A Few Good Fantasies

by Michele Bardsley

  Then she felt someone grab her arms and drag her toward light, toward air. She burst from the water and gulped in oxygen. Her rescuer held onto her waist as he swam toward the shore.

  When they reached the beach, she coughed up water, spitting the salty liquid into the sand. Finally able to sit up, she found herself looking into the green eyes of Sean O’Malley.

  “Are you all right, darlin’?”

  She nodded. Her gaze dipped to his black T-shirt. On the right side of the shirt was stitched O’Malley and underneath some sort of symbol with an “SA” inside it. She’d seen that symbol in the paperwork she’d signed.

  “You’re not a Fantasy Date?”

  Sean shook his head. “I’m a Safety Agent.”

  “Why were you in the room with all the others? As a joke?”

  “The co-workers who locked me in there thought it was.” Sean pushed her wet hair from her face then plucked a piece of seaweed from it.

  She pushed his hand away. “I don’t understand.”

  “Joanne asked me for a favor. She said you picked me.” He smiled. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

  “Or you wanted to get laid.”

  “I won’t deny it. What about you, Glenna? Did you get what you wanted?”

  Her anger turned to ashes. How could she be mad at him? She’d paid outrageously for the privilege of dating the perfect man. Instead, she’d gotten the imperfect one. “I wanted romance and you gave me reality. You showed me passion. You made me want to fall in love.”

  Sean’s gaze filled with tenderness. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Stay.”

  “My bookstore—”

  “I’m better than any book, darlin’.” He dropped her hand and cupped her face. “Stay. Please.”

  Glenna looked into his eyes and saw that he wanted her. Maybe for a while. Maybe forever. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go make some mistakes.”

  Pirate in My Pants

  Chapter 1

  “THIS IS JANEY’S idea of research?” asked Lissa McClaskey as she examined the lobby of the Port Royal Inn.

  Made to look like the innards of a pirate vessel, the walls were ribbed dark wood, polished to a high shine. Hanging big and bright above them was a chandelier—something not usually found in the bowels of a swashbuckler’s ship. Neither were the white-marble floors, the cozy arrangements of leather sofas and chairs, and the abundance of potted palms. Still, she had to admit the ambience was very pirate-like.

  Her temporary assistant, Sam Tremont, grinned boyishly. He was her younger sister’s best friend. Her sis had developed a bad cold and copped out on the trip she had booked.

  Janey had been her assistant since they played secretary-and-famous-writer (Lissa’s favorite game) as kids. Janey had been a precocious four and Lissa a very serious thirteen.

  “Take Sam,” Janey had sniffled via phone. “He knows everything I know and he’s in-between gigs.”

  Sam was a musician. He played guitar and sang beautifully. Lissa always wondered why Sam and Janey just didn’t date and get it over with.

  Ten years younger, Sam was tall and lean and cute. He had wavy blond hair and green eyes that blinked owlishly out her from behind horn-rimmed spectacles. If he lost his glasses and his penchant for khakis and dress shirts he never tucked in, he could be mistaken for a surfer.

  Instead he looked studious, which he was, and absent-minded, which he wasn’t.

  “You wanted to experience the Golden Age of piracy. This place is as close as you’re going to get.” He heaved his laptop bag over his shoulder, gripping his suitcase in one hand and hers in the other. “Let’s check in.”

  Lissa held her own laptop and her make-up case. Following her enthusiastic charge to the counter, she sighed. Sometimes, Sam was like a big puppy. She could hardly remember having the exuberance that seemed part and parcel of those still enjoying their twenties. Or maybe it was just Sam who never seemed to tire. She had discovered that there was no fact he couldn’t unearth, no request he couldn’t make happen, and no task he couldn’t do.

  The only person who made a better assistant was Janey. She depended on her sister absolutely. Janey made her life as an author bearable, shouldering all the necessary but unpleasant tasks that took away from her writing time. She no longer dreaded book tours because Janey was there: her support, her friend, her conscience.

  “It’s a two-bedroom suite,” said Sam, breaking into her thoughts. “Top floor, ocean view. Is that okay?”

