Days weren’t much better. Every time she climbed to the crow’s nest, his miserable heart stuck in his throat. And it put him on edge while she was up there—he groused at anyone who stood in his way. Damn, he kept one eye on the lass at all times. She wasn’t as sure with the rigging as Runner—one slip and she’d be injured, mayhap killed. And when she was working on deck, it was an utter distraction with the way her breeches hugged her hips. Worse, Kennan was ready to lash out with the cat-o’-nine-tails whenever anyone gave her lip—though she could give it right back, bless her.

He watched Divana’s quill move as she bit the corner of her mouth, trying to make every stroke perfect—perfect like the crescent of her petite nose, the splay of red eyelashes half-cast as she studied, the slender arc of her waist.

He rubbed the ache in his damned loins. Was he to be hard throughout the entire voyage?

Divana glanced up and smiled, turning the parchment his way. “What do ye think?”

She should have been a scholar. Her handwriting was artful with hardly any blotches—which wasn’t easy on a sailing ship. He gave a nod of approval. “I’ll give you top levels for this.”

She retrieved the paper, a bit of color springing to her cheeks. “Ye’re nay just saying that to make me feel better?”

“’Tisn’t in my nature to give credit when it isn’t due—especially top levels.”

Her blush grew redder as she gazed at him out of the corner of her eye. He’d received such a look before, and not only from her. It was a feminine shift of the eye, informing him of the desire lurking deep within—whether she knew it or not. “Does that mean I’ve earned a favor?”

Kennan adjusted his seat, trying to push away his errant thoughts—like pulling off her shirt and slowly unwinding the bindings covering her breasts. Like unbuttoning her falls and ripping her breeches from those sumptuous hips.

“Ah…perhaps,” he mumbled. “What sort of favor?”

She pushed back her chair, her gaze focused on him. And when she sauntered near, her hips swayed with every lingering step.

Kennan’s breath caught as she placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Ye ken Fiona and Garry are engaged to be wed?” she whispered in his ear, her voice as sultry as the air of the southern sea.

“I’d heard.”

“I saw them.”