She’d been certain he would ask her annoying questions, questions she didn’t want to answer. She had been certain of it. But no, the vexing man couldn’t even annoy her in a reasonable manner. No he had to take offense at what she said, he had to misread it and turn it about leaving her bewildered with nothing like an answer ready for him. She most certainly did not think him a child, the evidence of that was clutched to her chest. 

She struggled to her feet, her head protesting all the while as she desperately sought an explanation to offer him all the while fighting delight that he hadn’t pressed her. She didn’t get a chance to say anything because he, maddening man, kept on speaking. His very words stealing her footing from under her. He didn’t want to sail without her? Panic filled her at the words, at the implication contained within them. Panic flooded her eyes and they widened almost comically as he approached her. Then against her will they fluttered closed when he hooked his finger under her chin and tipped her face up to his. Anticipation filled her, sweet anticipation that she was too off kilter to stop. 

He kissed her. 

Not the deep, press of flesh to flesh she would have expected. No the kiss he gave her was soft, gentle and did more damage than even the most passionate, brutal kiss would have. She had no defense against such a kiss. She might have even leaned into him, a soft sweet sound slipping from her just before he pulled back and stalked out. 

She stood for a moment, eyes closed swaying towards where he had been and it was only the sound of the door closing behind him that made her eyes fly open, bringing her back to the moment. 

Fury filled her, fury and panic so thick, so strong she couldn’t breathe. It was not directed at him, for all that he was maddening and insufferable and it was all directed inward at herself. She had allowed herself to grow weak, to soften. She hadn’t held herself together and had broken more than once in the last few days. She was weak and she had let him in. 

Seconds after he left her cabin he would hear a great crash as her mug smashed against the wall of her cabin, thrown with all the fury she held inside her. The lance of pain that flashed in her head from the sound of the impact was penance, it was less than she deserved. There was no further sound from the cabin after that for she had grabbed her one pillow and pressed it against her marred face to smother the sobs that wracked her. 

The Captain’s voice boomed out, jarring her from her self-indulgent fit of pique and within but a few minutes of his bellow, a stone-faced Nicki stepped out of her cabin, her hair pulled back in a tight, severe knot, her clothing dark and as concealing as the night before’s clothing had been revealing. Her eyes were a little red and her mouth a tight line across her face as she looked about the deck, took in the work that was being done and then began to bellow out her own orders. If there was distress mixed into the honey of her words, only those who knew her would hear it and owing to her usual care of such things, there were few enough who could hear it. She tasted on her lips the result of letting people inside and felt it in the confusion in her heart, still raw from her encounter with the commander the night before. 

It was good to leave this place, get some sea behind them. It would give her time to think, to consider if this might need to be her last trip on the Skate, she was making too many mistakes, too many things were out of her control.