That had been so close. Too close.

Olivia stood frozen, staring at the closed cabin door, her heart racing. What had she been thinking, taking on every challenge he issued, casting all propriety to the wind? She hadn't been thinking, she'd stubbornly forged ahead refusing to admit defeat.

And they'd almost kissed.

She'd been close enough to see the golden speckles in his brown eyes. The faint scar at the corner of his eyebrow. Feel the brush of his breath against her lips...

Dear lord, but she'd wanted him to kiss her. So much that she'd almost closed the distance herself. With a groan, she turned away from the door. She shouldn't want to kiss Captain Warble. She loved Dash. What kind of woman was she, to be so fickle, so easily swayed by a set of firm shoulders and a roguish smile?

Her fingers tingled as she remembered the feel of his skin beneath her hands when she washed his back. The play of muscles beneath her fingertips. It had been intoxicating. Her previous experience with men was limited to dancing and the occasional fumbled attempt to get her in private for a kiss. Something she had never agreed to, not for lack of daring or worry for her reputation, but for the simple reason that no one had interested her after she fell for Dash.

Not until Captain Warble.

She didn't want to be attracted to the Captain. Didn't want to find his company as enjoyable as she did. Dash was the man who held her heart. She'd been in love with him for so long, how could she possibly give up now? Especially when she was already partway across the ocean to come find him and confess her feelings. She'd risked everything for him...

And yet...she couldn't stop thinking about the captain. About the heat in his eyes when she leaned over him. He most definitely knew she was a woman. But like her, he seemed to want a confession rather than accusing her. How would he react if she did confess?

It was all too much, and she kicked at the tub, hoping to relieve some frustration. But all it did was stub her toe. She cursed under her breath.

Glaring at the tub, she caught herself, remembering the last thing the captain had said before leaving. He'd offered her the bath. The steam still rose from the water. It was so tempting, so inviting. She desperately wanted a bath after having been limited to sponging herself off every morning and night. She wanted to slip beneath the surface and let the heat soak into her bones and wash away every frustrating thought and feeling.

But what if someone came in? What if she was discovered? It would spell her ruin.

The captain had promised her privacy. Could she trust him to stay away? To make sure no one else aboard entered?

In the end, the lure of the bath was too strong to resist. With trembling hands, she shed her clothes, letting them fall to the floor in a puddle of fabric. She stepped into the tub, holding back a moan of pleasure as the hot water enveloped her and the steam curled around her like a lover's embrace.

Oh, it was heaven. Never before had she appreciated a bath this much. The heat seeped into her muscles, easing the aches and pains of the long days at sea. Tension drained from her body, and the knots in her shoulders and back unravelled like threads from a spool.

She sank deeper into the water, letting it lap at her chin and cheeks. It was a luxury she'd almost forgotten. So much better than a basin of water and a rough cloth.

Closing her eyes, she let her mind drift, letting the worries and fears and the doubts slip away. And inevitably, inexorably, her thoughts returned to Captain Warble.

To the way he had looked at her. Touched her. When he'd accidentally called her pretty. How hot his skin had been under her touch. How strong his body looked. She could almost feel him there with her, almost imagine his hands on her, his lips on her neck, her breasts.

A flush of heat that had nothing to do with the water suffused her body, and she squirmed as a throbbing ache built between her thighs. Almost without thinking, she let her hand drift lower, skimming over her breasts, her stomach, and her hips.

But as her fingers brushed the curls at the apex of her thighs, she froze, shame and guilt crashing over her like a wave. What was she doing? How could she even think of touching herself, of finding pleasure in her own body, when she was betraying the man she loved?

Because she did love Dash. Didn't she? He was the sole reason she was here, the reason she had undertaken this mad, reckless journey. She was risking everything for the chance of being with him.

Dash...

She scrunched her eyes tighter, trying to conjure his handsome face, but it wouldn't come to her. It wasn't that she'd forgotten what he looked like. Her mind was just too preoccupied by everything that was Captain Warble.

He saw her in a way Dash never had. Challenged her and spoke to her almost like an equal—as much as he could when she pretended to be a young boy. How had he seen through her disguise so easily? And when had he first realised? She wanted to ask him, but that meant she had to admit defeat, and that she didn't want.

There were so many questions and so few answers. With a sigh, she forced herself to relax. There was nothing she could do about it right now, so she should just enjoy this rare treat of a bath.

She breathed deeply and let the air out slowly, her body growing heavy and languid in the water. The sounds of the ship faded away, the creaking of the timbers and the splash of the waves becoming a distant, muted hum.

Time passed as she lay there, floating in that blissful state between wakefulness and sleep. She had no idea how long she'd been there when suddenly the creak of the cabin door jolted her back to reality and her eyes flew open as panic seized her.

Standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock and something that might be awe, was Captain Warble.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other. She clutched the sides of the tub, her heart pounding and her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

This was it. There was no denying the truth now. She was as naked as the day she was born, her long hair plastered to her skull and back. The water offered little in terms of privacy but did conceal her somewhat. But even so, there would be no doubt she was a woman.

Captain Warble's eyes strayed from her face to the bit of chest visible above the water and she could see him swallow before quickly returning his gaze to meet hers. There was a darkness in his eyes she didn't think was because of anger, but she wasn't sure.

"Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath, and she wasn't sure if she had been meant to hear it.

"C...Captain," she stuttered. "I—"

"I think we need to talk," he cut her off, his voice gruff but not angry.

She nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. "Yes... I..."

What could she say? Even if he'd suspected—known—about her deception, it wasn't easy to have to explain. He must think her a madwoman for doing what she did.

He cleared his throat, a flush rising in his cheeks. "I...I'll wait outside for you to get yourself...presentable. Take your time."

And with that, he was gone, the door closing softly behind him. Olivia sagged back against the tub, her heart racing and her mind whirling with a thousand thoughts and emotions.

Their game was up and no one had been the winner. Now she had to explain herself to him, and lord knew how she could do that when she barely could explain it to herself.

She quickly climbed out of the tub, reaching for a towel to dry herself off. Dressing quickly, she fumbled with the buttons and laces, her mind still reeling. Since there was no reason to disguise herself anymore, she didn't bind her chest and only put on a shirt and a pair of trousers.

What would happen now? What would he say? Do? Would he turn the ship around and send her back to England in disgrace? It seemed unlikely since he hadn't done so the moment he suspected her deception. But she couldn't ignore the tiny possibility that it had been all in her head and he hadn't known about her. In which case, all bets were off.

Drying her hair as best as she could with the towel, she finally squared her shoulders and stared at the door. She was ready. Or as ready as she'd ever be.

"I'm done," she called, surprised her voice didn't quiver.

The door opened almost immediately and the captain stepped inside, closing it behind him again. Taking in her appearance, he leaned lazily against the door as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, Oliver," he said, the sarcasm dripping off the name. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

~~~~~~