  “Yeah,” said Lissa. “You said there’s a real pirate’s cove here?”

  “I’ve already rented the schooner,” he said, smiling. “The captain will take us to all the hot spots, including the cove. There’s also a shipwreck in shallow water that we can scuba dive.”

  Lissa stared at his lips. He had a wonderful mouth. Oh! Her cheeks heated at the inappropriate direction of her thoughts. Sam was like her little brother and she’d been having not-so-brotherly thoughts about him. Lately, her libido had been … well, kinda frisky.

  “Lissa?”

  “Uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s great.”

  Embarrassed, she turned away. The clerk handed over her credit card and said, “Let us know if you need anything else, Ms. McClaskey. It’s our pleasure to serve you.”

  “Thanks.”

  They headed toward the bank of elevators on the right side of the check-in counter.

  “Is everything okay?” asked Sam.

  Lissa worked up a smile and met his gaze. God, he was adorable. “Everything’s terrific.”

  “LET ME GUESS. You’re suffering from Jack Sparrow syndrome.”

  Lissa looked up from her sweating Seven and Seven. The blonde bartender, whose nametag read Wench Wendy, leaned on the polished wood bar and smiled. It was five o’clock in the evening, too late for afternoon liberations and too early for dinner drinks. The hotel bar, called Kidd’s Kavern, was practically empty.

  “Jack Sparrow? From Pirates of the Caribbean?” Lissa grinned. That was one of her all-time favorite movies. In fact, she loved any story that put pirates in a romantic light. She knew from her research that pirates were bloodthirsty and ruthless, but they also knew how to have a good time.

  “We get a lot of ladies who want to get swept off their feet by Johnny Depp.” Wendy laughed.

  “Don’t I know it.” Lissa tapped the edge of her glass. “Can I have another one?”

  Wendy poured Crown Royal into a glass and added a shot of 7-Up. After she slid the drink to Lissa, she grabbed a towel and started buffing the bar. “So, what do you do?”

  “I write historical romance novels,” said Lissa. “You ever hear of the Pirate Prince series?”

  Wendy shook her head. “Sorry. I get all the pirates I can take here. I’m into biographies and true crime books.”

  “Oh.” Lissa traced the rim of her glass. “I write about pirates because I like the fantasy of getting captured and seduced by a seafaring rogue.”

  “You’re in the right place then.”

  Another couple sat down at the bar a few stools down from Lissa. Wendy walked away to tend to the new customers.

  After she’d submitted her fifth Pirate Prince novel, her editor had suggested Lissa should consider writing a different kind of story. How about a paranormal, she enthused during their last phone conversation. Could you put a vampire in it?

  Lissa wanted to write a paranormal about as much as she’d wanted to endure a double root canal. But she was also a writer who knew which side her bread was buttered on, so she roughed out a few ideas.

  Luckily, her editor had gone for a vampire pirate pillaging on the high seas. If it meant getting to write another historical and keeping her Pirate Prince series alive, she’d put in as many preternatural creatures as her publisher wanted. Sure, she had a few logistics to figure out. Where did a vampire captain sleep during the day? What kind of crew would tolerate an undead leader? How did they pillage anything or anyone at night?

  Lissa drained th
e rest of her drink. Where was Sam? After they’d gotten settled into the suite, she’d taken a nap and when she awoke, she found a note from him asking for her to meet him at this bar.

  “Miss McClaskey?”

  She looked up at Wendy. The woman handed her a single white rose and vellum envelope. It had wax seal on it. Weird.

  “What’s this?”

  “Just arrived, ma’am. I was told to give it to you.”

  Curious, Lissa popped off the seal and slid out the single sheet of paper.

  A pirate on a quest

  To find a maiden true

  Honor this humble behest

  And let him capture you…

  Below the odd poem were two words: Treasure Trove.

  Lissa frowned at the handwriting. She didn’t recognize the sweeping, broad strokes. Who the hell would send her an invitation to be shanghaied?

  “What do you make of this?” asked Lissa, handing the page to Wendy.

