s soon the bolt was removed, Evie scurried across the room and stood as still as a statue. Garson entered to find her staring at him with frightened eyes. He closed the door and went to the table to sit.

 "Come here," he said in a gentle tone.

 She gulped down the burning lump in her throat and tried to force her legs to move.

 "I'm not angry," he assured her. "Come here. I have something for you."

 She chewed her bottom lip as she cautiously sat across the table from him.

 "I'm sorry," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.

 "You have nothing to apologize for. You didn't do anything wrong," he told her as he reached into his coat. "I wasn't angry then and I'm not angry now."

 She watched him place a bundle of white cloth onto the table and looked at him in confusion.

 "It's best for you if they come to see you as a friend rather than another high and mighty aristocrat looking down on them," he explained. "Touching that man's bloodied and dirty hands to care for his wounds will shift the winds in your favor.

 Even if he didn't care, others who watched did. I saw it on their faces after I scolded you. If they were brave enough, they may have even spoken up in your defense."

 He poured her a cup of tea that had grown cold before he continued.

 "That isn't to say they can be trusted," he warned. "It's just a bit of a push in that direction."

 "You scolded me so they would pity me?" she asked.

 "I did," he answered. "I'm sorry for frightening you."

 She blinked a few times at his apology.

 "Won't they be angry if they find out it was a lie?" she worried.

 It seemed he had protected her again. She screamed inwardly to stop her absurd notions. None of it meant he had feelings for her other than what she could do for him as a woman.

 She cleared her throat and took a sip of the tea, grimacing at its taste. She forced herself another sip, learning in the last few days that fresh water, no matter how it came, was precious and not to be wasted.

 "What I did doesn't change what you did," he explained. "They care about that the most.

 Here," he said as he pushed the bundle toward her. "I found it among the other clothes before I came. I thought you'd be more comfortable at night with this."

 She set the cup aside and unfolded the clothes. She breathed in wonder over the beautiful silk and lace nightgown. He smiled as she stood and brought it to the mirror, where she held it in front of her and smiled at her reflection.

 "It's beautiful," she remarked excitedly.

 "I'm sure it isn't as nice as what you're used to," he told her, leaning back in the chair to watch her glee. "It's better than those stained underthings and men's trousers."

 "Oh, no," she replied as she shook her head. "I've never had anything so exquisite. My clothes once belonged to Edgar's sister, Audrey. She died of influenza before I moved into Uncle's manor. She was twenty and a little larger than me. That's why her clothes were always big, but not too big that a sash wouldn't help. She was shapely, as Edgar's friends called her. They were fond of her. Not so much of me."

 He watched as her smile fell a little at the memories of her family. Once again, he was made curious about her uncle and her living arrangements.

 "I'll turn around so you can dress for bed," he told her.

 She watched as he turned, then quickly changed clothes. When she looked into the mirror again, she almost cried. She believed she looked pretty, but she wondered what he would think.

 Garson turned when she grew quiet and watched her spin in front of the mirror with a bright, beautiful smile. She saw the reflection of him staring and she turned to face him.

 "It's so pretty," she said. "I almost feel as though I don't deserve it. It seems fit for a true lady or even a princess."

 She suddenly stopped and stared at him, then clasped her hands over her mouth as she gasped.

 "All these clothes," she said in a low, worried voice. "Are they ... did the previous owners ... did they die?"

 He sighed and grinned at her concern as he went to her.

 "As far as I know, they're alive and well," he replied as he faced her toward the mirror. He ran his hands over her hair and straightened it down her back as he spoke. "The clothes I've found for you come from crates and trunks offered to us by passing ships. We occasionally encounter travelers who've heard of us and want no trouble, so they hand over their goods in hopes we won't attack."

 He turned her to face him again and rested his hands on her shoulders.

 "And you're deserving of even nicer clothes than this," he said warmly.

 He placed his hand on her back and led her to the bed, where he guided her to sit.

 "Are you hurting?" he knowingly asked.

 He was curious if she would admit she was healed or lie so he would touch her again. If she lied, he would take her further than the night before.

 Evie swallowed her guilt as she gave a faint nod. She decided if she was to be captive on this ship and had to fend for herself, she may as well enjoy nice things when she could.

 Garson grinned and helped her lay on her back. He didn't bother grabbing the jar he knew she didn't need. He sat on the edge of the bed and pushed the nightgown over her knees and up to her waist.

 Evie stared at the ceiling as she'd done every night he applied the medicine. She waited to feel his touch, and she shut her eyes in relief when she did.

🌺 As his fingers slid across her flesh, she realized something was different. She had felt the change the night before, as well, but she assumed it was the guilt over allowing him such liberties. No, it was definitely different than she had felt when he applied the medicine.

🌺 She could feel his fingers as they explored every bit of her, and that's when she knew what it was. There was a feeling of wetness, but it wasn't from the ointment. The medicine would slightly numb her so she wouldn't feel pain. She could feel the pressure of his fingers applying it, but she couldn't feel his touch. Now, she could, and she could the night before, too.

🌺 She quickly glanced to the side of the bed and saw the jar of medicine still there. She gasped and covered her mouth with the blanket so he wouldn't hear. She stared with wide eyes at the ceiling as his fingers gently glided over her. Had he known she was tricking him the night before? He obviously knew it just then.

🌺 She felt him move onto the bed, and suddenly, something soft and wet moved against her. She gasped and looked down. His head was between her thighs, and she realized what she felt was his tongue.

