“Don’t you have to steer this thing into the marina?”
His eyes popped open.
She was leaning over him holding a box of tissues.
“Thanks,” he replied, lifting out several and removing the condom. “I don’t have to worry about that yet. We’re at least half an hour away.”
“Um, I don’t think so.”
Sitting up and looking out the window, he was shocked to find they were sailing through the bay.
“Shit,” he muttered, hurriedly climbing from the bed and pulling on his shorts.
Dashing up to the helm, he discovered the wind had picked up significantly. Astonished to see how far they’d traveled, he took control of the vessel and began guiding it safely toward the wharf. Perhaps letting her stick around would be a good idea after all.
* * *
In her cabin, Beth frantically finished packing. She hadn’t expected Scott’s fervent, demanding kiss, or that he would master her the way he mastered his yacht.
If she stayed, she’d become emotionally involved.
She couldn’t let that happen. Though succumbing to the captain’s passion had been a mistake, she instinctively trusted him, but pushing the thought to the back of her mind, she quickly double-checked to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything.
Peering out the window, she realized Scott was backing the catamaran into its space. Taking a deep breath and perching on the edge of the bed, she steeled herself for what she was about to do. Finally rising to her feet, she headed up to the deck. Scott had secured the lines to the dock and was jumping back on board.
“Hey,” he said with a warm grin.
“Hey, yourself,” she replied, managing to smile back. “I have a really big favor to ask. I’m craving a latte, but a sexy sailor just bonked my brains out and I don’t have the energy to walk to the café.”
He laughed, a happy contagious laugh that made her want to change her mind.
“Sure, and I’ll pick us up some of those pastries you liked,” he replied, then grabbing her around the waist, he jerked her against his body. “Behave while I’m gone,” he warned, then abruptly releasing her, he turned and marched away.
Hurrying back to the cabin, she picked up her bag and purse, waited a couple of minutes, then left the boat and scurried away.
Chapter 1
Six months later
Scott had owned his sailing school and lived in the islands for almost three years. Though the lifestyle and maintaining several boats had its share of challenges, he loved the sun and sea, and he’d always been a people person.
He offered courses to cover all skill levels, and had met those thrilled by sailing and eager to learn, and those better off as landlubbers. But there were others just out for a good time—like a couple of his female students who had tested his patience during a squall. He’d wanted to turn the young women over his knee, spank their asses, toss them off the boat, and watch them swim to shore.
With the course finally over, he’d waved them goodbye at his base at Red Hook on St. Thomas, and sailed around to the other side of the island to dock at his favorite spot, Crown Bay Marina.
They had reminded him of Beth.
But that wasn’t unusual.
Many things reminded him of Beth.
Skillfully maneuvering his fifty-foot catamaran into the dock, he secured the lines, returned to the galley to grab a beer, then ambled to the back of the boat and sank into the padded seat to down a long, much-needed swig. As he began to relax, Beth once again popped into the forefront of his mind.
It didn’t matter that months had passed.
Her abrupt departure still bothered him, but a flash of white at the end of the marina caught his attention.
A beautiful woman wearing large, dark sunglasses, her flaxen hair flying, and her dress flapping around shapely, tanned legs, was walking as fast as her high-heeled sandals would allow. Watching her struggle to carry the large bag hanging from her shoulder, he assumed she was late for a charter.
His heart suddenly skipped.
Though her tousled auburn hair had been transformed into long, sleek blonde locks, there was no mistaking it was Beth.
“Scott! Oh, my gosh, I’m so relieved to see you,” she exclaimed breathlessly, coming to an abrupt stop and hastily removing her dark glasses. “I know this is like, uh, totally, uh—sorry, I’m babbling. Can I come on board? I really need to talk to you.”
He was rarely unnerved, but staring down at her, blonde and frantic, he couldn’t find his voice.
“Please?” she pleaded. “I know you probably don’t want to give me the time of day, but it’s important, really important.”
“Yeah, okay,” he replied, putting his bottle on the table and stepping up to help her. “Give me your bag.”
