I shut my eyes as he entered the sleeping chamber. His movements stilled on the threshold, and I imagined him squinting at my prone form in the darkness.

With my shoulder pressed against the back wall of the bed’s alcove, I’d left too much room on the mattress beside me, like an invitation to join me. But it was too late to rectify that mistake.

He was already moving, stepping near the armoire. Drawers opened and closed. Fabric rustled. Leather creaked. The glide of laces emitted soft, rapid sounds.

And there went his clothing.

With my eyes sealed shut, I feared what I would find if I opened them. If he believed I was asleep, maybe he would go away.

The mattress dipped, canting beneath his weight.

My lungs tried to push a gasp past my lips. But I measured my breathing and kept the rise and fall of my chest even, subtle, mimicking sleep.

He stretched out beside me and adjusted the coverlet, making no attempt to be stealthy. The heat of him alone could’ve woken the dead. With less than a foot of space between us, I felt his body warmth as if he were pressed against me.

I wanted to sleep alone.

Except I’d done exactly that for two years, and it had been miserable.

Perhaps I wanted to sleep alone with someone like Ashley Cutler. But that didn’t make sense. I would’ve never considered such a thing with Madwulf MacNally or Lieutenant Flemming or any other lout on this ship.

Priest was the only one I’d ever fallen asleep with. The only one I ever wanted to fall asleep with.

Until he hurt me.

I cracked open an eye and glimpsed the bold squareness of Ashley’s nude back. Opening both eyes, I traced the line of his strong neck, the muscled slope of his shoulder, the bulge of his bicep. Exquisite. Flawless. Mercy God, I truly had a weakness for cruelty wrapped in a beautiful package.

The residual moonlight blanketed his nude body in shades of gray and trapped puddles of shadow where his lean waist met the edge of the coverlet. He was infinitely more desirable to behold when lying at ease in nothing but his skin rather than standing at attention in a gold-embellished uniform.

Knowing his nudity continued beneath the counterpane, I couldn’t have looked away if I wanted to. I should have chastised myself for inspecting him so closely, and I would have if my brain hadn’t abandoned me.

“Go to sleep.” His thick, rumbling voice stopped my heart.

I glared at his back. “You’re naked.”

“It’s how I sleep.”

“There’s a woman in this bed.”

“It’s my bed.”

“But—”

“Quiet.”

I pressed my lips together. Until I imagined his unclothed body tossing up against me during the night. “I don’t know what to do with this.”