Sonya stood to face him. His expression displayed a mix of irritation and amusement. “I know the concept of a hard day’s work is difficult for you to understand, pirate, and you’re functioning on a damaged moral compass—”
“My moral compass may be damaged, but at least I’m not a slave to my baser needs.”
She stilled. “And you’re saying I am.”
“You are a demon after all. Your kind are notorious for their debauchee and barbarous natures.”
She choked out a laugh, “My people are barbarous?”
“You said it.”
“And this coming from a pirate.”
“You know nothing of it!” he snapped.
“And you know nothing of me!”
“I know more than you think. And even if I didn’t, I had you pegged purely by the manner in which you dress yourself.”
That gave her pause and she resisted the urge to look down at herself. Her outfit was no more revealing than any other female on the ship. In fact, compared to some, she could be considered downright modest. Her skirts, she had to admit, were on the short side, but that was only to accommodate her tail, and nobody had ever commented on it before. Not that it mattered what anyone else thought of her, especially not some hypocritical pirate.
“Get out of my pub before I smash your face into the wall,” she hissed.
Instead, he took a step closer, goading her. Something in that action fired her blood in a way she’d never felt, and the pace of her heart increased with a surge of excitement. Sonya was used to people backing down when she issued a threat, they never willingly opened themselves up for attack.
She tilted her head at him with renewed interest.