“Oh, right, good idea,” she said breathlessly as she passed it up to him, then looking nervously back down the dock, she clutched his hand and clambered on deck. “Can we please go inside? I can’t stay out here.”
Given Beth’s penchant for being impossible, the image of a large, angry man on the warpath came to mind.
“Go ahead.”
“Thank you,” she panted, hurrying past him.
Still taken aback by her unexpected appearance, he grabbed his beer, took a drink, then followed her in and closed the door behind him. She was already sitting down, but fidgety and anxious.
“How did you find me?” Though he wanted to know why she was so panic stricken, and the question had sounded incongruous, it had just popped out of his mouth.
“I didn’t,” she replied. “This is totally coincidental. I couldn’t believe it when I spotted you sitting in that chair. I can’t tell you how happy I am.”
“What is it you want, Beth? Why are you here? I take it someone’s chasing you.”
“Yeah, you could say that,” she replied with a heavy sigh. “I won’t bore you with the gory details, but a guy I was dating back in L.A.—I don’t know how he did it, but he found out where I am. I just saw him walking into a restaurant. Scott, I have no right to ask this after, uh, after what I did, but can I hire you to take me someplace?”
“I don’t even know what to say,” he muttered, staring at her, his mind spinning. “This boyfriend of yours, I take it he’s—”
“He’s not a very nice person,” she said, interrupting him, then dramatically jumping from her chair, she threw her arms in the air and began to pace. “No, I’m sorry, that’s total bullshit. I can’t lie to you. There’s no ex-boyfriend, and, uh, shit, I’m completely screwed.”
Conflict raged through him.
Though a part of him wanted to send her on her way, there was another part—a very strong part—longing to be her knight in shining armor. Hoping he wouldn’t live to regret it, he stepped across to the refrigerator and retrieved a bottle of vodka.
“Beth, the first thing you need to do is calm down.”
“Easier said than done,” she retorted, running her fingers through her long golden hair.
“Have a drink and gather your thoughts,” he suggested, splashing a good amount into a glass and handing it to her, “then tell me what’s going on, but calmly.”
“Okay, thanks,” she murmured gratefully, lifting it to her lips. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m crazy.”
“Not at all, women jump on my boat and ask me to sail off with them all the time,” he quipped with a chuckle, hoping a little levity might help to settle her nerves.
“Really? Where do you take them?”
“It depends on the wind and currents—and my mood. What’s with your hair, or is it a wig?”
“Uh, yeah,” she replied, taking another drink.
“Are you ready to tell me what’s up? I can’t help you if I don’t know.”
“I want to tell you, but if I do—”
“You’d have to kill me?”
“I wish I could laugh, but this is serious. If you help me and something goes wrong you could end up in a lot of troub
le—or worse. I don’t want that to happen.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“With the law,” she said, lowering her voice, “and worse is, uh—”
“Dealing with whoever is chasing you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why are you here talking to me?”
“I was looking for someone who might let me charter them right away. I knew it was a long shot—but then I saw you. I guess I didn’t think it through, not really. I just needed to get off that wharf. Sorry, my mind is going in a million different directions. Scott, the bottom line is, I need to disappear, at least for a little while, and it’s better if I don’t tell you why.”
“That won’t cut it,” he said solemnly, “and I also want to know why you disappeared six months ago.”
“Shit,” she groaned, sitting back down and swallowing the last of her vodka. “I promise I’ve done nothing wrong, but a bad guy is trying to make it seem like I have. I need time to figure out what to do before he catches up with me. And he works for some awful people. They’re after me too. It’s just a big, complicated mess. Like I said, I have to disappear.”
“How much time are we talking about?”
“I’m not even sure. I’ve been on the move and I can’t think straight.”
“What do you mean, on the move?”
“I rented a cottage on the beach. When I came back the other day I noticed the door was slightly open, and I know I’d locked it. I risked looking through a window, and I saw him. I kept a bag hidden outside just in case something like this happened. I grabbed it and took off, but I’ve been terrified of showing my face anywhere. Walking down the dock just now, I was freaking out.”
