The Girl from Everywhere (The Girl from Everywhere, #1)

“Perhaps in one of these back valleys . . .”


I cleared my throat more noisily than I had to, but thankfully their conversation faded quickly to murmurs, and for once it seemed like Blake was not listening closely. His eyes were flitting around the room, never resting long on one spot, and he shifted on his feet. “Mr. Hart,” I said, crossing my arms and making a show of studying him. “This may be the first time I’ve seen you at a loss.”

He laughed a little, but he was spinning his hat nervously in his hands. He glanced at the triangular corner of my room, the part behind the bow, which was bare but for some pillows and the tattered quilt Slate had wrapped me in when he’d taken me from the opium den. “Is this where you live?”

I shook my head. “It’s only where I keep my things.”

He stretched out his arms; standing where he was, his fingertips brushed the sides of the ship. “There isn’t much space.”

“I have the rest of the world.”

“Hmm.” He dropped his arms to his sides. “Have you ever considered a life elsewhere?”

“Oh, many times,” I said lightly. “And many places.”

“Spoken like a true adventurer.” Blake turned in a slow circle, and his eyes fell on my scattered books. He knelt to pick them up, but I crouched beside him, taking his hand in mine.

“Leave them be,” I said. “I’ll clean later.” Then I tilted my head. “Are you blushing?”

He pulled his hand back as though stung. Then he laughed ruefully. “It appears I am not so at ease in your territory as I am in my own.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, feeling bold. “The next time you try to impress me, I’ll press-gang you instead. We could use an extra deckhand.”

He grinned. “I’d rather find a way to draw you back ashore. Tell me, Miss Song,” he said, taking my hand this time, running his thumb gently over my skin. “Have you ever considered staying in Honolulu? I promise you, on this island, you will find a lifetime of adventure without ever having to raise a sail.”

I opened my mouth, partly in surprise, partly to speak, but I was interrupted by a knock at my door.

“Amira?”

For a moment, we were both still. The silence was stifling. “Yes?”

“Can I . . . I wanted to talk to you. About last night.”

If I hadn’t been nearly nose to nose with Blake, I wouldn’t have seen it, the tightening around his eyes. “I . . .” I cleared my throat, trying to keep my voice light. “There’s nothing to talk about, Kash.”

He was quiet so long I thought maybe he’d gone. “As you say,” he said, finally. I didn’t hear his footsteps as he left, but I did hear his door open and close.

I sighed, and Blake dropped my hands and stood, taking a step back, suddenly quite formal. “Perhaps rather than—” He cleared his throat. “Perhaps I might indeed take a moment to speak with the captain.”

“What for?”

He straightened his shoulders. “I am no scoundrel.”

I pressed my lips together and took a step back myself. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Have I flattered myself to think you’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent? I am not asking for a promise. Only an opportunity.”

An opportunity—and an escape, although not the one I’d planned. I imagined it then, not just another week, but another year, another decade—a lifetime here in the place of my birth. Learning more than what I could in books, in paradise before the fall.

Although fall it would.

Knowing what I knew, the choice should have been clearer, but looking into Blake’s eyes, I couldn’t find the words to give him a real answer. Instead, I resorted to cowardice. “My father would likely refuse.”

“Perhaps he’s never considered that a ship is not the best place for a lady.”

“I’m not a lady, Blake. I’m a sailor.”

“But so nearly a local. You may consider extending your stay—just for a time? A year? Two? We could explore the hidden trails and the secret caverns and live on fish and fruit. I could even teach you to surf if you miss the rhythm of the water.” He took my hand again and stared into my eyes. His own were the color of the open sea. “We could map every hidden spot on the island.”

“Blake.” My mouth was dry. All I could add was “Please.”

He clenched his jaw, locking all the objections he wanted to make behind his teeth. Blake was indeed a gentleman. He stood the next few minutes in excruciating silence, his hands clasped and his head bowed, before I crept out of the room to check the hall.

The coast was clear, and quietly, we went above. Rotgut didn’t look at us, but he did raise one hand in a salute.

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