The first thing Isla noticed when she awoke the next morning was that her head hurt, but not nearly as badly as when she’d drifted off into oblivion.
She sat up carefully, noting the window covering had been secured at some point in the night and muted the morning light, which helped. She exhaled carefully, slowly, and took stock.
Tingling, blue limbs? Yes.
Fuzzy head? Yes.
Sensation akin to being underwater? Yes.
Normal morning, then.
She was grateful she’d managed to get Daniel’s tea into her system before she’d fallen asleep, or her head would be hurting so violently she’d have pleaded for death. The one other time such a thing had happened, she’d been in bed for two days. She spied her corset on the table and her boots on the floor. Humiliating, really, that she’d needed help like a child. Another offense she laid at Melody’s feet. Her lips tightened as she eased from the bed and stretched, shaking her hands and feet, and noting she was wobblier on her feet than normal.
She made her way to the dry sink, bracing herself for the splash of cold water, but as she lifted it, was surprised to find the ceramic was warm. Daniel must have filled it with heated water, and she poured it gratefully into the matching ceramic basin.
Her morning routine was pleasant, and she wasn’t certain if the reason was due to the warm water or the kindness behind the gesture. Daniel had gone beyond anything she’d expected last night, caring for her and watching over her. She blushed as she changed into fresh clothes, torn between wanting to find him immediately to thank him and staying in her cabin to avoid him altogether. As she folded her shirt, she noticed a smear of red on the shoulder and frowned. Had she cut herself yesterday and not realized it? She examined her shoulder and saw nothing. She decided it must not have been too heinous of an incident if there wasn’t much blood and she’d not been hurt.
She set the shirt aside. She was comfortable in clean breeches with her hair braided loosely over her shoulder. She smiled, remembering the conversation about her hair, of all things, and now that she examined their exchange with a clearer head, she realized how well Daniel had tried to distract her from her painful headache. She waited for the blue tinge to fade from her skin and then left her cabin. She wanted to see how Lewis had fared overnight.
She smelled coffee and cinnamon scones as she neared the wardroom and was pleased to see Lewis seated with Mr. Bonadea and Daniel. They stood when she entered, and she waved her hellos, stopping at the sideboard for a bracing cup of tea before selecting the vacant chair next to Lewis.
“How are you this morning?” She left the question deliberately vague as she didn’t know how much Lewis had told Mr. Bonadea. “You mentioned feeling under the weather last night.”
He cracked a half-smile. “He knows. I also told Quince. And I am feeling well—very well, in fact.” He glanced at the doorway. “I awoke in the early morning hours aware that I was beginning to shift again. The most amazing thing happened, however—I was able to reverse the situation on my own. My symptoms stopped, and my head was perfectly clear.”
“That is wonderful news!” She smiled in delight and tried to keep her voice down. “I wish I could confer with my friend right now. He’ll be so pleased to hear of your success. The implications could be staggering.”
Daniel nodded, albeit slowly. “What you did was truly remarkable.”
She frowned. “But?”
“I am concerned that you will believe you ought to be able to do it all the time, now.”
She glanced at the doorway and lowered her voice. “There’s every possibility we could use this technique on all three of our guests”—she nodded toward Mr. Bonadea—“and need not stop before reaching Port Lucy.” Even as she said the words, she realized the naiveté of the thought.
“Except we do not know if the method would work on a shifter in the actual Full Moon Phase.” Mr. Bonadea spoke quietly and with regret, as though he didn’t want to dampen her optimism. “Lewis’s condition was atypical.”
“You’re right. Of course.” She bit her lip, thinking. “To halt the process when it shouldn’t be happening is one thing, but preventing the natural course of things may prove harmful.”
Lewis rested his forearms on the table. “That said, what you were able to do for me was nothing short of miraculous. I am eternally in your debt. The repercussions for all of us could have been disastrous if I’d been unable to prevent the transformation.”
Isla smiled. “We can repeat the process again, if necessary. But we land today, yes?”
Daniel nodded. “In five hours.”
The unscheduled stop was not ideal for her, but safer for the whole. She would simply redouble her efforts to locate Malette once they reached Port Lucy.
The small group finished breakfast, and Bonadea and Lewis left the wardroom. Daniel and Isla remained at the table, and she eyed him over her teacup. His expression was inscrutable.
He sat back in his chair, one arm resting on the table and fingers spinning a fountain pen in place. “You cannot do that again.”
She didn’t bother feigning innocence. “I am fully recovered, as you can see. And thank you for the hot water, incidentally.” She smiled, but he didn’t return it.
“Isla, you seem to suffer under the delusion that it is your job to save the world. The personal cost will one day catch you, and . . .” He held her attention. “You did not see yourself last night. Keeping Lewis from shifting drained everything you had.”
“We didn’t have much choice, short of tranquilizing him, and we know the dangers of that.”
His eyes narrowed. “I am glad you sacrificed for the greater good, but I believe I’m coming to understand the workings of your brain. You believe you can repeat the action at will.”
She couldn’t remember the last time someone had shown her such solicitous concern, and she wasn’t sure what to do with it. Her life followed a predictable pattern of locating a problem then finding a solution, and those in her realm expecting nothing less. Never mind that the load was a heavy one—it defined her, and she had grown accustomed to it. It was one thing to imagine trusting someone to help carry the load. It was another altogether for someone to be so concerned for her that it meant preventing her from helping people because it caused her discomfort.
“You are a good man, Daniel Pickett. I’m glad for your concern, but—”
He stood so swiftly she blinked, and he placed both hands flat on the table, looming close to her. “You’re not hearing me. You are deliberately not listening.” His deep voice rumbled through her. “Isla, your body was under such stress after your session with Lewis that your nose bled while you slept.” His jaw was taut.
