Caught by Surprise

by Deborah Smith

  But Millie glumly acknowledged that she’d be deceiving both herself and Brig if she acted like Natty, and Brig was too savvy to be deceived for very long. Disappointment would turn into new anger, and that would slowly destroy what was left of the wonderful bond between them.

  She let the tears come and walked faster, barely seeing the tiny seashells and white sand that passed beneath her feet. For several minutes she forced herself to imagine the worst possible scenario for her future. Alone, lonely, an outsider. Her brother’s raucous teasing would become gentle as their respect turned to concern. Just as Brig had once predicted.

  So be it. Brig was the only man she wanted, and for a brief time she’d had him. The memories would have to be enough. Swallowing hard and gulping back more tears, Millie scrubbed a hand across her eyes as she trudged along. She glanced out at the ocean and halted, astonished.

  Only a few hundred yards offshore, a nineteenth century sailing ship rode the ocean like a magnificent ghost.

  It was a classic reproduction, not a ghost ship, she realized after a second. It resembled one of the ships that had sailed into New York harbor during the Statue of Liberty celebrations. Her dull reverie disappeared temporarily as she studied the graceful schooner. Wind ruffled the sails on its two tall masts, and she could see crew members moving about on deck.

  Millie sat down and watched the beautiful ship for nearly an hour. Feeling charmed and oddly at peace, she went back to the house.

  “I’m back,” Millie called diplomatically, as she walked down a cool, dark hallway to the kitchen. She heard the sound of the upstairs shower and decided she’d timed her walk well. Sighing with envy, she got a soft drink from the refrigerator and reached into a cabinet for a glass.

  The front screened door slapped open as if it were being torn from its hinges. Millie swung around, her heart jumping, and stared down the hallway in utter shock as four sword-bearing pirates burst into the house.

  Pirates?

  They were barechested, though wide crossbelts were slung across their shoulders. They wore only loose knee britches and rough leather shoes in the style of moccasins. Two of them had bright bandanas tied around their heads. One carried a coarse blue blanket.

  “Be you Melisande?” the leader said in a hearty English accent.

  The situation was so absurd that she blurted back, “Aye. And who be you, you scurvy sea dog?”

  “No back talk. Cap’n McKay said you’d try a man’s patience!” He gestured for his companions to come forward. “Let’s go, men!”

  Millie was so stunned at the name, Cap’n McKay, that she didn’t react quickly enough when they pounced on her. She tried to dodge, but they threw the blue blanket around her body and pulled it snug, pinning her arms down. Two of the men picked her up.

  “Caught like a fish in a net!” the lead pirate chortled. “Go quiet, wench.”

  “Like hell I will!” Kicking, wiggling, she fought them all the way down the hall. Millie flung her head back and saw Dinah and Rucker, both wearing robes, watching her from the top of the stairs. Dinah looked uncertain, but Rucker looked grandly amused. “Dinah! Rucker! What is this all about?”

  “It was Brig’s idea,” Dinah told her.

  The lead pirate waved his sword at Rucker menacingly. “Give us the wench’s belongings.”

  Rucker reached down, picked up her already-packed suitcase, and tossed it to the man. “Have fun, Miss Hunstomper,” he drawled cheerfully.

  Speechless, Millie quit fighting and lay still, squinting in the bright afternoon sun as the men carried her to the beach. Once there, they put her in a small row-boat, climbed in, and started toward the schooner.

  “Where are you from?” Millie demanded. “Did Brig rent you?”

  “Quiet, wench.”

  “I want some answers!”

  Instead she got a bandana stuffed in her mouth. Mumbling darkly around the improvised silencer, Millie drummed her heels on the boat’s bottom.

  When they reached the schooner one of the bigger pirates balanced her on his shoulder and climbed up a rope ladder to the deck. With the lead pirate following, he carried her below deck and pushed open a small door.

  Millie gazed around at a modem galley with an electric stove. They set her on a formica-topped dining table and turned her loose. When they pulled the gag from her mouth she said, “Hmmmph. What are you going to do—threaten me with an egg whisk?”