🌺 She didn't know what to do. Her head sank back onto the pillow and she covered her mouth with the blanket so he wouldn't hear her surprised whimpers. She tried to calm her breathing, but the more he licked and kissed her, the more difficult it became.

🌺 Her legs tightened as her toes curled against the bed. She had felt similar the night before. That odd sensation where he licked and from inside had returned and was growing stronger.

🌺 Try as she could to conceal it, a moan escaped from beneath the blanket. She squeezed her eyes shut and could feel her cheeks burn from the embarrassment.

🌺 Garson continued to lick around her opening and suck on her swollen little nub. Her hips would move against him, then suddenly stop as she tried her best to stay still. He slid his tongue in and out and grinned when he heard a moan, followed by a gasp. As her opening started pulsing, he licked up everything that flowed out. He caught her legs as her knees started to fall over from exhaustion.

 After gently laying them down onto the mattress, he sat up and removed his boots. Evie watched him stand to remove his clothes, and she looked away in shame. She took a deep breath as her body finally calmed itself.

 When he slid under the blankets without his bed clothes, she gasped and tried to move away.

 "I won't hurt you," he said calmly and pulled her close.

 She held her hands together in front of her chest as he turned her face toward him. He bent down to softly kiss her, and she squeezed her eyes shut as their lips touched. As she relaxed against him, he moved his hand from her face to stroke her arm. His other arm slid beneath her to hold her.

 Her body sank into his embrace, her expression softening as her first kiss made the world disappear. She wanted to be this way forever. There was no denying any longer what was in her heart.

 When he finally pulled away, she slowly opened her eyes to look up at him. She glanced down when he smiled at her. She looked across his shoulders and arms as her hands carefully pressed against his firm chest. There were scars in some places over his tanned skin and peeking out from the hair growing there. His muscles flexed and moved as he raised his arm to brush the hair from her face.

 She paid close attention as his hand moved down her arm and slid up again in a caring caress.

 "How did you know I was healed?" she whispered, trying not to let him hear the longing in her voice.

 "When I was about to use the medicine on you last night," he admitted. "I could see for myself it was better."

 "You aren't angry?" she worried.

 "Why would I be angry?" he asked. "I understood it was something you wanted but were too shy to ask, or maybe too afraid.

 You no longer have to be afraid of me, Evie, and you don't have to be shy about anything. Say what you wish and do what you wish. I'm the last person who would ever judge you."

 She looked up into his deep blue eye. It reflected the stars shining in through the window. His white one reflected her blushing expression, and she looked down so he wouldn't see.

 "Why did you do that?" he asked as she lifted her hands to her face. "Don't hide from me," he said and gently pulled her hands down. "What did I just say? Hmm?"

 "I don't think it's proper," she whispered, still looking away.

 "What isn't proper?" he wondered.

 He caressed her arm again as he waited for her to speak. His fingers slid across her forearm covered in the long sleeve of the gown. He slowly moved his hand so that he could gently caress her breast through the cool silk.

 "This," she whispered as she gasped nervously.

 "And why might that be?" he asked with a kiss to her cheek.

 He rested his hand on her waist and moved closer to kiss her other cheek.

 "We're not married," she said.

 Garson gave a short laugh.

 "Would that make a difference?" he asked.

 Even as he mocked her, he wondered about it, himself. She would certainly be safer as his wife, but did she deserve having that burden placed on her? Until he could get her off of his ship, he had to keep her safe, but marriage would be extreme.

 He wanted to enjoy the time he could spend with the one person in his life who gave him comfort and joy. He wanted to imagine for just a little while that he could have the love of a woman, even one he didn't deserve. There was something selfish lurking in the shallow end of his mind that quickly settled on the idea.

 "It should, shouldn't it?" she asked in surprise of his flippant attitude about carnal acts.

 "We've already consummated," he reminded her with a bit of a more serious tone. "As awful and regrettable as it was for us both, it happened. I would say that makes us husband and wife."

 She stared up at him when he mentioned something she hadn't thought of. In the old times and even in the present with older families, a marriage was only valid if the bride and groom consummated.

 It was all like a wedding, if she really thought about it. Her cousin walked her down the gangplank and handed her off to the pirate, who declared to his crew that she was his and then took her to bed soon after.

 "Should I call you my wife so you know I mean it?" he asked, his hand sliding up again toward her breast.

 "Do you?" she asked. "Mean it, I mean. Do you really mean to say that I'm your wife and you're my husband?"

 She considered it and though she didn't want to be forced to live out her days on this ship, being his wife might keep her safe and more.

 His touches were slow and tender, and his kisses were endearing. She wanted to lose herself in the moment, even allow herself to believe it might be more than lust to him, but she was afraid of what had happened the first time. She was afraid of falling in love with him only to be reminded in a terrible way of what he was and where she was.

 She gasped as his large hand cupped her breast. Her hand quickly went over it to still his movements as he gently squeezed and caressed it.

 "I told you I won't hurt you," he reminded her. "I meant it. I intend to do more to you tonight than what I've done these last two nights. I intend to make up for that first time. If this isn't something you want, tell me now. Once I begin, I won't stop."

 She grasped his arms as his hand squeezed her breast again. She felt his thumb through the thin material as it passed over her nipple, and it made her jerk at the sensation.

 "What if it hurts?" she whispered and moved closer. "Will you stop if it hurts?"

 He kissed her cheek and chin, down to her neck and throat as his fingers moved to the ribbon holding the gown's neckline together.

 "I'll stop if it's too much," he promised in a raspy, deep whisper.