Page 22 of Once Charmed, Twice Cursed
I pluck the book from the floor. Just my luck that a copy of this would find its way here.
I settle back into bed with my find. Within moments, I’m aboard theDolphin of the Dawn,the sea breeze crisp in my face, my lashes stiff with salted spray. I’m so engrossed that I forget the porridge, but fortunately, a log cracks in the fireplace at the precise moment the kettle almost bubbles over. I leap to my feet and save my breakfast just in the nick of time.
Once I’ve filled my belly, I return to the book. I even shove the bedframe over a few feet so I can lie directly opposite the mystery woman. She coughs and tosses a few times, but I barely hear it, because now the heroine is mid-rendezvous with Charlie, the pirate captain who’s uncovered her secret before anyone else. He’s locked her in the captain’s quarters, and the crew outside assumes that all that shrieking is because he’s caught her stealing and is now punishing her.
That’s definitely not what’s happening.
The day slips by. I spend it on the high seas, and when I turn the last page, barely enough light slants through the window to see by.
I close the book and set it on the quilt. I can’t believe I just spent an entire day inside. I can’t believe I spent a day inbed. Reading.
Goddess, I love this place.
A chill is falling along with the dusk, and I rise to tend tothe dwindling fire. I’d expected to see Jack again by now, but when I think about it, he did say he’d come in the evening.
I wonder why. Maybe he works. Maybe he was far away today, despite saying he’d stick close enough to ensure I didn’t run.
The woman coughs again. I toss together a slapdash dinner—crusty brown bread from the cupboard and a few slices of cheese from the coldbox—and dive back into bed. The moment I do, my charge’s struggle eases.
I lie there and listen to her bedsheets rustle. When everything quiets, my mind roams. Inevitably, my thoughts land on Weston.
That dream. In it, I told him everything I long to say, the same words that forever crowd my throat and never find air. Except what he said back to me—that was real.I can’t let you waste yourself on me.
He spoke those exact words in Calder’s office.
The memory gnaws at me, quiet and relentless. For the first time since he left me in my foyer, I consider that maybe Weston’s hesitation about helping me is because of the threat he poses to my Mark. Well...that and the fact that my brother refused him. But if I wasn’t a Charm anymore, Brendan would no longer have the option of marrying me to the duke. He’d have no choice but to accept another proposal, and Weston would have no reason to keep his distance any longer. We’d be on equal footing, then.
I sit up and cram the last of the sandwich into my mouth, my mind tilting into motion like a boulder tipping downhill.
Weston may have refused to take my luck, but he’s not the only Null I can appeal to. There’s another one, right here in my hands.
A smile itches at my lips. Maybe Fortuna had a plan in mind this whole time.
As if to confirm my suspicions, the door handle turns.
When Jack walks in, he finds me grinning from my place in bed. He wears the same ensemble as yesterday, right down to the black mask. The sun has set, and only a hint of peach light coaxes a sheen from the fabric. Shadows layer the rest of him.
“What?” he says, leery. “Why’re you smiling like that?”
I rein in my expression. I probably look demented, grinning at my captor like I’ve never been so happy to see someone before.
But Iamhappy, because Jack is the answer. The solution to the thorny puzzle currently looped around my neck.
“No reason,” I say. “Except that I missed you.”
He draws a soft inhale. That might have been too much, but it’s not actually a lie. And it paves the way for me to dare bigger, bolder things.
Because I intend to leave this cabin with more than just a wild story to tell. I’m going to go with a smooth expanse of unmarked skin between my collarbones.
So is Jack.
Chapter Nine
Jack carries the bag of food he’s brought to the tiny kitchenette and sets it on the countertop. He avoids my eyes as if, in doing so, he can dodge what I just said. “Do you need anything else?” he says. “Besides milk?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Right.” He spins and makes to leave. “Then I’ll just?—”
