I sat behind the desk, focused on the sewing project, and tried to ignore the ache. A few stitches here. Some fabric cuts there. But the throb between my legs persisted, accompanied by the tingling simmer that his kiss had left upon my lips.

Damn him and his beautiful pouting mouth. It was the bane of my existence and the only thing I could focus on. So I did what any immoral woman in my position would do.

I propped my bandaged foot on the desk, spread my legs wide, and reached beneath my skirts.

I didn’t need him or any man for this, but it didn’t hurt to imagine his sensual blue eyes. Hooded, unblinking, unsmiling, gorgeous gulfs of blue. I swirled my fingers around my swollen flesh, stirring my slickness and growing hotter. Until those blue eyes turned silver, sharp and glinting like blades.

Stop.

Concentrating harder, I fingered my ache while imagining Ashley fucking me. Then Priest appeared, pounding his magnificent length between my legs.

Confound it!

I started again. Ashley. His severe expression. That godlike body. Oh, the intensity he would bring as he moved over me, against me, inside me. My head spun with dizziness.

Priest returned, taking over the fantasy. Then they took turns, using my body forward and backward, top and bottom. So indecent. So sinful. So inconceivably good.

I worked my fingers faster, rubbing and thrusting with images of both men polluting my thoughts. I cried out as I came, my legs quivering and hips twitching through the pleasure.

Slumping onto the desk, I caught my breath. Much better.

I cleaned up and went back to work on the gown.

Hours passed. Meals arrived. I nibbled on salt fish and ship biscuits and periodically stepped onto the balcony to escape the swelter of the cabin.

Long after the sun went down, I finished the last detail on the skirt. The gown wasn’t nearly complete, but the task had effectively occupied my mind for the duration of the day.

Setting down the project, I shook out my fingers to get the blood circulating. Exhaustion weighed heavily in my bones. I was tired enough to sleep without dwelling on a jumbled tangle of blue and silver eyes.

Twenty minutes later, I lay in the dark, stretched out atop the counterpane. Brutal humidity saturated the night, but I didn’t mind the heat. It swaddled me into dreamlessness the moment I closed my eyes.

When I woke, I was drowsy, burning up, and not alone.

A beam of moonlight cut across the bed, illuminating a masculine hand on my thigh. I lay on my side, facing the wall, motionless, listening to the creaking of the ship, the roar of distant waves, and his heavy breathing.

His mouth was close, rustling the hair near my ear. Harsh breaths. Labored. He’d been touching me for a while.