The Captain's Lady by Lorhainne Eckhart

gaze, brown eyes widening. “Oh no, you're not thinking what I think you're thinking. Are you thinking about marrying the girl?"
    Faced with the conscious realization of where his words were leading, Eric shoved his fingers through his hair, turned and paced six feet away. And stopped. Before now he was not willing to say it aloud; hearing Joe speak it gave a voice to the repressed feelings.
    He turned and remained standing where he was. “I will do what I need to do to protect her."
    Eric forced a composed façade then closed the distance to his friend. Eager to change the subject he waved a dismissive hand. “Look, we don't even know if things will get that far. So do me a favor and drop it.” He almost added, and keep it quiet . He would have said those words to anyone else, but Joe was the soul of discretion.
    Eric began pacing the floor again, hands linked behind his back, hyper-aware of the eyes burning into his spine.
    "I've never seen you like this. You have never been this drawn to a woman. Please explain to me why you would want to tie yourself to this young, and don't forget, pregnant, lady?"
    Eric winced at the more-than-accurate description. “Yeah, I know. She's young..."
    "And pretty."
    Eric shot him a glare. “There's something about her.” He threw up his hands, palms up. “I can't explain it. I've never been this drawn to a woman.” He heard his tone soften. To cover it, he leveled an honest gaze at Joe while sucking in a deep breath. How to explain that it was more than likely he was finally being honest with himself?
    He dropped his hand to his sides. “I don't know if it's because of what's she's been through, but we have a connection I can't explain. She wants and needs my protection. We have similar pasts, a lot more in common than even she knows yet. I had the admiral's aide dig into her past. He came up with more than I expected. It's personal and it's private; I haven't shared it with anyone."
    "Nothing bad, I assume."
    "No. Just a lot of things in conjunction with my life.” He remembered the painful tightening he'd gotten in his chest while reading the detailed report.
    She'd been raised by the paternal grandmother who'd passed away last year, of heart failure, at the age of 79;, the mother, Jean Carlton, a heroin addict, whereabouts unknown, had abandoned her daughter as an infant of three months. Abby's birth certificate clearly stated: father unknown. There were no known relatives. She did not go to college. Instead, after graduating high school, she took a job in a local bookstore off South Main Street in Seattle.
    The grandmother had owned a small house, which Abby sold after the woman's death. After quitting her job and selling her car, she rented a storage locker for the few items she kept from the house.
    In May of 2003, she'd purchased a one-way ticket to London on Pan Am and traveled for a few weeks. The last known report was a hotel in Paris, the Hotel Europe Liege. Hotel records showed her checking in August 10 and leaving an unpaid bill of 226.34 US before disappearing on August 16. They packed up her possessions, storing them with security, waiting for her to settle the outstanding amount.
    After three months, when they hadn't heard from her, the hotel gave the items to charity. The hotel filed a police report that she left without paying the bill. No one had filed a missing person's report on her.
    Anger had consumed him on learning this. Why would they just assume she left all her belongings behind? Did this sort of thing happen often? Or were they, as so many people were, without the slightest bit of concern for her wellbeing? It was as if they were erasing her entire existence.
    Shaking his head to clear the jumbled thoughts, he turned back to Joe. “What about Seyed Hossein?"
    "Now this is speculation, but we narrowed down his activities. In the Gulf a week ago, they were going out at night, possibly targeting military ships in the area. Unfortunately, Edwin's