She lay on her back. He’d propped himself up on one elbow by her side, with one of his long legs draped partly over her to allow his larger body to fit into the restrictive space. Georgie closed her eyes as the scandalous nature of the position flooded her senses.

“Where do you fink ’e wants ’em?” a rough voice rasped.

“Just leave them over there,” came the reply.

The sound of something heavy being dropped echoed around the room. The footsteps receded, only to return a few moments later with the same series of clatters, grunts, and thuds, presumably some sort of lumber delivery. Georgie prayed that whoever it was would finish their task quickly and leave. It was warm inside the submarine, as if they’d been swallowed by a dragon. They were inside its belly, trapped within its curving ribs.

Wylde’s long body pressed against hers, his warm breath mingling with hers. Her heart beat in her temples, and she took rapid, shallow breaths as the darkness began to crowd in on her. Had Wylde shut the hatch completely? Wouldn’t they run out of air?

He seemed to become aware of her growing distress; his hand settled gently on her breastbone. “Breathe with me,” he whispered, his lips just brushing her ear, a mere thread of sound. “Slowly. It’s all right. Just breathe.”

His hand was warm through her clothing, a reassuring weight. She felt her rib cage rise and fall and matched her breaths to his. In and out. Slower. Calmer. The panic receded, only to be replaced by a greater sense of awareness—of him. As if to compensate for her lack of vision, all her other senses became more acute. She could feel the texture of his clothing, the buttons of his coat pressing into her side, every single place his strong body touched hers. A lingering trace of coffee and smoke still clung to him, but beneath that was his own familiar scent, which made her heart thunder against her ribs.

She glared at him in silent reproach, as if their ridiculous predicament were somehow his fault. He shot her a droll glance in return, as if to say, I warned you.

The delivery was still going on outside. Muffled sounds of scraping wood continued mere feet away, on just the other side of the planks, but Georgie could barely concentrate. All she could think about was Wylde’s proximity.

He shifted restlessly, his body pressing against hers, and then he closed his eyes, as if the feel of her against him caused him physical pain. She watched the apple in his throat bob down as he swallowed.