He was right, of course. I had a terrible weakness where my helmsman was concerned. I let him get away with all manner of insolence, only because he had the purest heart of any man on my crew. But I would still give him my mind on the matter.

Priest returned to my side and twined his fingers around mine. As I stared at our hands, dizziness threatened, my energy already draining.

“Put the map in a safe place,” I said. “Don’t let me see it or know its secret until I’m out of this bed, walking without assistance, feeding and bathing myself.”

I didn’t need the motivation, but I liked goals with scintillating rewards. I was a pirate, after all. I seized and savored the riches.

I love bathing you, he mouthed.

“I can’t imagine why. I’m repulsive.” I sagged against the pillows, struggling to hold my head up. “I think I need a short sleep now.”

He scowled threateningly and yanked off the sheet that covered me. I jerked my head away, but he grasped my jaw and forced my eyes downward, showing me my body.

As expected, the bruises were long gone. But my muscles had wasted away, leaving a gaunt, rawboned ghost of the strong, battle-honed woman I’d once been. Even so, it wasn’t as wretched as I’d imagined. Priest and Ashley had kept me nourished. I remembered the forced feedings, the constant flavor of broth on my tongue. They’d kept me alive.

Priest skidded his hand down my throat to my breasts. I’d lost weight there, too, but he didn’t seem to mind. His fingers lingered, molding around the nipples, and his breaths increased the lift and fall of his chest.

He licked his lips and continued lower, resting his palm on my ribs. I tensed, bracing for the agony that I’d lived with for weeks. The pain had anchored itself there, but the weight of his touch didn’t make me flinch. The ache seemed to only flare with muscle movement.

“All right.” I sighed. “You made your point.”

But he kept going. Prodding here, caressing there, he slowly, masterfully, turned me into a languid mixture of drowsy content. After five weeks of taking care of me, he was more acquainted with my body than I was, and he proved it with every touch.

He saved the juncture of my legs until the end. His fingers skimmed the tuft of curls and traced the slit beneath, cupping me possessively.

You. Are. Stunning.

I read his lips clearly as he lifted his gaze to mine, his thick dark lashes drifting upward. Perhaps there was lust in those silver eyes, but it wasn’t the chief emotion. His intimacy with my body ran deeper, his hand between my legs more profound than carnal intent.

It was an act of love. Of acknowledgment and acceptance.