Page 46 of The Last Lost Girl

I turn to Hook and Smee. “The Ropes?”

Hook’s lips thin until they blanch. He touches the tip of his canine with his tongue, then smiles as he shakes his head like he might throttle Paris if he hadn’t just sauntered away.

Smee cuts in with a nervous stutter. “Don’t listen to Paris. The Ropes is no place you’d want to be, Ava.”

Hook adds a condescending laugh. “It’s not to your taste, Lifeguard.”

“Ava,” I correct. “And you barely know me. How could you possibly know it’s not to my taste?”

How does this man keep managing to crawl under my skin every time he opens his mouth? I’m getting incredibly tired of everyone telling me where I don’t belong. Assuming what I will and won’t like. Giving their opinions on what I should and shouldn’t do.

Smoothly, the captain moves toward me. “Then I’ll take you there,” Hook says with challenge glinting in his eyes. “As soon as Smee and I are through with our task.”

I shrug one shoulder. “Fine.”

Smee catches his arm as Hook starts to walk away. “That’s not a good idea.”

Hook steps closer, his movements lithe and completely silent over the planks beneath us. “She wants to see The Ropes, Smee,” Hook smirks. His countenance darkens. “Or maybe it’s Paris she wants to find. The two seem very friendly.”

I smile brightly, refusing to let him goad me. I certainly don’t deny what he said. And I beam when his lips thin in irritation again. It seems I can easily get under his skin, too.

“We’re wasting time,” Smee interrupts, pushing Hook back from me.

“You’re right,” Hook tells Smee, though he continues to stare at me.

“Agreed. And since you have things to do, I’ll find The Ropes myself. We sail at sunrise, correct?” I confirm, ready to leave them and go exploring the town.

Hook’s dark laughter reminds me of what he did to Wraith. “Precious, if you think I’m letting you out of my sight, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“I’ll be back before dawn,” I promise. Probably way, way before dawn. But I would hate myself if I got the chance to explore a city built on the sea and didn’t take it.

“Forgive me if I don’t trust you,” the pirate drawls.

“Are you making me your new figurehead?” I hiss, anger heating my skin.

His dark brows turn into sharp slashes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I thrust a hand toward the bow. “You might not have me pinned to your ship, but you’re restraining me all the same.” I look down at my stomach and press here and there.

“What are you doing?”

“I feel the nails. I just wondered if I could see their heads.”

He hisses, “If you remain close to me, I can keep you safe.”

“Not for my benefit,” I snip, which makes Smee groan. “Or because it’s the right and decent thing to do.”

“No, Ava.” Hook bends until his breath fans my ear. “And you should know I thank my lucky stars that decent is not a word anyone would use to describe me.” I start to step away, but his fingers curl gently around my bicep like an anchor holding a ship to the sea floor. “We’re allies,” he reminds me.

“I know, Hook. And I’m grateful, but I want to feel like your equal. I don’t want to be kept as your prisoner.”

“You’re not,” he claims. “But it’s dangerous to wander here when you don’t know where you are, especially when you don’t have a shadow.”

He thinks I’ll get lost. He’s either worried or he’s lying. I can’t tell which.

Our chests rise and fall as though dancing, like his ship moves against the waves. Not in unison, but in perfect complement to one another. His rises when mine shrinks. Mine heaves as his recedes. And amid the flow, a storm builds between us. An energy begins to crackle. Electric and hungry.

He relaxes his grip on my arm, but he doesn’t let me go. I notice how large his hand is, how warm and rough it is on my smooth skin. The way the moonlight limns his features, his face, and the sleek, strong column of his throat.

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