The deck slanted, and he balanced his boots over the planks, his gaze landing on the Bible atop his desk.Lord, grant me Your wisdom.Does the lady bring good or evil, and what is to be done with her?He lifted up the prayer, though he expected no answer.Heaven had been silent for too long.
“What is the name of this ship?”she asked.
Her question spun him around.“TheSentinel.But then I sense you already know that.”If, indeed, the woman had stowed aboard.
At the name, a wave of unmistakable shock traveled across her face.Her brow folded and her breathing seemed to increase.Perhaps she had no clue what ship she’d boarded, after all.Even so, why would the name invoke such a response?
He grew weary of this mad subterfuge.“Enough!”he shouted a bit louder than he intended.
The lady flinched.
“Tell me how you came to be aboard my ship and for what purpose, or I will have no choice but to lock you in the hold.”
♥
From the look in the captain’s stormy gray-blue eyes, Desi knew his threat was real.As real as the shifting deck beneath her feet and the whisk of wind against the stern windows.As real as the creak and groan of timbers and scent of spice and wood and salt permeating the cabin.
TheSentinel!The ship Pops had told her about, the one that sank in the Bermuda Triangle with a timeless treasure aboard that would “change her life”.Or so he’d said.The one she’d promised him she’d find.
But how could that be?Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to think, to reason, to make sense of what was happening.
No time for that, however, as the captain’s boots thundered across the deck.She flung her eyes open and answered him in haste.“I don’t know.I swear.I have no idea how I came here.If I did, I would tell you.”
He halted.The rage in his eyes abated, assessing her, seeking any hint of untruth.“What is this black skin you wear?”
She almost laughed.But then again, if shewasin the past… “It’s called a wetsuit.We wear it for diving as insulation and protection.”
“What is this insulation?”He scratched the stubble on his jaw.
“You really don’t know?”
His eyes never left hers, impatience growing within them.
“It keeps the body warm in cold water.”She nibbled on her bottom lip, if only to ease her nerves.“What year is this?”
Growling, he raked back his hair.“Madness!The year of our Lord seventeen hundred and eighteen, as well you know.”
All strength fled her, turning her legs into pudding and her mind into mush.She felt herself start to fall.
Strong arms caught her, held her steady, shifting her weight onto his.His scent of salted leather, bay rum, and something smoky she couldn’t place surrounded her, evoking a sense of protection, a memory of safety and love she’d only felt in her dreams.A jolt shimmied down her body.
He must have felt it too.Confusion lined his brow.He jerked from her as if she were too hot to touch, then backed away, his boots thudding over the wooden deck, his absence leaving an eerie chill that scraped over her.
The cat awoke, stretched out its paws, and gazed at Desi curiously with one eye.A black hole appeared where the other should be.Moving off the bed, it leapt onto the captain’s desk, and he stroked its fur affectionately.A man who loved cats couldn’t be all that bad, could he?
She lifted her chin.“You know my name now.What is yours?”
He gripped the hilt of his sword, saying nothing at first.The man’s presence was overpowering.Like nothing she’d felt before—commanding, intense, passionate.Thickly muscled and standing well over six feet, he was the epitome of women’s dreams, a hero from days of old.And if she weren’t so frightened, he might take her breath away.But looks could be deceiving.And she was no fragile damsel in distress.
“Captain Caleb Hyde,” he finally answered.
“Are you a pirate?”
Huffing, he grinned.“Nay.Though I hail from a family of pirates.Perhaps you’ve heard of my father, Alexander Merrick, Viscount Hyde, and my grandfather Captain Merrick Hyde, Earl of Clarendon?”
From his tone, it was obvious the man was proud of his noble heritage, but in all her historical research, she’d never read about a pirate earl.“No, I’m sorry.”
Frowning, he swung about, circled his desk, and strode back to the windows.The cat followed, plopping into a patch of warm sunlight.Desi glanced behind her.She could easily open the door and escape.But where to?Instead, she glanced about the room, ever as masculine, orderly, and commanding as its owner.
