This wasn't exactly how Adrian had wanted the revelation of Oliver's true identity to happen, but after walking in on his cabin 'boy' in the bath, there was no denying the truth. The sight of Oliver in the tub, luxuriating in the hot water with her decidedly feminine curves no longer hidden beneath loose clothing, was seared into his brain for eternity.

He couldn't unsee the soft swell of her breasts or the delicate lines of her collarbones anymore than he could cut off his right hand. Even if he'd known she was a woman, seeing the evidence laid bare before his eyes had sent a jolt of desire through him unlike anything he'd experienced before.

She was dressed now, but the ill-fitting clothing did little to hide the truth of her femininity. The damp shirt clung to her curves, and the breeches hugged the swell of her hips. Her hair, damp from the bath, curled around her face in soft, dark tendrils. There was no mistaking the delicate features of her face, the softness of her skin, or the way her chest rose and fell with each nervous breath. She was, without a doubt, the most captivating woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

And he didn't even know her real name.

Shaking himself from his reverie, he smirked when Oliver still hadn't said a word. Shifting nervously from foot to foot, her gaze darted around the cabin, looking anywhere but at him.

"Well?" he prompted. "Are you not going to explain yourself?"

A rosy blush stained her cheeks, though whether from embarrassment or defiance, he couldn't tell. She lifted her chin, a stubborn set to her jaw even as her fingers twisted in the loose ends of her shirt.

"Captain, I..." She faltered, her voice wavering slightly. "I can explain."

"Can you now?" He arched a brow, fighting to keep his expression neutral despite the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside him. Excitement. Intrigue. Grudging admiration. And beneath it all, a traitorous thread of attraction he couldn't quite suppress. "This should be enlightening. Do go on."

A spark of annoyance flared in her eyes at his taunting tone, but she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. "I never meant to deceive you, Captain. Not truly. I just... I needed to get to America, and this was the only way I could without having to wait an age."

"The only way?" He scoffed. "Disguising yourself as a cabin boy and lying your way onto my ship was the only way? Forgive me if I find that hard to believe."

"You don't understand." Desperation edged her voice. "I had to—"

"Had to what?" He took a step closer, his tone sharpening. "Endanger yourself by taking on a job you had no experience doing? Did you give any thought to the danger you were putting yourself in? The risk to your reputation?"

"Yes. I never intended to put myself—or anyone else—at risk. But I needed passage. I thought if I could just make it to America before anyone found out..."

Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to decide if he was more exasperated at her disregard for the potential consequences or that she actually thought she could hide her true identity for an entire sea voyage.

"Why America?" he asked finally. "What's so important there that you would risk everything?"

"I told you. I'm visiting family. My nephew I never met."

"I remember. But really, Oliver... Your brother's widow couldn't arrange for a proper escort? The truth, please."

She bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the floor. "My reasons are my own. It hardly matters."

He wanted to argue that as the captain of the ship she boarded; it mattered to him, but mostly he just wanted to know. Wanted to unravel the mystery of this maddening, intriguing woman. His mind raced with possibilities for her true motives, trying to fit the pieces together. A single woman of what he suspected was good birth, desperate enough to embark on a dangerous masquerade for the sake of an urgent mission...

Realisation struck like a bolt of lightning. "You're going after someone, aren't you? A man."

The flicker of panic in her grey eyes was all the confirmation he needed. But who could possibly be worth such a risk? A secret lover? A scoundrel who'd compromised her?

"So that's it then?" He dragged a hand through his hair. A tangle of emotions twisted in his gut—anger at her recklessness, and a hot, irrational stab of jealousy he had no right to feel. "You're chasing after a man. Risking your life, your reputation, on a whim?"

"It's not a whim! I need to find him now, before—" She cut herself off, her cheeks flushing hot and her eyes burning with something he couldn't quite define. Determination, perhaps. Maybe love.

"Fine, don't tell me." He could figure it out for himself. There was only one reason he could think of that would send a woman chasing a man across the Atlantic—she needed him to marry her before it was too late. Maybe Oliver's seasickness in the early days hadn't been that at all.

The thought made his insides churn. This wasn't the revelation he'd hoped for when he "discovered" Oliver's true identity. Cursing under his breath, he turned away, bracing his hands on the edge of the table as he fought to master his racing thoughts.

"You... you won't send me back to England, will you?" Oliver's voice was low and hesitant behind him.

He sighed. The sensible thing would be to return her safely to London, where she belonged. And yet...

"I should," he said. "By all rights, I should turn this ship around and deliver you straight back to your family. But..." He trailed off, shaking his head ruefully. "We're already halfway to America. It would be a waste of time and resources to turn back now."

A hesitant smile touched her lips. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he muttered. "I don't know that I'm doing you a favour."

"You might not know, but you are." She took the steps separating them and placed her hand on his sleeve. Even through the fabric of his shirt and jacket, he could feel the warm weight of it, and his gaze met hers. She smiled. "Thank you. It means a lot to me."

