Pim caught my eye, her lips thinning.
Not looking away, I murmured, “Her name is Pimlico.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. A tight lasso of her energy and mine lashed us together. Would the unwanted connection between us ever go away?
Simo leaned forward and captured Pim’s unbroken hand.
I stiffened with possessiveness, watching what she would do. She barely tolerated anyone touching her—let alone a strange man.
She shocked me stupid as she tipped her nose at me and dropped into an effortless curtsy for his Royal Highness. His lips grazed the back of her knuckles.
What the fuck?
What sort of past had she lived to be more comfortable with men with titles than she was with the man who’d saved her?
“You are most welcome, my dear.” Simo breathed into the chaste kiss.
Pim tucked her chin, a demure smile on her face, taking her hand back once the introduction was complete.
My heart grabbed drumsticks and pounded on my ribcage.
What the hell was that?
Simo motioned to his wife. “This is my beloved Dina.” He beamed with husband pride. “I’m sure she would be grateful for female company and conversation.”
Pim’s eyes met the woman’s.
I held my breath, wondering if this was the moment she spoke. She’d slapped me in the face by giving respect to a man she’d only just met, perhaps she’d claw out my heart by speaking to a woman she didn’t know.
To hear her voice was a tantalizing thought, even if it would fuck me off. How dare she give that gift to complete strangers rather than me?
When I’d told her she could come with me, I hadn’t contemplated the idea she would talk. That her tongue would be healed enough to spill my secrets and inform those who should never know that I’d stolen her. That it was fully within my power to free her, but I wouldn’t until I got what I wanted.
Instead of airing our sinful laundry, she glanced at me then dropped her gaze.
The drumsticks stopped playing death metal against my ribs—for the time being.
This meeting was already too long, and we’d only just begun.
Taking a collected breath, I smiled at Simo and his family, answering on Pim’s behalf. “I’m afraid she doesn’t speak. She’s mute.”
Not quite, but it was easier than the truth. Far simpler than to explain her half-severed tongue and the bruises only just beginning to fade beneath her dress.
Pim didn’t give any outward reaction to my delivery of her ‘condition.’ If anything, she looked mildly relieved that she could be a voyeur but not participate.
Her eyes weren’t passive, though. She might be silent, but she wasn’t stupid. Her attention flickered between His Highness and his wife, drawing conclusions far too astute for a stolen slave.
Watching her watch them gave me a hint of how hard she would be to break. How everything I did, every vowel I uttered and every syllable I whispered was armament in her weaponry against me.
Christ, will I ever get what I want?
Dina nodded at Pim, woman to woman. “I think that’s impressive—not to talk, I mean.” Her voice was sweet and respectful. “Men talk so much these days. I often feel like a mute myself.”
Pim gave her a rare smile, letting it reach her eyes and transforming her from sad wraith to brilliant beauty.
Once again, she stole a heartbeat. I glowered at her for such sorcery.
Not once had she looked at me that way.
Not once had she deemed me worthy of such a gift.
My shoulders tensed as anger percolated like rich coffee in my blood. She wanted to punish me? Fucking fine. I’m willing to change the rules of this game.
“Should we get down to business?” Simo asked.
I nodded as two waitresses brought over a tray of local beverages and finger food.
Forcing my mind away from Pim and ideas of how to earn a smile like the one she’d just bestowed, I rubbed at the unwanted tightness in my chest, pulled out my phone, and got to work.
* * * * *
Three hours and multiple revisions to the yacht schematics later, we were done. My back ached from reaching across the table to reveal updated plans. Luckily, my phone had a self-designed software that made it easy to tweak frivolous requests while important things like water displacement and ballast were all mathematically checked in the background.
Pimlico obviously hadn’t said a word during the meeting, but she’d struck up a strange friendship with Dina.
While Simo and I muttered about incandescent bulbs versus the merit of LED and argued over what wood would be best in the library, Pim never took her eyes off Dina or her children.
The kids, sensing a willing victim, kept plying Pim with curried couscous on fresh pita, presented with fingers covered in sauce.
Not once did Pim refuse their offering, but she did struggle to eat. Shouldn’t her tongue be mostly healed by now? I’d already set a reminder to ask Michaels when we returned home.