Surrender of a Siren (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #2)

And then—as if God Himself had heard him and decided to drown his blasphemous soul and be done with it—the skies opened up and vomited rain.

Stinging sheets of water scoured the deck, pelting them as they huddled by the cannon. For long moments the two of them crouched there, soaking up water like sponges. Gray’s limbs were heavy with shock. At last, Davy sputtered and shook himself like a wet dog, adding a horizontal spray of water to the vertical deluge. “Thank God.” His boyish  grin broke the ice encasing Gray’s own reaction.

He laughed. What else could he do? He ought to have died. He was going to live. It was either laugh or weep, and he was already soaked with enough water to float a barrel.

“Don’t relax yet. We’re not done.” He put a hand under Davy’s arm and hauled the boy to his feet. “Find any able-bodied men still aboard and form a work chain. The ship’s not out of danger yet. A slow fire might have sparked anywhere in her frame. We have to bring up that rum from the hold and dump it overboard. Then we’ll see to the injured.”

Davy paused as they moved toward the hatch. “If we’re throwing the rum overboard … Can we at least drink some first? I could do with a swallow.”

Gray laughed. “So could I.”

Some time later, Gray swung his shaky legs over the rail of the Aphrodite. Joss hurried to his side. “Any dead?”

“Two. And three more gravely wounded.” Gray raked his wet hair away from his face. “Best to send the longboat for them. There doesn’t seem to be any fire in the hold, but you know as well as I do it’s too soon to tell. These things are known to flare up hours later. We’ve emptied it of anything incendiary, just to be safe.”

Joss looked up at the sky. “Well, with this downpour, it seems less likely.”

“Aye.” Exhausted, Gray leaned against the rigging and wiped his brow with his forearm. “Everyone all right here?” He tried to keep his voice steady.

Joss nodded. “She’s in my cabin, Gray. I think you’d better go to her.”

“I don’t think she’d want that.” After the way he’d deserted her earlier, he assumed she’d be just as happy never to see him again.

“She’s been sick with worry, Gray. I had to order her to go below. Even then, she’d only heed my cautions long after the rain doused the blaze. She

’ll be relieved to see you’re well.”

“She’s just anxious for young Davy.” Still, he couldn’t douse the spark of hope that kindled in his chest. And he couldn’t stay away. Giving Joss an affectionate punch on the arm, he climbed the stairs to the helm and opened the hatch.

Slowly, he descended into the murky cabin. Although it was still daytime, the storm clouds banked most of the sun’s rays. Gray blinked, scanning the shadows. Then he saw her, silhouetted against the windows at the stern.

“Gray?”

He nodded. Then, realizing she probably couldn’t discern the gesture in the dark, he cleared his throat and forced out, “It’s me.”

“Are you … are you well?”

“Yes.” His eyes began to adjust to the dimness, and he could just make out the soft slope of her shoulder, her arms crossed over her belly. Her hair was loose, falling to her waist in heavy waves.

“Levi and O’Shea?” she asked, her voice tremulous. “Davy?”

“They’re safe, too. The fire’s out. It’s all over.”

She said nothing. Gray stood quietly for a moment, shifting his weight. Goto her, a voice inside him urged. Take her in your arms. Beg herforgiveness. Say something; promise her anything. God, what a coward he was. In truth, he’d been only too eager to board a burning ship and risk his life that afternoon. Because it was easier to walk through fire than to face this little governess, and the tempest of emotion she stirred in his heart.

The silence mocked him. He was on the verge of taking his leave when suddenly she ran to him, flinging her arms around his neck.

“Oh, Gray. I was so frightened. But I just knew you’d come back to me. You had to come back to me.”

“Of course I did.” Gray stood shocked and immobile as she clutched his neck, sobbing noisily against his shoulder. His hands dangled uselessly at his sides.

“Gray,” she cried again and again. “Thank God you’re safe.”

Her affection overwhelmed him, as did her softness, her tears. Even after all he’d said to her, after all he’d done—she still gave a damn whether he lived or died. It was humbling. Incomprehensible. Wonderful. If he’d known this would be his reward, he would have fallen overboard weeks ago. Finally, he drew a deep breath and wrapped his arms about her, clutching her tightly to his chest. “Shhh, sweet.” With a trembling hand, he stroked her hair. The damp locks slid through his fingers like ribbons. “Don’t cry. Everything’s fine. It’s all over now.”

She sniffed and raised her face to his. He was still murmuring assurances and stroking her hair, and the sight of that perfect face tilted inches from his