born male and had the means to a formal education."
Mary-Michael knew not everyone had the capacity to understand the things she did. But she had to believe that any man who went to University surely had the capability to understand. This man took university level courses on the subjects that she could only study on her own, with Mr. Watkins' help and encouragement until he could teach her no more. The captain had no idea how fortunate he was, and how she envied him that.
When the captain reached the deck, and Mary-Michael thought she heard him mutter something about being glad she wasn't born a male. She pretended not to hear it as she put her pencil in her mouth, and her note pad under her chin to begin her climb up the ladder. She'd done this same thing hundreds of times, and never had the thought of a man's gaze watching her as she did her job affect her in this way before. She felt a bit like a tasty morsel about to be pounced upon by a starving man.
Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the light, when they did she straightened her blouse, and came to stand beside him. "I told you. I do this every day." She led the way to the gangway. "Is there anything else you'd like to see? We can take the skiff and row around the hull if you'd like." As she took the first step onto the plank, a wave hit the boat and she teetered backward. Instinctively she threw her arms out for stability as she always did when that happened. She'd been in no real danger of falling, yet her companion instantly grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against him, leaving her no time to protest.
After the initial shock, she inhaled and caught the scent of his citrus and spice soap. Not the usual bay rum scent so many men over-indulged in. No. Captain Gualtiero smelled fresh and... Oh, heaven above, he smells so good. His rock hard chest felt safe and secure, and though she already had both through her marriage to Mr. Watkins, she suddenly craved them from this man without knowing why. His forearm was bare where it snuggled under her breasts, having rolled his shirt sleeves up hours ago when the temperatures began climbing into the usual summer heat of the Maryland coast in June. For just the smallest fraction of a moment, she felt him rest his chin on her head as he expelled a deep breath.
Being enveloped by his massive arms felt so right, almost as if they fit like two pieces of one puzzle. But the reality was that no matter the safety and security her heart desired from this man, she was married. And though she might need him for one very important thing, she could never allow her heart to belong to him because of the vow already made. With a regret he would never know, she pushed away from his embrace.
She struggled to find her voice, as his scent still lingered on her blouse. "That was quite noble of you to attempt to rescue me, though I was in control the entire time."
Captain Gualtiero looked confused a moment and Mary-Michael continued, hoping she appeared as confident as her voice sounded to her own ears. "The plank is going nowhere, it's fixed in place." She pointed at the steel hooks holding the end of the gangway onto the rail of the ship. "And, I know how to walk on a bobbing gangway."
"Tell me, Mrs. Watkins—" He matched her sarcasm with his own, "do you know how to swim? Because I would really hate to ruin my favorite boots by diving in to rescue you."
She sent him what she hoped was a frosty glare as she turned and climbed back onto the plank leading to the dock. "Of course I can swim." She strode down the narrow plank of wood and onto the dock. He fell in place beside her as she walked toward the office. Once outside the main doors, they stopped. She didn't see any reason to re-enter the warm, stuffy building when there was a perfectly nice breeze outdoors.
"I believe I have enough to start on your drawings tonight. Could you plan on spending several hours tomorrow—perhaps five or six—going over a list of accessories,
Mary-Michael knew not everyone had the capacity to understand the things she did. But she had to believe that any man who went to University surely had the capability to understand. This man took university level courses on the subjects that she could only study on her own, with Mr. Watkins' help and encouragement until he could teach her no more. The captain had no idea how fortunate he was, and how she envied him that.
When the captain reached the deck, and Mary-Michael thought she heard him mutter something about being glad she wasn't born a male. She pretended not to hear it as she put her pencil in her mouth, and her note pad under her chin to begin her climb up the ladder. She'd done this same thing hundreds of times, and never had the thought of a man's gaze watching her as she did her job affect her in this way before. She felt a bit like a tasty morsel about to be pounced upon by a starving man.
Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the light, when they did she straightened her blouse, and came to stand beside him. "I told you. I do this every day." She led the way to the gangway. "Is there anything else you'd like to see? We can take the skiff and row around the hull if you'd like." As she took the first step onto the plank, a wave hit the boat and she teetered backward. Instinctively she threw her arms out for stability as she always did when that happened. She'd been in no real danger of falling, yet her companion instantly grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against him, leaving her no time to protest.
After the initial shock, she inhaled and caught the scent of his citrus and spice soap. Not the usual bay rum scent so many men over-indulged in. No. Captain Gualtiero smelled fresh and... Oh, heaven above, he smells so good. His rock hard chest felt safe and secure, and though she already had both through her marriage to Mr. Watkins, she suddenly craved them from this man without knowing why. His forearm was bare where it snuggled under her breasts, having rolled his shirt sleeves up hours ago when the temperatures began climbing into the usual summer heat of the Maryland coast in June. For just the smallest fraction of a moment, she felt him rest his chin on her head as he expelled a deep breath.
Being enveloped by his massive arms felt so right, almost as if they fit like two pieces of one puzzle. But the reality was that no matter the safety and security her heart desired from this man, she was married. And though she might need him for one very important thing, she could never allow her heart to belong to him because of the vow already made. With a regret he would never know, she pushed away from his embrace.
She struggled to find her voice, as his scent still lingered on her blouse. "That was quite noble of you to attempt to rescue me, though I was in control the entire time."
Captain Gualtiero looked confused a moment and Mary-Michael continued, hoping she appeared as confident as her voice sounded to her own ears. "The plank is going nowhere, it's fixed in place." She pointed at the steel hooks holding the end of the gangway onto the rail of the ship. "And, I know how to walk on a bobbing gangway."
"Tell me, Mrs. Watkins—" He matched her sarcasm with his own, "do you know how to swim? Because I would really hate to ruin my favorite boots by diving in to rescue you."
She sent him what she hoped was a frosty glare as she turned and climbed back onto the plank leading to the dock. "Of course I can swim." She strode down the narrow plank of wood and onto the dock. He fell in place beside her as she walked toward the office. Once outside the main doors, they stopped. She didn't see any reason to re-enter the warm, stuffy building when there was a perfectly nice breeze outdoors.
"I believe I have enough to start on your drawings tonight. Could you plan on spending several hours tomorrow—perhaps five or six—going over a list of accessories,
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