8. Bryn
Bryn
That… No, that wouldn’t bode well.
“Do you have to?” I asked, not sounding as annoyed as I wanted to.
“I won’t touch you. At least, not without your permission. Or unless you do something that might cause harm to yourself or me.”
“Self-preservation is wise around me.”
“I am well aware. Especially with those six daggers still latched to your leg.” He chuckled. “Hop in. I don’t bite.”
That was a damn lie. He left teeth marks on my shoulder last year. Ones I’d returned in kind. But right now I was far too tired to argue further. I needed sleep if there was any chance of a successful mission, and that bed seemed nice and soft and comfortable.
I slipped between the still-warm covers and nestled into the mattress while scooting as close to the wall as possible. Henrik watched me closely as I got settled, a gentle smile tipping his lips, before he climbed in beside me… on top of the covers.
That was unexpected. But I was too tired to question it and enveloped in a coziness I hadn’t felt since leaving my bed in Grim weeks ago.
Doing my best not to touch him at all, I pressed myself to the wall. But, even with the blankets between us, I could feel the heat radiating off him in waves. That paired with the lull of the ship swaying had me falling into a deep sleep once more.
A touch landed on my side and startled me awake. My hand shot out to protect myself from the darkness but met a hard chest… a chest that didn’t belong… Where was I? And why was a sleeping Henrik beside me?
Slowly withdrawing my palm, I cursed myself for getting so comfortable around him. But the bed was warm, soft, and far more comfortable than anything I’d slept in the past few weeks, including the broom closet on this very ship.
I tried to roll out of his hold but fell into the dip in the bed he created, bringing our bodies flush together.
His eyes blinked open, fingers tightening around my waist before he retracted his hand. “Something wrong?”
“Trouble sleeping.”
“Anything I can do to help?” The usual sexual undercurrent that lay beneath everything he said to me was gone.
Instead, he sounded the same way he did around his crew: genuinely concerned.
It was the second time in the past few hours I’d heard that tone.
Why on earth would he be so worried about me?
Other than the need for my expert talents. That had to be it.
“Go back to sleep,” I whispered.
“Are you sure?”
Yes.
No.
Maybe.
As if he could hear me warring with my own thoughts, he asked, “Are you going to tell me what haunts your dreams, little thief?”
“No.”
He sighed. “Very well then. Want to hear about mine?”
For some bizarre reason, I did. I wanted to know more about this man who flirted like it was his profession and menaced the northern seas like they’d personally wronged him. “Yes,” I replied on a quiet breath.
He gave me a small, sleepy smile, his eyes fighting to stay open. “The whales are being aggressively hunted. If we don’t curtail the number of kills, they will eventually become extinct, and their loss will not only be a tragedy but harm our vital ecological systems.”
“You mean it could cause an overpopulation of krill?” The shrimp-like crustaceans were about the extent of my knowledge when it came to whales. My childhood had taught me far more about freshwater specimens.
He chuckled, low and warm, the reverberations trembling through the mattress and into me. “It’s a bit more complicated than that, but it would impact them and other creatures that roam the deep.”
Did Henrik Balderson have a heart?
“Yes, I do.”
Shite. “Did I say that out loud?”
He laughed again, hooked his arm behind his head, and blinked over at me from his pillow. “I care about a lot of things.”
“Like your crew and all those really big cannons?”
A smile appeared in the darkness. “Among other things.”
“Well, in my experience not many people are like you.”
“I’m honored.”
“You should be.” In my experience people could be nasty, self-centered, and cruel. I let out a shuddered sigh and shifted beneath the quilt, bringing it up to my chin.
“Get some sleep, little thief.” He brushed his hand over my upper arm, leaving goose bumps in his wake. “We will be there soon.”