Iron Seas 03 - Riveted

But he wasn’t even interested.
    He’d only asked for friendship. It had been so stupid to hope for more.
    The lump in her throat grew excruciatingly thick. How could she be crying again? She tucked her chin down, hiding her face. She couldn’t bear for him to know.
    “Annika?”
    “Yes?” Despite her efforts, her voice hitched.
    “You’re crying?”
    Humiliation surfaced, caught in a net of anger and pain. Couldn’t he stop watching her for a second? His damned eyepiece. Wildly, she reached up, covered the lens. “Stop spying on me!”
    Metal fingers caught her wrist. His body heaved, and he all but threw her off him. She hit the wall, not hard enough to knock outher breath, but stunned out of her tears. He held her there, stiff-armed.
    “Don’t.” Hard, furious, as if ground out beneath clenched teeth. “Don’t ever blind me.”
    Was that what she’d done? Horrified, she realized it was true. She’d blinded him. Unthinking. As horrible as ripping away Lisbet’s nose, or kicking away Chief Leroux’s cane. So caught up in her pain, she’d lashed out in the worst way.
    She had no excuse. Annika nodded, her lips trembling. “I won’t.” And because it wasn’t enough, “I’m so sorry.”
    Harsh breathing filled the silence, then a tortured denial.
    He let her go suddenly, pulled away from her in the small space. Annika held herself against the wall, shame joining humiliation and misery. A rough curse filled the air. The crank of the lever followed, the clicking of the gear locks—abandoning the smuggle hole, though it was earlier than they’d planned.
    Getting away from her.
    Cold air rushed in as he left. She felt her way out, wishing he could take her hand again and guide her, knowing he wouldn’t. Crossing her arms over her chest, she shivered in the darkened room.
    He stood closer than she expected, his voice sounding oddly hollow after the intimacy of the hole. “Did I hurt you?”
    Her wrist? “No.”
    Every other pain was her own stupid fault.
    “I’m sorry for that.” A ragged draw of breath. “And I won’t touch you again.”
    She closed her eyes. No crying. No crying. “I know.”
    “Annika, I can’t promise…I don’t—” He broke off. Silence filled the room until he spoke again, each word low and urgent. “I don’t know what we’ll find when we leave Phatéon . You have good reason to doubt my friendship now, but I beg you to trust me until we’re safe again. Whatever happens, I’ll protect you. I understand if you refuse to continue our acquaintance, after.”
    Disbelieving, Annika stared through the darkness. New Worlders made absolutely no sense.
    “David, I attacked you.” And that wasn’t all. “Before that, I groped you. That’s not what a friend would have done. If you’d done the same to me without an invitation, I’d have thought you an animal. That’s not propriety, but decency—and I flung it over the side. You have reason to doubt my friendship, fondling you even though I knew you didn’t want me, simply because I hoped that the hardness meant you did. So I’m thoroughly ashamed of myself in addition to my other humiliations, because we’re in considerable danger and yet I’m thinking only of bedding you when I should be thinking about where to find a dry pair of boots.”
    He didn’t immediately reply. Then, “Look in the stateroom.”
    Because Maria Madalena was rich and moving to an island off Iceland. Yes, she’d have brought several pairs—and she was tall, unlike Annika. Her feet would probably be bigger, and too-large boots were always better than too small.
    She waited, but he didn’t respond to the rest of her outburst. Mortified by it, perhaps—or simply kind enough to let it go without adding to her humiliation.
    All right, then. She held out her hand. “Will you lead me there?”
    The warm clasp of his fingers over hers served as his answer. He drew her toward the door. “Do you have dry clothes?”
    “In my cabin.” And more in her pack, hopefully still in the lifeboat. “How wet was your coat?”
    “To hell with my coat.”
    David suddenly stopped, dropped her hand. Annika bumped into him—not into his back, as she’d assumed, but his front. The hands she automatically raised to brace herself flattened against his chest. He faced her, but she couldn’t see anything of his expression. Her eyes searched the darkness anyway.
    He bent his head. She felt his inhalation against her hair, the warmth of his breath