by Alex Lidell
I look up at Domenic. He looms over me, still as a statue. He doesn’t even clear his throat.
“I did what I had to do.” My words crack through the silence. I brace my palms on my hips. Sometimes the best defense is a bloody fast offense. “And before you launch into dramatics, note that if we are to tally offenses, we can start with Hope’s black-wallet runs in our convoy, the stockpiles of oversupplies, and lack of patrols we are theoretically doing.” My ankle buckles, spoiling the force of my words.
Domenic’s hand shoots out to my elbow, steadying me before I fall. His face remains stone as I struggle to conceal my wince, but it’s plain that I must lean on him heavily just to remain upright. He gives no sign of noticing that either.
“And what of repercussions?” Domenic’s voice is rough. “Or does your righteousness shield those from view?”
I blow out a long breath. “I decided I’d rather face your wrath in a bay than risk catastrophic weather in open sea.”
“My wrath?” He shakes me. Hard. “You are bloody smarter than that, Nile. I can make your life temporarily miserable, but you damn well know that I won’t make you dead. You think Captain Rima would extend you the same courtesy?”
The intensity of his expression chokes my retort. I don’t actually know what Rima would have done if he’d not had the idea to paint the events into a legend of his heroics. I sigh and look down. “I know I gambled. I know you disapprove. I know the storm I was hedging against was never in the wind. And no, I little considered the repercussions of success. Only those of failure.” I pull back my shoulders with as much dignity as I can muster standing on one leg and meet Domenic’s intense gaze. I need him to hear me. To understand. “But I stand by my actions. They were the right ones to take, given what I knew at the time. I will offer no apology for them, as I’d make the same decision again.”
The muscles on the side of Domenic’s jaw tense, but no words come.
“What now?” I ask quietly.
He swallows. “I don’t know.”
I stare. I’d braced myself for fury and ultimatums, for the dressing-down of my life. But the uncertainty strikes deeper. It is so very difficult to battle Domenic when he’s human. I’ve undercut him. And that I regret more than I can express. “I’ll accept what punishment you wish.” My words sound hollow, but I don’t know what else to offer.
His eyes tighten. “You know what the naval punishment is.”
Blood drains from my face. I hold his gaze. The air between us is hot, too hot. The rise and fall of his chest too pronounced. “Is that what you want?”
“No.” He sucks in a breath. “Storms, no.”
“Thank the waves,” I whisper. I need to pull away and clear my head, but my treacherous body keeps me rooted in place. Then another thought cuts me, one that I’d not considered before and that scares me as much as Domenic’s threat had. “Will Rima punish you for my actions?”
He shrugs one shoulder, but then his brows press together. “Rima is no fool. He knows you are involved, and there will be repercussions for manipulating his ship. Even more so if he believes he can punish me through hurting you.”
The question tumbles from my mouth before I can think. “Would he be right?”
Domenic’s hand slides along my shoulder. Beneath his shirt, muscles shift and flow. We are so close, I can feel his heart. Or maybe it’s my own. He tilts his face down, serious and intense. “Yes, he would.”
The words burn in my chest like whiskey. Warm and exciting. And frightening. I’ve never been this close to a man before. Not this way.
I put my hands on his chest. Where they don’t bloody belong. Because touching Domenic is stupid and wrong, no matter how right it feels. But my palms are already pressing into him. And I’m trembling. And he knows it.
Fear jolts from my fingertips into my stomach. I’ve just given Domenic the power to tear me open with a single word, and I cannot let that happen. I must undo this. I have to do something. Now. Quickly.
I shove him.
Domenic rocks back on his heels but keeps his balance. His brow rises. “You do realize you will fall if I release you, right?”
“I…” Oh storms and hail. I’m three kinds of idiot. Domenic had just been holding me up, nothing more. The inches between us are as insurmountable as they’ve always been. As they should be. He’s my superior, and, unlike me, Domenic never intended to stray from the duty of his station. “I’m sorry. I intended nothing.”
“You shoved me away by accident?”
“No.” I squeeze my eyes shut as heat rushes to my face and try to think of something calm. Like a hurricane. “Yes. I don’t know, damn you.”
“Do you wish me to leave?” he asks gently.
I shake my head, unable to form words. At least I manage to get my eyes open again.
