Page 86 of A Prince Among Pirates
The silence that follows lasts so long, I’m quite sure I hallucinated his voice altogether—and then my bed creaks, and I see the familiar worn leather of his boots emerge from the curtains to land almost silently on the plush fur rug that stretches under my bed.
A million different responses are born and die on my tongue as I stare across the room at the ghost of Captain Reggie Sharpe, back from the dead andhere in my bedroom. In the end, my response to his astonishing reappearance into my life is, “You had your boots on in my bed?”
This startles a laugh out of him, and he steps towards me—but I beat him to it. His single step forward unlocks my feet fromthe floor, and I run across the room and throw myself into his arms with such force that he stumbles back. I hear him utter a breathless “oof” as his back collides with the solid oak post of my bed, but then his arms are around me, and I can’t hold in the tears for a moment longer.
I sob into his shirt, and he holds me against him, the familiar expanse of his hands sliding up and down my back. He lets me take my time, and though it feels like forever before my breathing evens out to match his own, I’m sure it’s been only a matter of minutes. He presses a kiss to my ear, and the rasp of stubble against my cheek sends hot chills sparking up my spine.
“I thought you were dead,” I whisper into his shirt.
“I’m far too stubborn to die,” he murmurs into my ear, and then he pushes me back just enough to get me to look up at him. He’s smiling, while I’m quite sure I have snot running down my face.
He touches my cheek, his thumb brushing away a few tears as he stares down at me. “You’re all right, Kitten,” he murmurs, and I believe him. I nod, because I can’t answer or I’ll start to cry all over again. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he draws me close once more, tipping his head down—but not quite far enough.
I have to lean up to catch his mouth, but then we are kissing, and Iknowthat I will be all right, because he ishere, and he isalive, and he is in my arms.
And then he breaks the kiss and lifts me up. I don’t argue. He sets me onto my bed and sinks onto the mattress beside me, hands sliding down to settle on my hips.
“You look like a regular fop, Your Highness,” he says as his lips twist up into an amused smirk.
My face goes hot, and I reach up to pull the wig off. “I had to wear it,” I mutter, and he laughs softly as he takes the wig from my hands and drops it onto the floor.
“It suits you better than you think.”
“Don’t say that,” I whisper—because as much as Iwantedit to suit me just a few hours ago, in this moment I want nothing more than to just beKitagain, making terrible decisions and waking up beside him every morning.
“Would you rather I lied to you?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He laughs again and shakes his head before leaning in to rest it against my shoulder. I wrap my arms around him once more and touch the familiar blue silk ribbon tying his locs back.
“How are you alive?” I ask.
“Captain Hale was more interested in you than us,” Sharpe explains softly, letting me stroke his hair as he rests his weight against me. “He crippled the ship so we couldn’t follow and left with his prize.”
“Tristan?” I whisper.
He lifts his head with a confused expression. “What about him?”
“He went up into the rigging and never came down.”
Sharpe blinks at me, and then his mouth spreads into a grin and he chuckles. “The little shit stayed up in the rigging until we were alone in the water. He’s all right, Kitten.”
I let out a trembling breath and reach up to cover my face with my hands. “I’ve thought… this whole time… I was so sure…”
Sharpe puts his hands over mine and pulls them down so he can see my face. “Everyone is all right. We were in Portsmouth assessing the damage to the ship when I heard the rumors about the king’s new bastard in the palace.”
“And you just assumed it was me?” I ask. What an insane scheme, to come sneaking into Kensington Palace on the off chance it might be me in these apartments.
“Is there another Christopher-Henry Davenport at court?”
I chuckle and shake my head. “It’s Stuart now,” I say.
He whistles. “Stuart,” he says. “You’ve certainly come up in the world, haven’t you, Kitten?”
His words, which were likely only meant as a jest, strike a chord in me. It wasn’t my intention to rise so high, nor my desire… but now that I have it, now that I have my father and hewantsme, I don’t know what to do.
“How did you get in here?” I deflect.