"Don't mention it." Really. He wanted to hear nothing more of this. The idea of her chasing after another man rankled him far more than it should have. Needing some space, he took a step away from her, breaking their connection. Suddenly, the game he'd been playing didn't seem so fun anymore. The rest of the voyage not as appealing.

Pacing the length of the cabin, he pushed the thoughts away and focused on working out the logistics of their new situation. "You'll have to keep up your pretence," he said firmly. "The crew can't know the truth. It would cause chaos, and I won't have that on my ship. But in private..."

His gaze raked over her, taking in the way the damp shirt moulded to her body. Suddenly, his mouth felt dry. Damn, this would not be easy. "In private, there will be no more secrets between us."

She nodded. "N...no more secrets."

He moved closer again, closing the distance between them until he could feel the heat of her body, smell the clean scent of soap on her skin. Why was he torturing himself? But at least he wasn't the only one affected, as he heard her sharp inhale of breath as he lifted his hand to brush a curl back from her face, fastening it behind her ear.

"Let's start with your name," he murmured. "I can hardly keep calling you Oliver."

"It's O...Olivia," she stammered, clearly flustered by his sudden change in demeanour. "Miss Olivia Newton."

Searching his memory for the name, he couldn't think of a Newton family from when he used to attend the Season and other functions. "I don't believe I know your family," he said, wondering if she was perhaps not a part of the ton at all. "Unless you are related to Mr Newton who owns one of the merchant companies we ship for."

"He's my father." She smiled carefully. "As a gentleman who went into trade, he is not exactly welcomed by the ton, but I have attended several Seasons after being introduced by my mother. Her brother is the Duke of Ashbrook. But by the time I had my first season, you were already a captain and I don't think we ever met."

They had not. He definitely would have remembered meeting her. If she attended her first Season so late though... "How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-one."

That was a relief. He'd worried for a moment that he'd been toying with an eighteen-year-old. At twenty-one, she was already his junior by a decade, but it felt a little less awful than had she been someone fresh on the marriage mart.

"Twenty-one..." He frowned, staring down at her. "How are you not married yet?"

Her brows knit together as she glared back at him.

"That came out wrong." He mentally kicked himself for blurting the first thought that came to him. "It's just... You're a beautiful young woman and while your father is in trade, you have connections to a duke. You should have had suitors lining up to marry you."

A faint blush stained her cheeks. "You think I'm beautiful?"

Even though he knew better, he raised his hand to cup her cheek, his thumb reaching out to brush across her plump lower lip. God, how he wanted to taste her.

"Stunning," he said quietly. "I don't see how anyone can be so blind to think you're a boy."

Their gazes locked, and for a moment, they stared at each other as the air grew heavy between them. Then suddenly Olivia's eyes widened, and she stepped back.

"You knew!" The accusation was heavy in her voice. "How long? Did you know all along?"

Adrian debated lying and saying he'd only figured it out recently, but hadn't he just told her no more secrets between them?

"Yes," he admitted. "I recognised you almost immediately. When I went to get Ignacio from the Winterbournes', you were in the garden."

Her eyes flashed with indignation. "And all this time, you've been... what? Playing me for a fool?"

"No..."

"You didn't think to say anything?" She paced the cabin, her movements sharp and agitated. "I knew you were suspecting me. It became rather obvious recently, but I never imagined you knew from the start! You just let me go on, thinking I was fooling everyone, when all along you were laughing at me behind my back!"

"I wasn't laughing at you," Adrian interjected, his tone serious. "I was... intrigued. And yes, maybe it wasn't fair of me, but I wanted to understand why you were doing this. What could drive a young woman to such lengths?"

She whirled to face him, her eyes blazing. "So you decided to toy with me instead? To see how far I'd go? How much you could push me?"

"I..." Yes. He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. He deserved her ire. "I won't deny that I enjoyed our interactions. The challenge of it. But it wasn't just that. I was trying to keep you safe, too."

"Safe?" She scoffed. "How was letting me continue this charade keeping me safe?"

"Think about it." Stepping closer, he forced her to raise her chin to meet his gaze. "If I'd exposed you right away, what would have happened? You would have been left standing on the docks in London. Or if I'd waited until we set sail, the entire crew would have known. Your reputation would have been in tatters. This way, I could protect you while trying to understand your motivations."

Her anger seemed to deflate slightly, and she exhaled a quick puff of air. "I can't believe you've known all this time. The chess games. Our conversations..." Her eyes narrowed. "The bath."

It was impossible to hold back his grin at that point. "Well, by then I was fairly certain you knew I knew. I was trying to push you into confessing."

She let out a quiet chuckle. "And I was doing the same. But Captain... all the times you undressed in front of me. Was it all a test?"

He shrugged. It was probably the safest answer, but he couldn't help asking, "Would you not have done the same, had you been in my shoes? It was far too tempting."

Glancing at him, a wry smile tugged at her lips. "I might have. But that was wicked of you, Captain Warble. You are a very wicked man."

Oh, she had no idea how wicked he could be. How wicked he wanted to be. With her.

~~~~~~