Nick froze, dead in place.
His gaze locked with Georgia's. Those piercing, storm-swept eyes, silvery gray with just the faintest flicker of icy blue. Like a dagger dipped in frost. He was hypnotized.
Then, like a slow, spiraling descent into hell, his eyes drifted down to her nose… and then to her lips.
Parted, breathless, flushed.
'Shit!' he screamed in his mind.
He could feel the ghost of her warm breath fanning across his mouth, and instinct snapped his gaze back to hers, just in time to catch one perfectly arched brow rise in slow, sarcastic judgment.
His confusion must've shown on his face, because what came next slapped harder than the North Sea in winter.
"Maniac!" she declared, ice in her tone.
Nick flinched like she'd slapped him with a frozen fish. "What—?" his hands instantly clenched as anger started to boil his blood at her accusation once again.
That's when he felt it. Something soft. Plush. Very not a pillow or a mattress under his hand.
His head dropped like a guillotine blade, fast and sharp. His eyes locked on his right hand, which was currently cupping Georgia's left breast like he was holding a fragile fruit from the gods.
His soul left his body. But his body betrayed him. He was as hard as rock in an instant… down there.
Eyes bulging, jaw dropping, brain short-circuiting, Nick choked on a curse. "Fuck."
Too bad he whispered it directly into Georgia's face.
Her eyes flared in disbelief. There it is. The volcano exploded.
Right as he tried to yank his hand away like it had caught fire, the door burst open with the worst possible timing.
"Am I interrupting something?" the chief steward asked, raising a judgmental brow and a coffee mug in one hand and a pile of clothes in the other.
Both Nick and Georgia's heads snapped toward her, right before Georgia's knee rocketed upward like a heat-seeking missile.
Bullseye!
Nick collapsed like a bag of wet cement, groaning as the pain hit him. "Son of a—"
Georgia didn't even flinch. She shoved him back with enough force to roll him onto his side, then dropped painfully to the floor.
"How dare you touch me, you Captain Pervert! Murderer!" she hissed like a vengeful sea witch.
Nick wheezed in pain, clutching his groin. "I saved your life…"
"You killed my brother, and then you touched me!" she snapped.
The chief steward slowly backed out of the doorway, muttering, "Yep. Definitely disturbed something here. I'll give you some space. You know where to find me, Captain." The door closed.
Nick groaned again from the floor. "You're evil! Fuck!" he tried to speak even under the immense pain. "Told you, I didn't kill David!"
Nick dragged himself toward the sofa, each inch a battlefield as sweat poured down his face. His breath hitched, jaw clenched, and his voice rasped out through the pain.
"I didn't mean to touch you," he ground out, eyes flashing. "It was an accident, alright?! You were burning up with fever last night, thrashing like hell while I was trying to settle you into bed. If you hadn't struggled so damn much—none of that would've happened!"
He stopped, his chest rising and falling, but only for a breath.
"I swear to God. To my mother. And to my poor balls, you just assaulted—I didn't kill your brother. I didn't kill anyone!" he roared, pain and fury spilling from his voice.
Georgia didn't flinch, but she pressed her lips together, hard, and bit her tongue, trying to stifle a smile at his remark.
Her hands went to her waist, eyes sharp as blades. "But you know Nancy. Don't you dare deny it. I saw the way your face twitched the moment I said her name."
Nick froze, just for a second. A flicker of something dark passed in his eyes.
"Yes," he said, jaw tightening. "I know her. But knowing her doesn't make me a killer." His voice was bitter and razor-edged.
"And you can cut the dramatics. Everyone knows that woman! I bet she fucks every sailor and businessmen that she meets!"
That landed like a slap. Georgia blinked. The sheer contempt in his voice made something in her chest loosen… if only for a second.
Nick leaned back against the couch, still grimacing in pain.
"So if you're going to accuse me of something, at least have a reason that doesn't sound like a telenovela script," he muttered.
But Georgia's mind was spinning now, because if he was telling the truth… The things that she just did and said to him were utterly embarrassing and humiliating.
She gulped and stared at him, guilt starting to creep in. Her eyes flicked to a bottle of water sitting on the dresser. She pointed at it tentatively.
"D-Do y-you… want some water?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, then bit her lip nervously.
Nick shot her a glare like she'd just offered him poison.
"No, MISS!" he snapped, rolling his eyes dramatically. "No bottle of water on this cursed planet can ease this kind of pain."
He scoffed, clutching his midsection. "Don't play the shy card now—not after you punched, threw pillows and my stuff to me, and kicked me in the crown jewels like I was a damn criminal!"
His voice climbed, righteous fury pouring out. "You didn't even thank me! Not one damn word of gratitude!"
He stood up, wobbly, but determined. "Do you even know what I did last night? I jumped off a moving fucking ship! A MOVING. FUCKING. SHIP! Just to save your freezing ass from drowning!"
He gestured wildly, limping slightly. "I shattered every damn protocol in the book! Broke radio silence, disobeyed direct maritime procedure, got soaking wet, dragged you from the depths of Poseidon's pisshole—and for what?"
He pointed at himself, indignant. "For this! For a sleepless night babysitting a feverish stranger, only to wake up being verbally abused and physically assaulted by the same ungrateful, bratty, beautiful—"
He stopped.
Both stared at each other. His glare wavered.
"…woman!" he muttered with finality, scowling as he dropped onto the couch with a groan.
He continued, but his voice is calmer now. "The least you could say is sorry, instead of offering me that damn water…"