Page 166 of Seven Oars
Rosamma cringed.“I agree, it wasn’t one of my most intelligent moments. Luckily, he recovered in time.”
“He didn’t, Rosamma,” Fincros said succinctly.“He was still out cold when I came back.”
She gaped at him.“Youtook the bag off me?”
He made a move with one shoulder as if pushing the issue aside.
“Then, Phex forced himself on a female who didn’t consent.”
Rosamma’s mouth fell open.“Now, that was on you! And your vile people.”
“Details don’t matter,” he said, unfazed.“Still lost.”
“You’re… You’re…” Words failed her.
“Callous?” he supplied.
Eyes wide, she nodded.
“I am. But here’s the truth.”
He took a step toward her.“There was nothing I could’ve done to stop myvile people. The game was on, and if I tried, it would’ve been me with a face full of spice charm, grinding against Sassa.”He straightened away from her.“Knowing when to disengage is a skill I had to learn the hard way. Phex will, too.”
Rosamma was flabbergasted.
“Are you teaching him some kind of lesson by torturing him?”
“I’ve never tortured him,” he countered, and, before she had a chance to object, added,“Beatings aren’t torture.”
Her shoulders slumped.
Foolishly, she’d created an illusion of Fincros the Good Pirate. Which, in all fairness, he had warned her not to do.
“You are not seeing what I see,” he said, suddenly gentle.“Phex’s biggest failure as a defender was allowing you to be captured. He knows it. That’s why he’d much rather I killed him.”
“Why didn’t you?” she whispered.
He hesitated, as if weighing the wisdom of telling her.“He’s a trained, ranking space pilot of the most powerful fleet in the Universe. As a resource, he’s invaluable. He just needed to be broken in first.”
His face was inscrutable, and it felt like the before. Like she’d never felt his body move inside of hers. Like she’d never known him to be anything but a violent, scarred pirate.
He is a violent, scarred pirate.
She rose to her feet, agitated. The cursed headache began ringing a tinny warning bell inside her head.
“Why does it have to be this way? Why are you living this life?”
He stood before her with shoulders straight and legs slightly apart. A warrior—but of the worst kind.
“That’s the only life I have.”
Abruptly, it hit her—she was still naked.
Before she had a chance to snatch up her clothes, Fincros grasped her wrists and pulled her arms apart like wings. She felt his gaze scrutinizing every small, intimate detail of her.
She had a smattering of pale brown freckles underneath her right breast, the only spot of color.
She wished he’d say something.