  “Get dressed, wench. I’ll be back in ten minutes,” the leader ordered. He pointed to a heap of green silk on a nearby chair. After the men left, Millie went to the chair and gathered a gorgeous, floor-length gown into her hands.

  “Brig, why are you doing this to me?” she whispered wretchedly. Despite her distress, excitement hummed through her veins. Kidnapped. She’d been kidnapped. Just like her ancestor. She didn’t understand Brig’s plan, but suddenly it didn’t matter.

  Melisande was going to be more than a match for him.

  Eleven

  What would a pirate captain do while waiting for a beautiful captive to be brought to his cabin? Act relaxed, that’s what, Brig decided. He glanced around the sumptuou’s captain’s quarters and picked out a richly upholstered chaise lounge.

  He grabbed a pewter goblet full of wine and lay down on his side, propped one elbow on the lounge’s rolled headrest and drew one knee up. Perfect.

  Someone knocked at the door. Brig cleared his throat. “Bring her in,” he ordered in a stern voice.

  The heavy wooden door swung open. Brig’s chest tightened with longing as Millie stepped inside—or rather, was pushed inside by a burly man. She’s a little princess, he thought. The people at the costume rental service had warned that the green gown was seductive, but no one had warned that Millie would hypnotize him.

  The low-cut neckline and tight bodice showcased her full breasts and small waist. Her arms were extraordinarily graceful in snug sleeves accented by white lace at the wrists. Her hair, curly and disheveled, gave her the appearance of having recently been tumbled in bed. And her eyes were large and vibrant as she glared at him.

  “Have fun with her, Cap’n,” her escort said drolly.

  “Aye. That I will.”

  The man left, pulling the door shut behind him. Now that she was alone with Brig, Millie clasped her hands in front of her and arched one brow. “I just want you to know that—”

  “You’ve got no say here, woman.” Brig tossed back the pewter goblet and swallowed his wine. He got up languidly. “Just do as you’re told.” His voice became wicked. “I’ll tell you when to open your pretty little mouth and what to use it for.”

  Millie sniffed in disdain but kept quiet—she needed to catch her breath. She was stunned by the sight of Brig. He wore a billowing white shirt with a deep V neck that revealed an inviting swatch of dark hair on his muscular chest. The shirt was tucked into snug, camel-colored knee britches which clung to his thighs and the masculine territory between them. Black leather boots completed the impression that he was a successful pirate captain. Successful and outrageously provocative.

  He strolled toward her, his eyes riveted to hers, and she couldn’t determine from their expression whether he was angry or amused. He played this amazing part so well. He stopped in front of her, his shirt nearly brushing her bodice.

  “This time you can’t run from me,” he told her smoothly. “You can’t escape the way you did in Birmingham.”

  “Run? I didn’t—”

  “Be quiet I kidnapped you to teach you a lesson. I’ll no more put up with your sass than Jacques would put up with Melisande’s. You’re here for my pleasure, not to talk.”

  A confusing mixture of anger and giddy anticipation made her face burn. She trembled with the need to speak, to ask him why he was doing this after the incident in Birmingham. He’d been furious and humiliated. Was this his way of paying her back?

  “My tough Melisande,” he said in a low, grim voice, “do you think you can wrap me around your little finger? Do you thi
nk you can break your promises to me and then disappear as soon as my back’s turned?” His eyes seared her with rebuke. “I won’t have it, you hear?”

  She couldn’t bear to be quiet any longer. He’d provoked all her defensive instincts. “You can’t tell me what to do!”

  His eyes narrowed coldly. “Well see about that!” He grabbed her, swung her up into his arms, and strode to a bunk covered with burgundy satin and thick pillows. Millie gasped as he dropped her on the bunk and immediately covered her with his own body. He caught her shoulders and held her still. His lips were nearly touching hers, his fierce eyes so close that she could see silver flecks amid the blue background.

