I lifted my tunic over my head and tossed it. Her lips found my bare skin, peppering kisses in a trail from my navel to my chest, my neck, and jaw. Our mouths found each other again. I picked her up. Her chemise rose and bunched in between us. My palms cupped her exposed thighs, urging them to encircle my waist. I walked us backward to the bed, never breaking our kiss, and slowly lowered her down, careful to bear my weight against my forearm. I kissed her nose, her forehead, her chin, then back to her lips. She moaned for more. Her fingers wove into my hair, and she gripped me closer. My free hand traveled down her neck and over her breasts. She arched her body as I journeyed to the curve of her hip, then under her knee to wrap her leg around me. I pressed into her.

Her fingers played with the button on my trousers when I heard a noise. Footsteps.

“It’s probably a good idea to tell you both I’m in the room.” Smitter’s voice sounded somewhere behind me, way too close to the bed, to us.

I jumped backward, lost my balance, and stumbled to the floor. My rear landed hard. Lou swathed herself in a wad of sheets.

“I had hoped you’d come up for air, but there’s really no good way to interrupt.” He waved in between us.

“I’m going to kill you,” I growled from the floor. Out of all the times my uncle had popped in and out of a room, this had to be the most invasive.

“Why would you…? I can’t—don’t you ever do that again,” Lou shouted, horrified. Her hands balled around the sheets. Flushed like a sunburned noble, she volleyed her gaze between me, half clothed on the floor, and Smitter. Her knotted hair stuck up on top of her head.

“Yes, I realize it’s not great timing, but the two of you need your rest. We drop anchor tomorrow on the perimeter of Anthemusa. The men have already been moved to the soundproof rooms. And we need to strategize how you’ll slay the Siren Queen, now that our first plan is no longer viable.” Smitter’s concerned brown eyes found mine. “Also, your aunt said this isn’t the right time for”—he swirled a finger in our general direction—“this.”

Lou’s brows contorted. “What? Who is your aunt?” She gaped at me.

I waved Lou off. Aunt Artemis, the goddess of childbirth, would know when Lou should abstain, but I wasn’t about to have that conversation. I bent my knees, resting my elbows on my thighs, and rubbed my temples. My family had truly outdone themselves. Not a single boundary nor a clue as to how their incessant involvement could be a nuisance.