Domenic nods and raises his fingers to my face. Slowly, as if handling a feral cat, his hand brushes my hair. My cheekbone. My jaw.
I stand as still as I can. The feral cat analogy isn’t far wrong.
“You are shaking,” he says softly.
Clearly, shaking is not the appropriate response. I’m doing this all wrong. For the first time in my life, I am the girl someone wants. I want to savor the illusion for every breath that it lasts, and instead I’m ruining it. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s supposed to happen next.”
He chuckles. “There is no standard procedure.”
I try a smile. It feels good.
Domenic cups his hands behind my head and leans forward until our foreheads rest against each other. A shared strength. I lean into him. My heart beats as quickly as if facing battle. Quicker. I know what to expect in combat.
His hand trails from my hair, sweeping away my braid, to my shoulders. My arms. Snaking down my back. I arch into him. His body is hard, his chest unyielding. I bring my own hand around his waist, the cut of his abdomen plain beneath my fingers. Waves, the man is—
Domenic leans closer, and my breath and thoughts still.
His lips brush mine. Soft at first, then confident. Demanding.
My lips part for him.
Domenic pulls me closer, the hand on the small of my back tightening possessively. His tongue caresses the inside of my mouth, tasting and savoring and—
My own mouth responds, the warmth exploding through my skin. Domenic’s musky briny scent, like the ocean brimming at high tide, fills my nose. The booming rhythm of my heart drowns everything on this ship, everything except the powerful hold of his arms, the insistent press of his mouth, and the desperate answer of mine.
We pull apart, panting, staring at each other. Domenic raises his face toward the overhead beams, his whole body rigid as he forces his breath to slow and deepen. “Storms and hail,” he whispers into the gloom of the hold.
I swallow. Storms and hail indeed.
Domenic’s gaze returns to me, his hand sliding down my jawline, lifting my face until—
Footsteps, hurrying, clanking down the ladder toward us.
Domenic and I freeze, our breaths racing. With the next heartbeat, we spring apart. Domenic’s retreat is controlled, but I throw myself at the nearby barrels so hard I nearly topple both them and myself to the ground. My ankle roars its protest. I hate this damn ship that refuses to let me have this moment.
Then Catsper is there, his eyes filled with rage I’d never seen on his beautiful face. “Get your ass to the infirmary, Dana,” he says with lethal quiet. “The Spades just found Kederic beaten unconscious.”
Domenic freezes, his gaze meeting the marine’s. “Rima,” he says quietly.
My hand slackens, blood draining from my face. A word Domenic said but minutes ago—a lifetime ago—burns my memory. Repercussions have begun
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Nile’s adventure continues in WAR AND WIND: TIDES Book 2
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About the Author
Alex Lidell is the Amazon Breakout Novel Awards finalist author of THE CADET OF TILDOR (Penguin, 2013). She is an avid horseback rider, a (bad) hockey player, and an ice-cream addict. Born in Russia, Alex learned English in elementary school, where a thoughtful librarian placed a copy of Tamora Pierce’s ALANNA in Alex’s hands. In addition to becoming the first English book Alex read for fun, ALANNA started Alex’s life long love for YA fantasy books. Alex is represented by Leigh Feldman of Leigh Feldman Literary. She lives in Washington, DC. Join Alex's newsletter for news, bonus content and sneak peeks: www.subscribepage.com/TIDES Find out more on Alex's website: www.alexlidell.com
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Acknowledgments
TIDES was made possible by the amazing team of authors, editors, friends, and family who made the journey with me. A special shout-out to my critique partner, Marieke Nijkamp, who followed TIDES’s creation chapter by chapter; Rachel E. Carter, who guided my journey; Jenn Stark, whose wisdom morphed TIDES into a series; my agent, Leigh Feldman, who kept me writing; editors Mollie Traver and Linda Ingmanson, who manned the plotting helm; the Lucky 13s, who are always there; the amazing writers in the AYAA forum; and to my mom, who is the most awesome mom ever.
Also by Alex Lidell
TIDES
FIRST COMMAND (Prequel Novella)
AIR AND ASH (TIDES Book I)
WAR AND WIND (TIDES Book II)
TILDOR
THE CADET OF TILDOR
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