“Of course.” Conversations with the scarred man were like talking to a child running in circles around your legs: twisted, but oddly amusing. “Five days, right?”
“Right. I’ll think of something to get you home between now and then.”
I wanted to believe him, but just nodded glumly. Lucas picked up the book off the bed, leafing through the pages. “Good choice,” he said. “There’s a lot of practical knowledge in here that doesn’t have to apply to war only.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, taking the book away from him and staring at it in my hands.
“All warfare is based on deception.” His finger under my chin brought my head up to look at him. “Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak. The art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.”
By the third sentence I realized he was quoting the book. “Supreme excellence consists of breaking the enemy’s resistance without fighting,” Lucas continued, his tone soft. Those blue-green eyes dipped lower, looking at my mouth. “All is fair in love and war.”
“To know your enemy, you must become your enemy.”
Lucas blinked at my quote, then looked back up into my eyes. A smile, probably the most honest I’d seen on his face, creased his lips. “Very true.”
Suddenly shy, I broke off our gaze and rolled sideways off the bed. “Thank you for bringing me dinner.” I was careful to keep the bed between the two of us.
“No problem. Get some rest, and I’ll see you in the morning.” He winked. “Don’t wait up for me.”
My eyes grew wide in alarm as Lucas, whistling now, moved over toward the door. “Sleep tight,” he added, smirking, before letting himself out.
I puffed out a breath, exasperated. Men. Pushing the clothes to the ground in a heap beside the bed, I flopped back onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling. I wasn’t the least bit tired, but I still pulled the comforter over me, grabbing the book and thumbing back to my place. This is going to be a long week.
CHAPTER 3
There was no light from within the windowless room when I awoke, save for the dim glow from a nearby nightlight. The bed bobbed and swayed beneath me, reminding me via a suddenly queasy stomach that I was aboard a ship. I flopped an arm sideways and was relieved to find myself alone in the bed.
Pulling the sheets from my body, I paused when I heard a faint snort coming from the middle of the room. Crawling quietly across the bed, I peeked over the edge and saw Lucas lying on the ground, fast asleep. The dim light still managed to outline his shape and I bit my lip to keep from smiling. The man was lying spread-eagle on the floor, taking up as much space as he could. The blankets he had used for cover and padding were twisted around his slim body, and from the amount of skin showing… Blushing, I rolled over in the bed, not wanting to discover whether he really was as naked as he looked.
I waited a moment before pulling the sheets from around my body, moving as quietly as I could out of bed and onto my feet. Grabbing the entire pile of clothing on the floor, I tiptoed around the dark man’s prone form. The thin carpet was cool, the creaking of my footsteps blending in with the rest of the ship’s noises. I breathed a sigh of relief when I locked myself inside the bathroom and quickly changed clothes, washing my face and pulling my frazzled hair back into a quick ponytail. Peeking out of the bathroom, I moved as quietly as I could toward the door, slipping into my shoes and a wool pea coat, then snuck out of the bedroom.
There wasn’t a soul in sight, and I let out a relieved breath. From far below I heard someone cough, and there was a low din of voices coming from nearby. I tentatively made my way along the metal ground, moving toward the voices. The last room door was open, and as I poked my head inside all talking ceased. A roomful of large men stared at me.
Cafeteria, my mind registered, but the rest of me froze. I tried to speak but nothing would come out, so I just waved. That seemed to break the silence, and they turned back to their meals as I pulled my head back out of the doorway. Lucy, I thought, you are such a ninny.
Deciding against going downstairs, I headed towards the upper deck and had to push hard against the door to get it to open. Grey clouds covered the sun, so I had no idea what time I’d awoken. The wind blew across the deck something fierce, the deck beneath my feet bucking and diving. Ocean spray filled the air, covering me with a fine layer of mist within seconds. Pulling my coat tight around me, I held tightly to the thin railing alongside the ship, watching the ocean heave around me. I’d grabbed another seasickness tab earlier in the bathroom and was glad I took the added precaution. My stomach didn’t like the rolling seas all that much, but otherwise I thought the whole thing fantastic.
I was the only one foolish enough to be outside this early in the morning. While that meant I had the deck to myself, I could also understand why everyone else preferred to stay inside as the cold penetrated my thick coat. Looking around, I noticed another entrance atop the deck and, staying close to the walls, made my way to the door. Pulling it open, I got a draft of warm air across my frozen nose, and quickly hustled inside. The steps here led upwards, and I climbed them hesitantly, peeking to see who was inside.
Smoky air filled the narrow cabin, the telltale smell of tobacco letting me know I wasn’t alone. Voices mumbled overhead, and I poked my head above floor level to see two men sitting in stools bolted to the floor, looking out of windows lining the dash. I recognized the captain from yesterday, but not the man beside him. Both had the same look about them, gruff and weatherworn, but neither exuded the danger of the men I’d seen below.
“Well, lookit what the cat drug in.”
I ducked my head, giving a shy wave as both men turned in their seats to look at me. The captain gestured for me to come up. “Well don’t just stand there,” he continued, old face wrinkling in a smile. “I promise ya, we don’t bite.”
“I used to,” the man beside the captain said, then gave me a gap-toothed grin. “But I’ve already lost most of the worst offenders.”
The captain gave the other man a slap upside the head, eliciting an amused squawk. Biting my lip to keep from smiling, I climbed the remaining stairs and into the captain’s area. From my new position, I saw a fold out table sitting between them, with pennies sitting in a wide bowl at the center. The ship listed side to side more up here than down in my room, and I held on to the thick railing beside the stairs.
The captain held out his hand. “Seth Matthews,” he said in a gruff voice as I stepped forward, “although nobody calls me by my first name.” He jerked a thumb toward the other man. “This rowdy ass is my first mate, Francis Buttercup.”