Chapter 44

“Are you sore anywhere else?” The ties on their feet had been against the leather of their boots, but Markle could still be injured.

He mouthed, “No.”

“Because, if you’re hurt—”

His lips shaped the single word again.

Satisfied, Frye nodded. He finally let his hands trail down Markle’s arms. His skin was soft, not dried out from the rays of the sun. He’d never spent time in the boats, baking in the harsh sunlight. He’d been forced inside, his hands taught to thread needles, wash clothes, and strum instruments. That gave him a few callouses, but also a sure grip. Frye intended to put that to good use.

Frye lifted the hem of his shirt and pulled it from his shoulders. He tossed it beside Markle’s.