Dangling me in front of Madwulf MacNally, baiting me into a fistfight, hanging me over the sea, and summoning his sergeant—every action had been calculated.

He was establishing boundaries.

Stepping into me, he pushed his hips against my clenched knees and positioned the knife at the knot on my wrists. “Open your legs.”

In one tingling swoop, the command heated me with arousal and chilled me with dread. I couldn’t fight him on this. If he intended to sever the rope and not my hands, he needed a closer angle.

I spread my legs.

“Good girl.” He straightened the shirt over my knees without looking and stretched over my inclined body. “Grab hold of me.”

He cut the knot.

As it unraveled from my arms, he didn’t touch me or try to prevent me from falling. He gripped the rail on either side of my hips, forcing me to reach for him. And reach I did. Clinging with arms and legs, I wrapped myself around the formidable pillar of his rock-hard frame.

“Remember this, Bennett.” He turned his head, feathering his lips against my ear. “I am the only thing standing between you and Madwulf. Turn a weapon on me, and your time on this ship will be spent on your back beneath the hunger of forty unwashed men.”

The wind grabbed my hair and tried to wrench me out to the sea. I dug my fingers into his muscled back and pressed my face against his chest, absorbing his words and cleaving to his strength.

He didn’t need to keep me in restraints. Didn’t need to guard his weapons. Didn’t need his soldiers to thwart my actions. He imprisoned me with a solid, genuine threat.

“You can wander freely.” His mouth moved against my cheek. “I’ve been very clear about what will happen if you attack me or any man on this ship.”

My stomach hardened.

He gripped my arm and pulled me down from the rail. My legs wobbled as I stepped into his sleeping chamber, looking for a place to sit.

A privacy screen concealed the washbasin and chamber pot. A chair sat beside the armoire. Within the wall across from that was a vaulted chamber made to enclose the overstuffed mattress on three sides.

The air smelled like mint and cedar and cleanliness. Every breath I took was too intimate, too masculine, too him. Where did he expect me to sleep?

My gaze flitted to the bed and jerked away.

As much as I needed to collapse, I chose to stand. “How did you recognize me?”

“I didn’t.” He set the knife on the small table beside me.

I sagged beneath the throbbing accumulation of the day’s injuries with no desire to look at the knife and even less desire to use it.