CHAPTER 61
“Do you often take midnight swims?”
“Do you often question your hosts?”
The man was glaring at her. He was sitting up sort of—it was more of a slouch over one side, propped up by one elbow like a Roman emperor might—and he still looked as pale as the sheets.
“And what are you even doing up?” she asked.
“Do you wish for me to remain unconscious?”
“I wish for you to get some rest.”
They glared at each other. She hated to admit it, but without that scowl on his face, he was probably quite handsome. Dark, curly hair fell just to his shoulders. It looked as well-trimmed and immaculate as hers wasn’t.
But then his eyes fell down to her wet clothes—and no doubt the way they clung to her body—and he averted his eyes. So probably not a pirate, she mused, amused.
“Do you not have a bathing gown, Miss…?” The way he trailed off at the end was clearly an invitation for her to fill in her name.
“Miss Wains. I assure you, had I known you were awake, I would not have—” She stopped.
Not what? She hadn’t thought of her inappropriate attire for a single second.
It had never even occurred to her. “Well, you can be assured it was not for your viewing pleasure!” she huffed, starting for her bedroom.
“You fell in, didn’t you?” He smiled, and she wanted to punch it off his smug face.
Instead, she gave him what she could manage of a smile and said, “Goodnight, sir. Do call if you need anything else.”
“I will be fine,” he said, and his smile was just as self-assured as she would expect it to be.