running his hands through his hair and squeezing out the excess water. Droplets ran a path down the front of him and he couldn’t help but notice her eyes fastened to his chest.
“You are looking handsome this morning,” she told him.
“And you are looking very smiley,” he said. “Was there something that changed your dour disposition since yesterday?”
“Nay,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant, but Ace knew she was hiding something. “I guess I just had a good night’s sleep. How about you? Did you sleep well?”
“I don’t know,” he grumbled, walking over and bending down to arrange the array of weapons on the ground that he’d brought from his ship. “I was well in my cups and don’t remember much.”
“What? So . . . you didn’t have any . . . interesting dreams?”
He looked up to her, wondering just what she meant by that. He’d had the best dream of his life, and it involved her, but he couldn’t tell her. After all, he was supposed to be ignoring her so she’d want him.
Then the horrid thought struck him that mayhap she was reading his mind again. He pushed all the thoughts of his erotic dream from his head and tried to think about Cook’s disgusting meal last night instead. It worked. His stomach wrenched and all traces of arousal diminished. He got to his feet and smiled.
“I had horrible dreams last night.”
“You did?” She seemed surprised, then a scowl crossed her face.
“Aye. I just kept dreaming about Cook’s attempt at what he called food. I don’t think I even slept a wink.”
“Oh, I think you slept a lot sounder than you realize.” She walked over to him and laid her hands atop his chest. “Sometimes our dreams become a reality,” she said in a sultry voice. Then she ran her fingers downward, stopping just above his waist.
He wanted to gather her in his embrace and throw her to the earth and rip her clothing off right now. But Juturna’s words kept echoing in his head. And the pounding in his brain from too much ale last night didn’t help matters any, either.
“Well, that’s one dream that I don’t ever want to become a reality.” He took her hands in his and dropped them and walked the other way.
“What do you mean by that, you cur?” She hurried up right behind him. She sounded angry for some reason. Hell, he’d never be able to figure out women. Or not this one, at least.
“Cook’s gruel,” he said. “I don’t ever want to eat it again.”
“Oh, that’s what you meant.” Relief seemed to wash over her face.
“Why? What did you think I meant? We were talking about my dream weren’t we?”
“I thought so, but I’m not sure any more.”
Then she reached for him again, and her mouth came just up to his lips. He felt the draw – the attraction between them, and was about to bend down and kiss her when Juturna and men walked up behind him.
He pulled away suddenly, leaving her standing there with her eyes closed and her lips pursed. Then he grabbed his tunic and threw it over his head so as not to tempt her more.
“Good morning,” said Juturna, walking up with a hunk of bread in her hand. “Ace, we missed you at the meal, but Cook sent this for you to eat so you wouldn’t starve.”
He took one look at the bread that was flat and looked harder than the hardtack of the ship. He had no doubt he’d break a tooth on it, so waved his hand in dismissal.
“No , thank you,” he said, “I have a practice to conduct. Ladies, you are welcome to stay and watch, but please don’t get in the way.”
As he walked away he heard Juturna talking to Ebba.
“What’s the matter with him?” Juturna asked. “Didn’t get a good sleep? He seems frustrated.”
“He’s not the only one,” he heard Ebba reply.
And when he turned to look at them, Ebba had grabbed the hard bread and was gnawing at it like a rat trying to chew through the ship’s rigging.
“All right, men,” said Ace, gathering them around him. “Today we’re
“You are looking handsome this morning,” she told him.
“And you are looking very smiley,” he said. “Was there something that changed your dour disposition since yesterday?”
“Nay,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant, but Ace knew she was hiding something. “I guess I just had a good night’s sleep. How about you? Did you sleep well?”
“I don’t know,” he grumbled, walking over and bending down to arrange the array of weapons on the ground that he’d brought from his ship. “I was well in my cups and don’t remember much.”
“What? So . . . you didn’t have any . . . interesting dreams?”
He looked up to her, wondering just what she meant by that. He’d had the best dream of his life, and it involved her, but he couldn’t tell her. After all, he was supposed to be ignoring her so she’d want him.
Then the horrid thought struck him that mayhap she was reading his mind again. He pushed all the thoughts of his erotic dream from his head and tried to think about Cook’s disgusting meal last night instead. It worked. His stomach wrenched and all traces of arousal diminished. He got to his feet and smiled.
“I had horrible dreams last night.”
“You did?” She seemed surprised, then a scowl crossed her face.
“Aye. I just kept dreaming about Cook’s attempt at what he called food. I don’t think I even slept a wink.”
“Oh, I think you slept a lot sounder than you realize.” She walked over to him and laid her hands atop his chest. “Sometimes our dreams become a reality,” she said in a sultry voice. Then she ran her fingers downward, stopping just above his waist.
He wanted to gather her in his embrace and throw her to the earth and rip her clothing off right now. But Juturna’s words kept echoing in his head. And the pounding in his brain from too much ale last night didn’t help matters any, either.
“Well, that’s one dream that I don’t ever want to become a reality.” He took her hands in his and dropped them and walked the other way.
“What do you mean by that, you cur?” She hurried up right behind him. She sounded angry for some reason. Hell, he’d never be able to figure out women. Or not this one, at least.
“Cook’s gruel,” he said. “I don’t ever want to eat it again.”
“Oh, that’s what you meant.” Relief seemed to wash over her face.
“Why? What did you think I meant? We were talking about my dream weren’t we?”
“I thought so, but I’m not sure any more.”
Then she reached for him again, and her mouth came just up to his lips. He felt the draw – the attraction between them, and was about to bend down and kiss her when Juturna and men walked up behind him.
He pulled away suddenly, leaving her standing there with her eyes closed and her lips pursed. Then he grabbed his tunic and threw it over his head so as not to tempt her more.
“Good morning,” said Juturna, walking up with a hunk of bread in her hand. “Ace, we missed you at the meal, but Cook sent this for you to eat so you wouldn’t starve.”
He took one look at the bread that was flat and looked harder than the hardtack of the ship. He had no doubt he’d break a tooth on it, so waved his hand in dismissal.
“No , thank you,” he said, “I have a practice to conduct. Ladies, you are welcome to stay and watch, but please don’t get in the way.”
As he walked away he heard Juturna talking to Ebba.
“What’s the matter with him?” Juturna asked. “Didn’t get a good sleep? He seems frustrated.”
“He’s not the only one,” he heard Ebba reply.
And when he turned to look at them, Ebba had grabbed the hard bread and was gnawing at it like a rat trying to chew through the ship’s rigging.
“All right, men,” said Ace, gathering them around him. “Today we’re
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