Page 108 of An Imperfect Scoundrel
“In this position?”
“Exactly in this position.”
“Are you always so overbearing?”
“Be silent before I give into my cravings, Alana.” He ground himself into her soft body. “I’ll kill you at this point.”
“So, yes.”
He pressed his mouth to hers, cutting off her next sentence. Her lips parted, and she moaned, lacing her fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. Darting out, her tongue teased the tip of his, sending a spark of lightning flashing through his body.
They needed to stop.
Pulling away with a low groan, he pressed one finger to her lips.
“Roll over.”
“I thought you wanted me to face you.”
“I don’t trust either of us.”
“Killjoy.” Turning over, she winced as the healing skin stretched.
“I’ll change your bandages tomorrow morning,” he said once she stopped moving. Wrapping her in his arms, he drew himself against her body and dropped a lingering kiss on the back of her neck. She shivered. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled, his eyes closing.
A loud bang woke him.
His eyes flew open, and he sat up. He was halfway out of bed when the sound came again—knocking at the door. Sunlight crept into the cabin, crawling across the floorboards.
“Who is it?” Cedric growled, yanking his pistol from his belt.
“Hayward.”
Unlocking the door, Cedric opened it and pointed the pistol around the edge first, his eyes following. Mr. Hayward waited alone in the corridor. Gesturing for Mr. Hayward to enter, Cedric moved aside, keeping the gun aimed at the passageway.
His first mate crossed the threshold, and Cedric closed the door behind him, immediately locking it again. Mr. Hayward’s gaze slid across the room, finding Alana asleep on the bed, and returned to Cedric with an unspoken question.
“Of course not,” he said, his voice tight. “You didn’t hear anything, did you?”
“No.” Mr. Hayward cleared his throat, then lifted his chin. “Evans is missing.”
“What do you mean he’s missing?”
“No man aboard this ship has seen him since last night.”
“I want him found immediately!”
Alana woke with a scream and realizing she was alone in the bed, rolled over, her fearful blue eyes seeking him.
“Mrs. Dubois?” Mrs. Parker yelled through the wall. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Alana called back, offering Cedric an apologetic grin. “I had a bad dream.”
“Are you certain? I could come over.”
“There is no need. Captain Shaw and Mr. Hayward are already in the room.”
“Mr. Hayward is leaving,” Cedric interrupted, having strode over to the bed. “And Mrs. Dubois is going to eat some bread, then go back to sleep.” He directed the final part of the sentence to Alana.