“I readied for bed, checked on you once more, and your face was covered in blood.” He shook his head. “I’ll throw you in the cargo hold before I see that happen again. It’s bad enough that I see it every time I close my eyes.”
Her mouth dropped open. “But when I awoke, I didn’t see anything on myself or—” The blood on her shoulder. Of course.
“I cleaned you up, changed the bedding. I had covered you up before, so not much dripped onto your shirt.” He pushed himself away and turned, running an agitated hand through his hair. He looked as frustrated as she’d ever seen him, and the entire conversation threw her off balance.
She’d never bled in her sleep. Never bled while awake, for that matter. She was predictably, boringly healthy. A sliver of fear snaked its way up her spine. Was the curse placing such a strain on her body that she was becoming ill? Or perhaps she’d used more energy than she’d thought with Lewis.
Daniel faced her, and she exhaled slowly. “I will employ that intensive hypnotherapy again only if it means life or death for someone.” She paused uncomfortably. “Thank you for cleaning me. These circumstances are highly unusual for me—”
“And for me!” He threw his arms wide. “Have you any idea how terrified I was to find you like that? Isla, I thought you were dead!”
She stood. “I did not knowingly put myself in harm’s way. My actions were not an intentional affront directed at you! And where might we all be right now if I hadn’t tried something?”
He took a step closer, his eyes blazing. “I would rather this entire ship fall out of the sky than find you dead in that cabin,” he bit out.
Silence stretched between them, and Isla stared. She swallowed and was the first to find her voice. “Let us hope neither one of those things comes to pass.”
He shoved the wardroom door closed and moved toward her before she could blink. He put a hand around her waist and grasped her head, his fingers spanning the back of her neck and his thumb along her jawline. He moved her back up against the wall and lowered his mouth to hers.
She lost all sense of space and time. The onslaught of sensation was overwhelming, heightened by the intense emotion pouring off Daniel in waves. She tasted his fear, his frustration and urgency, as his lips moved over hers in a long, deep kiss. He pulled back and locked eyes with her. Just when she thought he might speak, he kissed her again, pulling her tightly against him and exploring her lips as though he would learn the taste of her by heart. She felt him relax, felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders as she wound her arms around his neck, losing herself in the beautiful oblivion of the moment. For that one moment, the world outside melted away, and there were only the two of them.
She buried her hands in his hair, the soft strands slipping between her fingers, returning his affection and knowing that if she lived to be a million years, she would never experience another kiss like this one. He lifted his head and looked at her, winded. While she tried to catch her breath, he touched his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. His arms remained tightly wound around her, and trapped as she was between him and the wall, she decided she could have remained there for an eternity and been perfectly content.
“I am not sorry,” he said, eyes still closed. “Not even a bit.”
She laughed, still breathing as though she’d run a mile. “I would be offended if you were.”
He lifted his head, eyes heavy-lidded and lips quirked in a wry smile. “I have been wanting to do that for a long time. I would like to continue doing it for a very long time.”
“Why have you waited?”
“I am navigating a different path with you. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever known.”
She lifted a brow. “I don’t know if that is a compliment.”
He kissed her again. “Very much a compliment.”
“I’ve been wanting the same thing. Since that day near the engine room.”
He nuzzled her neck, the spot behind her ear. “For the love of heaven, why did you not act on it?”
She slipped her fingers into his hair again. “I am not a woman of vast experience in that field, and my talents are not at all traditional. What ought I to have done? Held a knife to your throat in the wheelhouse and demanded a moment of your time?”
He groaned against her skin and lifted his head, meeting her eyes, brows raised. “Dr. Cooper, you have no idea how well that would have been received.”
She laughed. “I’ll remember that for future reference.”
“Please do.” He released a long sigh and shifted his hold, loosening his grip and stepping back. His hands lingered at her waist, pulling her fractionally forward. He brushed at the back of her hair and cleared his throat. “Apologies for . . . for shoving you up against the wall.”
“Accepted.” She felt strangely, smugly satisfied. She straightened her clothing, wondering how on earth she was supposed to go about her day after that.
He moved closer, as though he couldn’t stay away, and traced his thumb along her cheek. “So good to see color in your face,” he murmured.
“Daniel, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you have to see—”
“Shh.” He shook his head and rested his palm against her cheek. “I’m not. I just . . .” His brows drew together. “I do not want you to be in a position that causes you more harm. You’re a grown woman, and you’ll do whatever you wish. But I’ll not stand by and simply watch. It may be your life, your choices, but you do not have the luxury of believing it doesn’t affect anyone else.”
She turned her lips to his palm, placing a kiss on it. “Thank you for taking care of me. It is completely foreign to me.”
“I know.” He kissed her softly and ran his thumb across her lower lip. “I was terrified. It was an experience I’d rather not repeat.” He took a deep breath and quietly exhaled. “We land soon, our three friends can find themselves some seclusion on the island away from prying eyes, and you do not need to pour your soul into someone else.”
“Aye, Captain.”
He rolled his eyes. “If I thought you’d listen, I would pull rank.”
“Where would be the fun in that? I am unique, is that not what you said?”
He grabbed her hand and walked to the door. “Uniquely guaranteed to drive a man mad,” he muttered and put his hand on the door handle.
She smiled up at him and bravely leaned in close. “One more.”
He grinned. “One more.” He dipped his head and kissed her before finally breaking it off with a muttered curse. He opened the door, still holding her hand. “And duty remains. Do you have immediate plans for the morning?”
She walked onto the deck with him, shielding her eyes against the sun. “I had thought to visit with Lewis, take notes of his experience for my colleague.”
He frowned. “Lewis can wait. I need you in the wheelhouse.”
She knit her brow. “For what purpose?”
He continued his long-legged stride across the deck. “I need to know you’re still here.”