  “I’m stronger than you, eh?” he taunted. “Bigger and stronger and a helluva lot better fighter—and don’t you ever forget it. You need me to be that way. You want a man who can best you in a fair fight.”

  “That’s the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard.” She inhaled raggedly, catching the mingled scents of their bodies. His was erotic and purely masculine. “I know you’re physically stronger than I am.”

  “I was wrong about you, Melisande. You do want to need me. You want me to protect you. All you have to do is admit it.”

  “No.” She shook her head from side to side. “That’s not what love is about.”

  His breath was harsh as it touched her lips. “You like bein’ kidnapped by me, same as Granny Melisande liked bein’ kidnapped by old Jacques.”

  “No!”

  “The hell you don’t,” he muttered, and kissed her. He tilted his head and kissed her again, his mouth open, his tongue expert and wanton as it probed between her damp lips.

  He arched his body against hers, and the solid, overwhelming presence made her squirm. He pressed the advantage until he lay between her thighs, chaperoned by the silky material of her dress.

  Millie whimpered with the knowledge that despite the problems between them, he still wanted her as much as she wanted him—at least in this way. It was a bond, a beginning. She opened her mouth and took the hard thrust of his tongue, met it with her own, and twisted her mouth against his as if she could drink him.

  He pulled back, his face ruddy with passion, his eyes hooded, the crook of his mouth showing victory. “Say it,” he ordered. “You want to be dependent on me.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want you to dislike me for being weak.”

  He cursed. “But it’s all right for you to protect me. It’s all right for you to risk your life to take care of me. You want me to be dependent on you, but not the other way around, eh?”

  Millie blinked in shock. “I suppose I do,” she said desperately.

  “You want me to be helpless without you.”

  “No! That’s not how I think of it.”

  “Then what makes it different from you bein’ helpless without me?”

  “You’re confusing me.” She writhed under him. “Let me up.”

  He only levered his body against hers so that she was pinned more effectively. “You can’t always get your way, see? You can’t always be the toughest or the strongest. You can’t always be independent. Sometimes you just have to be plain helpless, Melisande.”

  She stopped struggling and looked up at him like a cat ready to spit. “I can’t be that way.”

  “You’re that way right now, love. Completely helpless. At my mercy.”

  He bent his head and kissed her neck, tugging the warm skin between his lips. Sensations swirled outward, and she arched her neck with pleasure. Tears stung her eyes at the involuntary way her body strained upwards. “Stop, Brig,” she whispered. “Please.”

  “He lifted his head and gazed down at her. “Is it so bad to be helpless?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think I dislike you for being helpless right now?” His voice was strained.

  “I don’t know what you think,” she murmured.

  His expression was so intense he almost seemed to be in pain. He reached between them and jerked her skirt upward. Cool air touched her thighs and the region still covered by her white cotton panties. Suddenly she felt his sex through the soft material of his pants, pressing rigidly against her.

  “Is this dislike I’m showin’ you?” he demanded. “Right now we’re both helpless. See, Melisande, I’m willing to admit that I need you.”

  Millie understood finally, and nodded. Her mouth trembled as she fought for control. “But things are different when we’re not in bed,” she managed.

  He shut his eyes, exasperation etched on his face. “Strewth! Then we’ll get out of bed.” Brig vaulted up and pulled her out of the bunk. Her face was deeply flushed, and she gazed at him with torment in her eyes. “Try to explain things to me now,” he ordered.

  “We’re fine together in bed, and you know why,” Millie rebuked. “I’ve never humiliated you in bed.”

  He put his hands on his hips and gave her a bewildered, disgruntled look. “And when have you humiliated me out of bed?”

  She blinked in shock. “Birmingham, of course.”

  Brig frowned. “What are you talkin’ about?”

  “Oh, Brig, dammit!” she exploded in frustration. “Quit pretending! You didn’t want everyone to know that your girlfriend’s part commando and part Amazon! I made you a laughing stock!”

