America to the mother country, while warding off a horde of swashbuckling, rip-roaring pirates.
At first Jase helped her, patiently explaining what to do. She found it easy enough to follow his instructions and soon got the idea. She knew he was holding off at first, letting her get the hang of the game, but once she managed to disable the pirate ship with a direct hit from her cannons, her competitive streak took over and she leaned forward in her seat, intent on using everything Jase had taught her in a determined effort to destroy the enemy.
Of course Jase won, but she had bloodied him and killed half his crew.
“Not bad for a beginner,” he said as he leaned back after capturing the Spanish ship and surrounding her “avatar,” alias the Spanish captain, with a bunch of fierce and victorious pirates. “I’m afraid your only choice now is surrender.”
“Not on your life.”
“It’s your life that’s at stake,” he said.
“I won’t give in. I’m sure the captain would accept death rather than give up his ship.”
“He’s already lost that,” Jase pointed out.
“But not his self-respect. Go on. Do your worst.”
Jase lounged in a corner of the sofa, his eyes alert and watchful beneath half-closed lids. He said softly, “I don’t want to put a sword through your heart, Samantha.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
H IS lopsided grin was teasing, but effortlessly sexy, and his tone had changed. Samantha met his eyes, saw unmistakable desire in them and her heart took a startled leap into her throat.
She swallowed, then said huskily, “Aren’t you supposed to give me a chance? Set me adrift in a ship’s boat or something?”
He laughed, a little ruefully, and the heat left his eyes. “Pirates were a pretty ruthless lot. Is a slow death by starvation and thirst better than a quick one by the sword?” He pressed a switch and the screen went blank. He said, “It’s a nice day outside. We could take a walk across the farm. There’s a bit of bush, with a waterfall and a deep pool. We could even swim if you like.”
“I don’t think so.”
“It’d be quite safe, I promise.”
Safe? Nothing about being with Jase Moore felt safe. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Afraid of getting out of your depth?” His eyes challenged her.
“I didn’t think you were serious—about swimming.”
He laughed again at her evasion. “A walk then,” he said. “Are you up for that?”
She should say no, tell him she wanted to go home. Backto the city and her apartment where she could close herself off in her own small world. Where no one dared her to step outside her comfort zone and into new experiences, or delved behind the surface of her carefully cultivated social face to stir up the emotions beneath.
Yet something held her, a feeling that maybe she’d regret taking the coward’s way out.
Perhaps sensing her ambivalence, Jase said, “It’ll be good for you. Country air.”
Jase took her hand to help her over a stile that spanned an electrified fence. He kept his fingers wrapped around hers as they skirted cowpats and tiny blue and salmon-pink wildflowers peeking through the grass. She didn’t object. The ground was uneven and she didn’t want to trip and make a fool of herself. And, honesty whispered, she liked the feel of his strong hand holding hers.
He paused to attack a thistle with the heel of his boot, cutting it off ruthlessly at the root. He’d been brought up on farms and she supposed such things were second nature to him. A wind had sprung up, lifting Samantha’s hair from the back of her neck, and blowing it round her face. She put a hand up to clear her eyes.
A grazing herd of white-faced black cattle stopped to stare in a solid phalanx at the intruders walking past. They looked so comical that Samantha laughed, still trying to deal with her hair. Jase smiled down at her and his hand tightened slightly on hers.
Eventually they entered a gully fenced off from the pasture land, their
At first Jase helped her, patiently explaining what to do. She found it easy enough to follow his instructions and soon got the idea. She knew he was holding off at first, letting her get the hang of the game, but once she managed to disable the pirate ship with a direct hit from her cannons, her competitive streak took over and she leaned forward in her seat, intent on using everything Jase had taught her in a determined effort to destroy the enemy.
Of course Jase won, but she had bloodied him and killed half his crew.
“Not bad for a beginner,” he said as he leaned back after capturing the Spanish ship and surrounding her “avatar,” alias the Spanish captain, with a bunch of fierce and victorious pirates. “I’m afraid your only choice now is surrender.”
“Not on your life.”
“It’s your life that’s at stake,” he said.
“I won’t give in. I’m sure the captain would accept death rather than give up his ship.”
“He’s already lost that,” Jase pointed out.
“But not his self-respect. Go on. Do your worst.”
Jase lounged in a corner of the sofa, his eyes alert and watchful beneath half-closed lids. He said softly, “I don’t want to put a sword through your heart, Samantha.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
H IS lopsided grin was teasing, but effortlessly sexy, and his tone had changed. Samantha met his eyes, saw unmistakable desire in them and her heart took a startled leap into her throat.
She swallowed, then said huskily, “Aren’t you supposed to give me a chance? Set me adrift in a ship’s boat or something?”
He laughed, a little ruefully, and the heat left his eyes. “Pirates were a pretty ruthless lot. Is a slow death by starvation and thirst better than a quick one by the sword?” He pressed a switch and the screen went blank. He said, “It’s a nice day outside. We could take a walk across the farm. There’s a bit of bush, with a waterfall and a deep pool. We could even swim if you like.”
“I don’t think so.”
“It’d be quite safe, I promise.”
Safe? Nothing about being with Jase Moore felt safe. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Afraid of getting out of your depth?” His eyes challenged her.
“I didn’t think you were serious—about swimming.”
He laughed again at her evasion. “A walk then,” he said. “Are you up for that?”
She should say no, tell him she wanted to go home. Backto the city and her apartment where she could close herself off in her own small world. Where no one dared her to step outside her comfort zone and into new experiences, or delved behind the surface of her carefully cultivated social face to stir up the emotions beneath.
Yet something held her, a feeling that maybe she’d regret taking the coward’s way out.
Perhaps sensing her ambivalence, Jase said, “It’ll be good for you. Country air.”
Jase took her hand to help her over a stile that spanned an electrified fence. He kept his fingers wrapped around hers as they skirted cowpats and tiny blue and salmon-pink wildflowers peeking through the grass. She didn’t object. The ground was uneven and she didn’t want to trip and make a fool of herself. And, honesty whispered, she liked the feel of his strong hand holding hers.
He paused to attack a thistle with the heel of his boot, cutting it off ruthlessly at the root. He’d been brought up on farms and she supposed such things were second nature to him. A wind had sprung up, lifting Samantha’s hair from the back of her neck, and blowing it round her face. She put a hand up to clear her eyes.
A grazing herd of white-faced black cattle stopped to stare in a solid phalanx at the intruders walking past. They looked so comical that Samantha laughed, still trying to deal with her hair. Jase smiled down at her and his hand tightened slightly on hers.
Eventually they entered a gully fenced off from the pasture land, their
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