Page 51 of The Last Lost Girl

My hand darts toward her and I curl my fingers around the soft cord she’s clutching. I look over my shoulder at Hook, not for his input, but to watch his eyes flare when I say, “Don’t be silly.” I wink at her. “We’d love a table with a little extra privacy, if you have one.”

“Of course!” she says, a hint of jealousy in her tone. “Right this way.”

Hook lets the door drift slowly closed as I trail after the woman. A whisper later, I feel his warmth at my back again.

I can tie my shoes. Double knot them like a boss. But I’ve never tied a rope.

It can’t be all that different, can it?

There’s no time like the present for learning a new skill because I’m not letting him tie me up.

The table she shows us to isn’t far from Paris’s, who wiggles his fingers at me as the redhead he’s trussed tries to squirm closer to him. He lifts a cup to her mouth and tips it to give her a sip.

The server promises to return as quickly as she can and scurries away.

Hook watches me with a hooded stare as I approach him with the cord. He keeps quiet as I push his sleeves to his elbows, position his forearms together, and begin winding the rope around them. I knot the ends as best I can, but even a fool would realize that if the pirate wanted out of them, he could eviscerate them faster than I could blink.

His gaze glitters. “Now that I’m completely at your mercy, what do you intend to do with me?”

His arrogance knows no bounds, and neither does his sarcasm.

“Now, we’re going to enjoy an immodest dinner together,” I quip, holding his chair out.

He doesn’t take the seat I offer. Instead, he walks to the one beside it and hooks the chairback, holding it out for me. His expression dares me to refuse him. I roll my eyes and lower into the chair. He sits beside me and twists his arms to examine the amateur knots I’ve made, laughing out loud.

“You saw me make the knots and didn’t cackle at them then,” I grouse, tapping a rhythm on the tabletop.

“I was watching you, not watching… whatever this is.”

The loops are so loose he could easily slip out of them. I mutter a curse, assuming he’ll do just that. But he doesn’t.

When the server returns, she aims all her questions at Hook and refuses to even acknowledge my presence. She also toys with her hair and traces the seam of her bodice, hoping to draw his eye.

“What can I get you to drink?” she asks Hook, never looking in my direction.

So, of course, I answer her before he can. “What’s the best drink you offer?”

She glances uncomfortably at Hook and clears her throat. “Fairy wine.”

I wonder how potent the drink is, given her unease. I just need Hook to drink enough to loosen his tongue, but I need to be careful not to give him too much. He needs his wits in the morning when we go ashore. “We’ll each have a glass,” I tell her.

She flicks a glance at Hook, who merely nods.

Is fairy wine expensive? I probably should have asked before assuming he would foot the bill for it.

She prattles off all their food options to the captain, who nods in my direction, forcing the woman to consult me instead. I meet her frown with a smile and order. “Stew, bread, and a tray of fruit, please.”

Facing Hook again, she bows so low I worry her breasts will tumble out of her dress. To her chagrin, Hook isn’t looking at her. He’s staring at me.

Until now, I’ve mostly been invisible. No one has ever looked at me like he does.

His gaze doesn’t falter when the woman returns with two stemmed glasses, when I thank her, or when she promises to be right back with our food.

I drag a glass across the table until it rests before him, then do the same to mine. The wine inside is a lovely shade of lavender, and even from a distance it smells strongly of flowers and oak.

So many people are watching us. Hook acts oblivious, but I know he’s not. He’s too astute to be anything but aware. He’s probably memorized all who are present, where they’re seated, the exits, and a host of things I’d never even think about. “Would you like a sip?” I ask Hook.

His tongue wets his lips. “It would be a pity to waste it.”

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