  “People were impressed. They were laughing with me, not at me. Only trouble was, I wasn’t laughing.” He paused, studying her shrewdly. “Is that what you think? That I was ashamed of what you did?”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “My God, Melisande, I’m mad as hell and hurt with you, but I’m prouder than ever.”

  After a stunned moment, she gestured weakly toward him and struggled for words. “You were proud of me? I didn’t know. That’s why I left you.”

  “Well, well. Your brother was right.”

  “My brother?”

  He quickly told her about meeting Jeopard in Nashville. “Jep said you kids were taught never to show how bad you hurt. That’s when I realized that I’d been too hard on you in the hospital. I thought you were just bein’ stubborn.”

  Looking distressed, she sank to the edge of the bed in a cloud of green silk. Her voice was low and weary. “Then what is this all about, Brig?” She waved around her, indicating his kidnapping ploy.

  He chuckled tensely. “To prove that we’re in the same boat.”

  Millie shook her head. “I can’t be what you want. I can’t promise I won’t defend you when you don’t want to be defended. The chances I take may upset you. You see that now, don’t you?”

  He gazed at her while new wrath built inside him. He braced both legs apart, shook clenched fists into the air, and said loudly, “All I see is a woman who’s too proud to admit she needs me!”

  “Is that the only thing you care about?” Her voice rose and became ferocious. “All right! I can’t help myself! I need you!” Shaking, she leaped to her feet. “I need your strength! I need your humor! I need to feel protected sometimes, and you know how to protect me without making me feel incompetent! You’re the only man in the world who makes me feel delicate! With you, I can be who I am! But can you deal with that?”

  Relief flooded him, chasing away his anger and leaving him drunk with happiness. She gazed at him defensively, and he let her wind down for about five seconds before he smiled calmly. “I’m glad we got your problem settled.”

  “Nothing’s settled!”

  “As long as you’re willing to admit that you need me, I can deal with anything you do.” His tone was cocky. “I figure that I can calm down your violent ways. It may take me years, but I’ll keep workin’ on it. And you can work on me. Maybe we’ll both get peaceful.” He pointed a finger at her in reproach. “But you can’t expect me not to get mad when you don’t do what I tell you.”

  “I love you too much to swear that I won’t cause trouble if someone threatens you. No more promises.”

  “Aw, to hell with promis
es.” He sighed grandly and his accent deepened. “I’ll take me chances.”

  “I do need you,” she repeated plaintively. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  He laughed then, the sound rich and happy. “Strewth, Melly. I’m going to teach you to need me more.”

  “I couldn’t possibly need you more than I already do.”

  His eyes darkened, and his voice became seductive. “Oh, yes, you could.”

  He stepped forward and put his hands on her waist. The alert set of his body made her think of a primitive male animal cautiously closing in on a female that might need persuasion. The confident, challenging look on his face provoked her to resist. Millie raised her chin and eyed him calmly.

  “So you think you can have your way with me, Captain McKay?”

  “Anytime I want.”

  “You may have dragged me aboard your ship, but you’ll never force me to make love with you.”

  A sexy and sinister smile tilted his mouth. “It won’t be force, me pretty.”

  He jerked her close to him and clasped her in his arms. Millie stared up at him through half-shut eyes and shivered with emotion. She hadn’t ruined anything between them after all. Brig could accept her as she was, and he wanted her more than ever. “Oh. Captain,” she murmured gently. “You’re going to compromise me.”

  Brig molded a hand to the curve of her back and stroked downward to her hips. He grasped her rump suddenly and rubbed, pulling her closer to him as he did. “Compromise. Is that what I’m about to do to you?”

  “I’ve led a sheltered life. I have no idea what you will do with me, Captain.”

  His eyes were hooded with desire, his breathing a little rough. “I’ll show you, m’lady.”

  He buried his nose in the soft blond hair at her temple, then trailed light kisses down the side of her face. He still cupped her hips with one hand. The other rose to her head and sank into her hair. Pulling her head back, he continued kissing her, letting his mouth follow the curve of her throat. Millie felt her breasts strain against the low-cut gown as she exhaled raggedly.