  Her gaze flicked over the words and she grinned. “You’ve been invited to the Pirate’s Pursuit. Pirates row onto Buccaneer’s Beach and chase their ladies.”

  “What happens if the pirate catches you?”

  Wench Wendy laughed. “Whatever you want.”

  Lissa’s brows rose. Where the hell had Janey booked them? Sure, there were plenty of pirate activities here, but it seemed most guests were living out fantasies of a more sensual nature. Not that she was opposed to such a thing. Lissa frowned. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex. How sad was that?

  She untucked her cell phone from its slot on the side of her purse and dialed Sam.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m at Kidd’s Kavern. Where are you?”

  “Sorry, boss. I’m stuck in the business office. Fax machine is giving me fits.”

  “Fax?”

  “The galleys, remember?”

  She’d corrected the last of them on the plane to the Bahamas. On the boat ride to this island, she’d given those pages to Sam. She didn’t have to tell him what to do—he just did it. The boy never let the grass grow under his feet.

  “I’m going to take the night off,” she said. “Why don’t you, too? Go find yourself a hottie to dance the night away.”

  She blanched. She didn’t really want the idea of Sam’s arms around some hot, young thing galloping through her mind, but there it was, depressingly vivid. Yep. She’d be cute, tan, thin, and she’d giggle adorably.

  Blech.

  Sam was silent for a long moment. Then he said, “Who are you? And what have you done with my lovable workaholic?”

  “Ha. Ha. Ha.” Lissa looked at the invitation. Was she nuts? She didn’t know who had sent her this note. Still, she couldn’t give up an opportunity to get chased by a pirate. Jack Sparrow syndrome, all right. She’d just let him capture her then call it a night.

  That sounded reasonable. Play a little, harmless game then go back to the suite for room service and 1,000 words on the new manuscript.

  “Lissa?”

  “Sorry, I zoned out there. Finish wrestling that fax machine into submission and go have some fun. That’s an order.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She hung up, plucked her rose and invite from the bar then laid down a twenty. After waving good-bye to Wendy, she left Kidd’s Kavern and crossed the lobby to the concierge’s desk.

  “Yes, mi’lady?” asked the thin man with graying hair. He was dressed in a stylish black suit. It was probably too much to ask a concierge to wear an eyepatch and sword and intersperse conversations with “yarr!”

  “When is the Pirate’s Pursuit?”

  “Tonight’s game begins at seven p.m.”

  Lissa glanced at the paper again. “Do you know what the Treasure Trove is?”

  “The shop is located in our mall. You go down the hallway until you reach the staircase. Go up the stairs, through the door is the first floor of our shopping center. It’s the third storefront on the left.”

  “Thanks.”

  Ten minutes later, Lissa entered the Treasure Trove. The small shop had paneled walls, red carpet, and low lighting. The store was filled with racks and racks of clothes and many shelves of hats, shoes, and accessories.

  “’Ello, luv,” said a large woman with brassy red hair and sparkling green eyes. Dressed like a gypsy, in layers of purple and white, her bell-laden belt jangled as she rounded the counter. “What can I do for you?”

  “I was invited to the Pirate’s Pursuit.” Lissa’s cheeks heated as she said the words. Oh, for heaven’s sake! Why was she embarrassed about indulging in an innocuous fantasy? She’d consider it research. Yeah. Research.

  “What’s your name, luv?” Her cockney accent was thick.

  “Lissa McClaskey.”

  Genessa reached into a rack of plastic-covered clothes and plucked out a dress. “Oh-ho. This here’s a good ‘un. Your pirate like his girls lusty.”

  Lissa accepted the costume. “What do I owe you?”

  “It’s been paid for, miss. All you need to do is wear it. Be sure you put on the colored sash—that’s how your pirate will identify you.”

  Well, shiver me timbers.

  Chapter 2

  LISSA SAT ON the couch in her hotel suite and stared at the costume, which was draped next to her. Now that she’d had time to think about her impulse, she was chickening out.

