So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)

The ladder had fallen back down the side of the ship.

Rupert peered over the bulwark. The princess had taken hold of the ladder to begin her ascent, but she was looking back at her companions on the Eberoni ship. After one last wave, she turned back to the ladder and glanced up.

Rupert stepped back out of view. Holy crap. There had been tears on her cheeks. Don’t feel sorry for her. Her family was guilty of heinous crimes. But what if she was as innocent as she looked?

Dammit. Rupert scrubbed a gloved hand over the two-day-old whiskers along his jaw. Why should he feel guilty? He was doing her a favor by keeping her away from her evil brother.

“Be careful!” Sister Fallyn yelled to Brigitta.

Rupert glanced over the bulwark once again. The princess was holding a wooden rung with one hand while using the other hand to lift her skirt out of the way. Slowly but steadily, she worked her way up. Too slowly.

He opened his mouth to give the order to have her hauled up, but hesitated. The rope tied to the stern of the dinghy was right next to the ladder, so he could easily help her himself. She’s the enemy. Stay the hell away from her.

But the image of her tear-streaked face needled him. Hadn’t he made a pledge to that innocent baby girl in her lacy white crib? “Shit.”

Sister Fallyn eased away with an appalled look.

Rupert swung over the railing and slid silently down the rope. He stopped with the toes of his boots resting on a large knot. Next to him, Brigitta was focused on her skirt and apparently oblivious to his arrival.

“Need any help?” he asked in Eberoni.

“I’m quite fine, thank—” She gasped as she finally noticed him. “Ack!” She jerked away so fast, her feet slipped off the rung, leaving her dangling from her hands.

“Careful.” He looped an arm around her and pulled her close.

Another gasp. Her head lolled back, then her eyes glazed over and flickered shut.

What the hell? Had she fainted at the mere sight of him? She was still breathing, for he could feel the gentle pressure of her breasts moving against him. A lavender scent wafted toward him, tempting him to bury his nose in the beautiful curve of her neck. As he searched her face, he noted a few golden freckles amid the rosy pink of her cheeks. She looked so young, yet the body pressed against him was definitely mature. Well curved. Soft.

Don’t react, he warned himself. Remember who she is. The enemy.

“Brigitta,” he whispered, and her dark eyelashes fluttered before opening to reveal her large turquoise eyes. Damn.

“What…? Release me!” She frantically pulled away and scrambled to place her feet back on a wooden slat.

“Allow me.” He lifted her skirt a few inches. The enemy had nice ankles.

“Stop that!” She swatted at his arm.

“I’m only trying to help.”

She scoffed. “If ye truly wanted to help, ye would tell that horrid Rupert that he has no right to kidnap me or threaten the lives of my sisters.”

“Horrid Rupert?”

“Aye. And he shouldn’t have sent you here to startle me with that ridiculous mask ye’re wearing.”

“Ridiculous?”

“Aye, for it makes no sense for ye to wear it. It hardly conceals the fact that ye’re a pirate. It rather confirms it, I would think.”

His mouth twitched. Brigitta was more feisty than he had expected. “Shall I carry you on board?”

She blinked in surprise. “Don’t be silly.”

That was a first. He’d been called a bastard, thief, sorcerer, and monster, but never silly. He slowly smiled.

Her eyes widened, then she ducked her head to focus on her skirt as she went up another step on the ladder. “’Tis silly to think ye can carry someone and climb at the same time. Ye have only two arms like everyone else.”

“Ah. That is true.” He lifted himself up a bit higher on the rope to keep her at eye level. As his arms took on all his weight, his shirtsleeves pulled tight against his biceps.

Her gaze shifted to his arms, then back to the ladder. With her cheeks blushing, she carefully maneuvered up another step. “Ye would definitely need to keep yer hands free.”

“True. A man should always be free with his hands around a beautiful woman.”

She scoffed. “That is not at all what I meant and ye know it.” Her cheeks bloomed a brighter pink. “Now please, leave me be. I can manage perfectly well without you.”

“Aye, no doubt you can. But at this rate, the sun will have set by the time you reach the top.”

She shot him an annoyed look. “Are ye in a hurry to set sail? Why? Do ye have a number of villages to plunder afore nightfall?”

He gritted his teeth. Very well, let her think the worst of me. If she hated him, he wouldn’t feel so damned guilty about using her. “There’s always another village for me to pillage.”

“A poetic pirate,” she muttered, then grabbed on to the next rung. “And have ye no remorse for the suffering caused by yer criminal behavior? No regret for forcing me to come here or threatening the lives of people I care about?”

His grip on the rope tightened. He had enough regret in his life to fill the ocean. “I would need a conscience for that, and it was ripped from me many years ago.”

She blinked, then her gaze grew soft as she looked him over like he was some sort of lost puppy. “I’m sorry.”

Holy crap. He wanted her anger, not her pity. If she abhorred the sight of him, she would avoid him while on board, and he wouldn’t be constantly riddled with guilt. Or reminded that she was beautiful. More than beautiful. Brave and feisty. Intelligent. Compassionate. Everything he’d ever wanted—he crushed that thought with a mental fist. “This is taking too long. I’ll carry you up.”

“Nay.” She adjusted her skirt and ascended another rung. “We’ve already established that it isn’t possible.”

“Oh, but it is.” He leaned toward her. “All you have to do is climb onto my back and put your arms around my neck.” When her eyes widened, those beautiful eyes, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Then you wrap your legs around me and squeeze me tight.”

“Enough! Leave me be.” She quickly stumbled up another step, her cheeks flushed. With anger, no doubt. For he’d proven himself to be a complete ass.

Mission accomplished. His heart twisted with regret as he slowly hauled himself up the rope.

Rip.

“Oh, no,” she groaned.

He glanced down. In her haste she’d managed to rip a section of her skirt away from the waistline of her gown. “Do you need—”

“Go away!” she yelled at him.

“As you wish.” He hefted himself over the railing and ignored the disapproving glare of the nun. Even Stefan was glowering at him. “What?”

“We’ll talk later,” Stefan muttered.

With a snort, Rupert motioned toward the ladder. “Haul her up.” Then he strode across the deck and climbed up to the crow’s nest.