Sharon Hartley - Stranded With The Captain

“You raise orchids for a living?”

“A family business, started by my parents. I can tell that surprises you.”

“It’s an unusual profession.” Javi poured more champagne into her flute. “I figured you for a flight attendant.”

“Flight attendant?” She flushed again, and he was charmed. “Why?”

“Beautiful woman.” He raised his wine to her. “Beautiful smile.”

“Thank you,” she said, staring at her feet.

“Do I make you nervous, Irish?” Javi asked, making his voice soft.

She glanced up to meet his gaze, started to say something, but shrugged. “Definitely.”

Smiling at her honesty, he asked, “Why?”

She raised her glass in a toast similar to his. “Beautiful man. Dangerous smile.”

He laughed. “Dangerous?”

“You remind me of a pirate.”

“Do I, now?”

“Maybe it’s the earring,” she said.

He fingered his earlobe. “I had it pierced in Bali when I was eight.”

“Did you sail there?”

He nodded. “With my parents. You don’t like piercings?”

“I didn’t say that,” she said.

“Good.”

He ran a knuckle down her cheek, and her eyes widened. Her skin was as soft as it appeared.

“Or maybe it’s your beard,” she murmured, not objecting to his touch.

“My beard?”

“That makes me think of you as a pirate.”

“But pirates are marauding criminals,” he said, continuing to stroke her cheek, fascinated by the stark desire in her glittering gaze. He’d known from their first meeting that she was attracted to him. She’d tried to hide it, but he could tell.

Champagne and fatigue made it easy to ignore the voice in his brain that cautioned him to back off. But even a saint would find it hard to resist a woman as sexy as Irish.

“I can easily see you doing some marauding,” she said.

“No way,” he said. “Believe me, I’m a law-abiding man.”

Leaning closer, his gaze tracked to her lips. She’d welcome a kiss, and he wanted to know how that gorgeous mouth would taste. Getting Irish into his bunk would be easy, although a disastrous move. The image of this siren naked and willing beneath him threatened his fragile grip on common sense. Talk about too much damned bubbly.

“So you’re a man who always sticks to the rules,” she whispered, her breath soft and warm on his chin.

Not always. He captured her mouth with his, and she made a surprised noise in the back of her throat. Her lips tasted of the excellent champagne he’d been saving for a special occasion, which he’d assumed would be when he returned to duty.

She returned his kiss, shifting closer. Encouraged, he deepened their connection. She placed her hand on his shoulder, severing his last shred of control.

He pulled back and smiled into her dazed expression.

“Let’s go below,” he said, cupping her face with his palm.

“Okay,” she murmured, her voice a sweet sigh.

He rose and took her hand. Her fingers closed around his, and she came to her feet. Back off, Javi. Back off before it’s too late.

Halfway down the stairs, another noise drowned out the warning bell clanging inside his head.

Someone in the head losing their lunch.

CHAPTER FIVE

CAT STARED AT Javi’s tanned, muscled shoulders as she followed him down the steps into Spree’s cabin. Is this really me? Or is this an out-of-body experience because of booze and lack of sleep?

She didn’t care. For the first time in her life, she was acting on pure impulse.

What was it about the captain that made her so reckless? When he’d dripped water into the cockpit after his swim, she’d had the insane desire to lick the liquid off his chest. Right now she wanted him to lay her down on the nearest surface and take her. She closed her eyes, imagining how he would feel inside her.

Was she really going to do this?

He’d have to put on the brakes because all she could think about was stripping off his damp shorts and touching what was inside.

Were they headed to his bunk or hers?

When Javi’s grip tightened on her fingers, she looked over his shoulder. The sight of a disheveled Debbie wearing an oversize T-shirt standing outside the bathroom roused Cat from her sensual daze.

The sound of someone being sick on the other side of the closed door jerked her back into the present.

She’d been so swept away by her lust for the captain she’d utterly forgotten about her friends.

Her sick friends.

Worse, now she was angry at them for spoiling her first—and probably last—chance to do something deliciously wild. To have an adventure.

All kinds of regret replaced annoyance when Javi dropped her hand.

“Debbie,” Cat said, stepping in front of the captain, her champagne buzz all but fizzled out. “What’s going on?”

Debbie glared at her accusingly, then shifted her gaze to Javi.

Cat sighed. Were they that obvious? Did Deb sense something between her and the captain?

“Joanie’s puking,” Debbie announced, her voice slurred.

“How are you feeling?” Cat asked. Had Deb been drinking again? Not that I have room to criticize.

“Groggy,” Deb said. “I probably shouldn’t have taken a Dramamine on top of the sleeping pill.”

Cat felt Javi slip away, but didn’t turn to watch. He was being considerate by moving into his cabin to give them a little privacy, but she wanted to go in there with him, shut the door and finish where they’d started on deck. Let it go, Cat. You know the whole kiss thing was a giant mistake.

“Where are we?” Debbie asked.

“Anchored off Gun Cay exactly like we planned,” Cat said, realizing Deb was too out of it to notice anything unusual between her and the captain. Thank goodness. The embarrassment would be bad enough without Joan and Debbie knowing about her foolish behavior. She’d never hear the end of it.

“We’ve already cleared Bahamian customs?” Deb asked.

“Hours ago. You guys slept through it.”

Joan poked her head out of the bathroom, her dark hair a tangled mess around her pale face. She wiped her mouth with a damp washcloth.

“Are you okay?” Cat asked.

“Better now,” Joan said. “I just wish the boat would quit rocking.”

“It should be a calm night,” Cat said. “The winds are forecast to die down.”

Joan shuffled into the main saloon and looked out a porthole. “Can we go ashore?” she asked.

“No,” Cat said, sitting on the sofa surrounding the table.

Debbie moved next to Joan and also gazed hopefully toward land.

“It will be dark soon,” Cat explained. “And that’s an undeveloped island. There’s nothing but a small beach.”

“Precisely like the guys in the bar promised,” Deb said.

“Damn,” Joan muttered. “We lost a whole day.”

“We can take the dinghy and go ashore at first light,” Cat said. She felt bad for her friends. So far their holiday sucked. “Tomorrow will be fabulous.”

“Maybe,” Joan muttered.

“How come you didn’t get sick?” Debbie asked.

Cat shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.” She didn’t remind them she’d followed Javi’s advice and remained on deck while her friends insisted on going to their cabin. No sense making them feel worse.

“So what have you been doing all this time?” Debbie asked.

Cat inwardly groaned as her cheeks warmed. She could never hide anything. Her feelings were always obvious on her face. The curse of the redhead.

“Helping the captain with the boat.”

But her friends continued to study the anchorage and didn’t notice.

“I guess you learned how to sail,” Debbie said, still sounding sleepy.

“A bit. Are you guys hungry?” Cat asked. “Javi and I had a sandwich during the sail here, but that seems like a long time ago.”