The room was clearly Tristan’s library-study. Shelvesof books lined the walls, and various chairs and tables filled the space.
Desperate to put some space between them, Harriet tugged her hand free and strode into the center of the room where a wide leather-topped desk held court. A large terrestrial globe stood by the fire and she hurried over to it, feigning interest in the seas and continents caught up in the elegant net of latitude and longitude.
Her heart was pounding quite alarmingly in her chest. They were indisputably alone, and she had no idea what wickedness Morgan had planned, but she couldn’t deny she was looking forward to whatever it was. She could be sailing toward triumph or disaster, but being with him was the best kind of adventure.
He leaned back against the door. “It’s time for kiss number two, Harriet. I bet you’ve been wondering where it’s going to be.”
“I hadn’t given it much thought.”
“Reall-l-ly?” He drew the word out just long enough to underscore his skepticism.
“Yes, really. I’ve been busy.”
“Poring over those naughty prints I gave you, I hope?”
Heat scalded her cheeks and he chuckled as he pushed himself off the door and stalked toward her.
“But before we get to that, I’d like to tell you about a maritime tradition. It’s rather apt, considering Carys’s choice of décor for the ballroom. And your own choice of costume.”
“I’m the first woman to circumnavigate the world.”
“Of course you are. And as such,” he continued silkily, “you would certainly have crossed the equator. Which means you should have taken part in a ‘crossing the line’ ceremony.”
Harriet wrinkled her nose. “What’s that?”
“An initiation all ‘griffins’—that’s sailors who’ve never crossed the equator before—must complete to be inducted into the solemn mysteries of the deep. And to gain the respect of their peers.”
“I don’t—”
His expression was pure challenge. “Come, now. You’re always saying how much you want a taste of adventure.”
Harriet swallowed the nervous lump that formed in her throat as he stepped closer.
“What precisely does this ceremony entail?”
He reached down and untied the black silk scarf that wound around his waist in lieu of a belt. The suggestive, slightly menacing way he slid the silk through his hands was both a threat and a promise. Her heart gave another excited jolt.
“Well, first of all the griffins are put in the lower deck and the hatches battened down. One by one, they’re stripped, blindfolded, and led up to the deck to face the Ruler of the Deep, King Neptune himself.”
She reared back in alarm. “You’re not strippingme!”
“Of course not. But you need to be blindfolded if you want to prove yourself worthy of sailing across Neptune’s realm.”
Her instinctive retreat was stopped by the giant globe behind her. This was utterly ridiculous. She didn’t want or need his respect. And yet a wicked, excited kind of fever was taking hold of her. She didn’t want to stop.
Morgan reached out and tugged the woolen cap from her head, releasing the tendrils of hair she’d tucked underneath. He stepped closer, and her entire body tensed as if preparing to flee. Or to fight.
She did neither.
He loomed over her, deliciously close. “Are you going to cry off?”
She narrowed her eyes at his taunting. She should say yes. Make him leave. Stop this madness.
But the words froze on her tongue. She’d never been able to tell this man no.
“You can’t blame me for feeling a certain amount of… trepidation,” she breathed.
He shook his head, as if disappointed in her cowardice. “A ship in the harbor is safe, but ships aren’t built to stay in port. They’re built to explore. They’re strong enough to face the fiercest of storms. Bebrave, Montgomery. Set sail.”
