The Pirate's Tempting Stowaway by Erica Ridley Page B

Somewhere close enough to let her visit her daughter without being underfoot—or vice versa.  
    Somerset might be a nice place to start a home. Perhaps some evening, a dashing gentleman with a romantic soul would sweep Clara into his arms for a waltz that would last the rest of their lives. A solid, stable future, where she never again had to be far from Grace or fear for the safety of a loved one. What she’d dreamed of.
    A month or two from now, Clara would have completely forgotten any interest she’d once had in Captain Blackheart.
    Possibly.  
    And if not, well…she’d have her own space in a pretty cottage with a view of the sea. ’Twas what she had wanted. It would have to be enough.
    Her heart clenched. She wouldn’t think of tomorrow. Today was all that mattered.
    She was leaning against the mast at the front of the ship when the cry came from overhead.
    “Land, ho!”
    Nothing but blue waves and even bluer sky surrounded them.
    She dashed forward to press herself against the rail, heedless of the spray of saltwater on her face or the way the wind whipped her hair free from its pins to wave behind her like an extra sail.
    There. The barest smudge rising from the water blended with the promise of a storm upon the horizon.
    An island.
    A warm hand touched her back, then just as quickly fell away. Steele stood next to her, gazing out into the ocean.
    “Clara.” He turned to face her. “I need you to—”
    “‘Stay put,’ as the Americans say.” She kept her eyes on his. “Yes. I know.”
    His jaw hardened. “More than stay behind. You may need to hide.”
    “I’ll lock myself in your cabin if necessary.”
    “No. Somewhere else.” His expression was hard. “The cabin is the first place they’ll look.”
    She frowned. “The first place who will look?”
    “Whoever is on that island.” He turned his gaze back to the horizon.  
    The jut of land and trees grew more distinct with each passing moment. Clara presumed she should be scared, but instead she felt invigorated. She’d thought cleaving to humble anonymity was what had made twenty lonely years bearable, but she’d been wrong.  
    This was living. Her hair in snarls, her dress whipping behind her, her heartbeat racing as the schooner sped toward shore. She’d lived more in the past few months than she had in the past two decades.  
    It wouldn’t last. Nothing this exhilarating possibly could. But oh how she enjoyed being along for the adventure!
    She turned toward Steele.  
    He captured her face in his hands and crushed his lips to hers.
    Pleasure rushed through her as she surrendered her mouth. Her heart. The man drove her half mad with frustration and want, but his kisses were positively divine. She rose on her toes to press against him more fully.  
    If the wind was still ice cold, she could no longer feel it. No longer taste the salt or smell the sea. Every inch of her body was warm. Heated. All she could smell was his masculine scent. All she could taste was his tongue on hers, teasing her so thoroughly that she felt every stroke as if his mouth was between her legs.
    She slid her hands across the rough stubble on his jaw and sank her fingers into his hair. It was too long, she supposed, too wild and untamable, but so was the man—and she liked him that way. His wildness made her feel wild. Made her feel free and reckless and powerful. He felt it, too. That’s what made it too dangerous for them to give into temptation.
    “Stay here,” he whispered hoarsely between kisses. “Stay safe.”
    She gripped his hair in her fists and kissed him as though tomorrow would never dawn. “Come back to me, or I’ll kill you.”
    He grinned against her mouth, then suckled her lower lip between his teeth. “Can’t kill me if you can’t find me.”
    “I’m obviously quite good at finding you.” She nipped at his mouth. “Don’t test me.”
    The ship gave a slight jerk and stopped moving.
    “Anchor’s down, Cap’n,” came