  The last man she’d dated was Ian. That was … God, three years ago. He was a successful architect who was handsome, ambitious, and charming. Everyone had their faults, but Ian’s main flaw had been his obsession with his job.

  Lissa understood something about obsession—after all, she was a writer and often immersed herself in the fictional world to the point she eschewed showers, ate cereal for dinner, and lived in the same pair of sweats for a week.

  But Ian had needed a woman more interested in him and his career and Lissa had wanted a man who wasn’t a self-absorbed prick.

  They’d parted ways. And she hadn’t had a serious relationship since then. Oh, the occasional date, but nothing that had led to hot sex, much less a long-term relationship. In fact, the only man currently in her life was Sam.

  Sam was a nice kid. Cute. Really cute. Smart. Funny. What are you doing, Lissa? Sam, for all intents and purposes belonged to Janey. He was not a boy-toy. She sighed.

  According to Lissa’s mother, compatible was the most important relationship quality. Mom had told her numerous times that the first bright passion associated with falling in love faded with time. You find someone you can like for the rest of your life, she said. Sex is nice, honey, but decent conversation and a faithful heart is worth a lot more.

  Of course, her mother had been married four times in the hopes of finding a man who didn’t bore her to tears or cheat on her. So far, she hadn’t found him.

  Lissa needed to stop thinking that life was like a romance novel. People didn’t fall in love in a day and stay madly in love for the rest of their lives. Passion burned bright and quick before it flickered out.

  Well, hell. Lissa stood up and plucked the dress off the couch. Maybe a relationship was too much to hope for, but fun—well, that she could have without worrying about things like compatibility.

  LISSA WALKED BAREFOOT on the beach dressed as a tavern wench. The knee-length skirt showed off her legs. The red sash cinched her waist; she’d knotted it on the side so that the ends would flow off her hip.

  The white shirt puffed at the shoulders, leaving her arms bare. With help from her strapless push-up bra, the low-cut blouse gave new meaning to the word ‘cleavage.’ Bangles clinked on her wrists. On her left ankle she’d put a bell-filled bracelet. She’d taken her time getting ready, soaking in a lavender-scented bath and patting her entire body with a sparkly, scented powder. She kept her make-up light and left her brown hair long and straight.

  Rows of bamboo torches offered the only light on the dark beach. Stars glittered like diamonds in the night sky. As Lissa walked toward the water, a warm breeze te
ased the edge of her skirt and tossed her hair. The low waves licked at her toes and she curled them into the sand, enjoying the sensation of the soft grit tickling her feet.

  She scanned the ocean, enjoying its dark, shining beauty. In the distance, she spotted a large row boat headed toward the shore. Loud singing floated toward her:

  “Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate’s life for me!”

  Her heart turned over in her chest and adrenaline hummed up her spine. The boat hit the shore and men tumbled out of the craft, laughing and singing.

  “We come for ye, wenches!” cried one.

  The pirates swarmed the beach, brandishing swords and whooping loudly. Women giggled and screamed as they ran every which way.

  One pirate swaggered toward her. He wore a red handkerchief over his hair and a red mask that covered half his face. His teeth bared in a lascivious grin. Wow. His loose shirt offered tantalizing glimpses of muscled flesh. As he passed by a torch, the flickering light revealed a chiseled profile.

  “Lissa! I’ll show ye a good time!” he crowed in a gravelly voice.

  Her heart tripled its frantic beat. Oh, God. This was him. The pirate who wanted her! She sucked in a steadying breath. Time to put up or shut up, girl.

  His arms opened wide. “Are ye gonna embrace me, ye bonny lass?”

  She’d written enough pirate dialogue to know how to respond. “I wouldn’t let a scurvy dog like you anywhere near my goods,” she said saucily, as she tossed her hair over her shoulder.

  His eyes flashed with surprise. He paused in the dark space between two torches, so his expression was hidden, but obviously he was calculating the distance between them.

  He shot toward her.

  Lissa turned and ran. Adrenaline spiked in her belly as he gave chase. She worked-out three days a week; she had the stamina needed to make her pirate work for his bounty. Even so, she didn’t want to run too hard or too long.