Miss Minerva's Pirate Mishap by Maggie Dallen (to read list .TXT) 📗

Exploring as if they had all the time in the world.

Which they didn’t.

Reality came back in a blinding flash of disappointment and she pushed away suddenly. “What—?” She stumbled back a step and felt a sharp empty ache when he let her go. Her hand flew to her lips, which still tingled from the heat of his kiss. “What was that?”

He was eyeing her oddly. Warily. Like she was some fragile creature that was going to run away.

She straightened to her full height. As if she would run. She had not fled in the face of a pirate, she certainly would not run from a kiss.

Not just a kiss. Her first kiss. The only kiss that would ever matter.

She shushed that voice and shut it down. Silly romanticism. That was something one of Hattie’s fictional heroines would say, not her.

She spun around so his prying eyes could not see her confusion or her cheeks, which were no doubt flushed. “What was that?” she demanded.

She didn’t hear him approach and so she jumped when his hands fell upon her arms, his grip gentle and steadying. “I’m sorry if I took liberties,” he said. “I was hoping you felt it, too.”

I did. I do. She swallowed. “Felt what?”

His hands roamed over her arms, her shoulders, as if he could take in every inch of her with his soft caress. “This connection. A sense of belonging. Rightness.” He gave a rueful huff. “Words have never been my strong suit, I’m afraid. And right now they are failing me mightily.”

She spun around to face him. “I don’t know what kind of lady you think I am, but—”

“No, I didn’t think you were—” He cut her off with a quick protest and for that she was grateful because her words were failing her too. “That is, I did not mean to disrespect you.”

What kind of lady did he think she was? The better question was, what kind of lady was she? Her heart continued to pound furiously as that question raced through her brain.

What kind of woman kissed a stranger like that? What kind of woman snuck off to meet a man she hardly knew and shouldn’t trust?

Her gaze shot up to meet his, and she froze. She did trust him. Whether it made sense or not, she was not afraid of him and some part of her trusted him, even though she could not explain why.

That had her more concerned about her welfare than any pirate ever could.

Impulsive. Passionate. Reckless. Following her heart’s desire.

Weren’t these all the words and phrases their father used to describe their mother? Wasn’t that everything she’d sworn she’d never be?

She scrambled back a step, despising the concern in his eyes as he stepped toward her. “I did not mean to take advantage—”

“You didn’t.”

He reached for her and she backpedaled too fast, tripping over her own boots. He stopped, his brows drawn down and his eyes filled with such warmth she could feel it to her very core. “What I meant to say earlier—what I ought to have said—was that I wish for my next adventure to include you. I want you to be my next grand adventure.”

“W-what?” She wasn’t even certain how she’d managed to get that one word out.

His small smile was filled with self-derision. “I realize I’m going about this all wrong, but in my defense, I’ve never once attempted to court a lady.” He eyed her for a long moment. “Also, I suppose I thought that if I were ever to try, I would have more than twenty-four hours in which to do so.”

She blinked once. Twice. Then she opened her mouth to take a deep steadying breath. “Are you teasing again?”

He shook his head with a smirk. “For once, I am not.”

Courting. The word felt far too simple and innocent for whatever it was that had transpired between them. This was not courting. Roger was the man who was supposed to court her, and when he did it would be utterly proper. Her father’s approval would be ascertained, they would take chaperoned walks and dance together at her sisters’ balls, and then, when the time was right, he would ask for her hand.

She knew for certain how her courtship would go, and it looked nothing like this. Roger’s courtship would be proper and predictable and—

Boring.

She shook her head as if that might clear it.

“You want to...” She cleared her throat because the words felt ludicrous to think, let alone speak. “You wish to court me?”

“That’s correct.”

“But you still must leave as soon as this culprit has been apprehended,” she said.

“Also correct,” he said with a wince of regret.

“And you think that I might...” She swallowed. “You believe that I might wish to—”

“Come with me.”

She was at a loss to say whether he was finishing her statement or asking her outright.

“Come with me,” he said again. This time it was definitely a plea. “I know that it sounds crazy.” He tilted his head one way and then the other. “Perhaps it is crazy. But I’ve never been known for being sensible, and my instincts have never led me astray.”

Her eyes were so wide they were beginning to hurt, her mind racing too quickly to hold onto a single thought.

She did not know which was crazier. That he was asking...or that she was tempted to say yes.

She ought to say no. She opened her mouth to say no. What came out was, “Come with you where?”

He smiled. It was that rakish lopsided grin that made her world feel like it was tilting, like she was falling. “Wherever you wish.”

For a moment the world didn’t just spin around, it opened up. Like some sort of magic, his words seemed to speak directly to her heart and her head grew cloudy with visions of travel and adventure and romance and—

No. She blinked as the voice of reason brought her back to the ground with an unpleasant jolt. That was not her future.

She closed her eyes and ignored the longing,