d said so himself. He’d probably been thinking about the people he’d left behind. Back in Russia.
This man is not your friend, I reminded myself.
He is not like you.
His family’s still alive.
And yours isn’t because of him.
Setting my untouched lobster aside, I shook out his jacket and folded the torn, bloodstained material into a square, making sure to drape the sleeve with the Russian flag patch over the top.
“You miss home, don’t ya?” I asked, my voice cold and sharp.
After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded slowly.
“Yeah.” I stood up. “Me too.”
Then, I dropped his jacket on the ground next to him and turned to walk away.