As the story had tumbled from her lips, her voice had cracked. The difficult, stubborn, independent young woman was vulnerable and close to tears.
“Can I at least pay you to stay overnight?” she continued. “I’m desperate for some sleep.”
The sun was already setting, and he wouldn’t deny her a bunk, but he needed a minute to process what was happening. Picking up his beer, he took a swig.
“Scott, please…?”
“You can use your old cabin below,” he began, “but if you expect me to weigh anchor and sail you out of trouble, I need to know why you took off without a word six months ago, who’s chasing you now, and what’s behind it. And Beth, if you decide to tell me, I want the truth—all of it,” he added sternly. “No bullshit. You can give me your answer in the morning.”
“Thank you, really, thank you,” she murmured earnestly, slowly rising to her feet.
He couldn’t help but notice her thin cotton sundress draping sensuously over her luscious curves.
The memory of her naked body next to his flashed through his mind.
It felt like yesterday.
He suddenly longed to whisk her down to his cabin and ravage her all over again.
“I’ll carry this,” he muttered, picking up her bag. “When I watched you walk down the dock, it looked like your arm was about to fall off.”
“It’s been getting heavier by the hour.”
Willing his cock to settle, he led her below and opened the door to the guest cabin, but as she walked past him, the tantalizing aroma of the coconut scent he remembered so well tickled his nostrils. Doing his best to ignore it, he placed her bag on the bed.
“When was the last time you ate?” he asked, turning around to face her.
Like a seductive siren, she was temptingly close.
“Uh, yesterday afternoon,” she replied softly. “I’ve been afraid to show my face anywhere.”
“I’ll get us some dinner.”
“Please let me pay for it,” she insisted, reaching into her bag. “It’s the least I can do.”
Pulling out a couple of fifty-dollar bills, she stuffed them into the pocket of his shorts. Her fingers came perilously close to his stiffening member.
“I’ll lock up the salon when I go,” he promised, quickly stepping back. “If you hear anyone knocking, just ignore it.”
Hastily leaving and closing the door behind him, he strode back to grab his beer and take a last long swallow. He’d always been up for an adventure, but this was a first. Wondering just how shark-infested and murky the waters would be, he stopped into his cabin, pulled on a T-shirt, picked up his wallet and keys, and headed out.
* * *
It was a short walk to the Shady Shack, a nearby hangout that offered great food at reasonable prices. Though a popular spot, it was still early, and tables sat empty, though a few regulars nursed their drinks at the bar.
“Hey, Scott.”
Recognizing the voice of Jack Schmidt, the owner and a close friend, Scott turned and spotted him on the far side of the patio dining area. Usually a jovial guy, Jack appeared to be anything but. Standing next to him, a tall, mustached man with long black hair pinned back off his face looked equally grave. As Scott made his way toward them, an uncomfortable churning moved through his gut.
“Hey, Jack, what’s up?”
“Hi, Scott, this is Detective Dan Miller,” Jack replied. “Detective, this is Captain Scott Specter. He runs a sailing school and charter service.”
“I’ll get right to the point,” the detective declared brusquely, producing a photograph from his pocket and handing it over. “Have you seen this woman? Study it closely. She’ll be trying to find a way off the island.”
Before he even dropped his eyes to the picture, Scott suspected he’d be looking at Beth.
“Who is she?” he asked, staring at the fuzzy image of a girl with short brown hair and glasses, yet unmistakably Beth.
“Her name is Elizabeth McKay.”
“She’s cute,” Scott remarked, keeping a poker face, though surprised by the different name. “What’s she done?”
“Just answer the question,” the detective demanded. “Have you seen her?”
“I haven’t run across a woman with brown hair and glasses,” Scott replied, skirting the truth.
“Are you sure?”
Scott paused, realizing the detective might know Beth had purchased a charter from him all those months before.
“Let me look again,” he murmured, staring at the image. “I guess she looks vaguely familiar, but I meet a ton of people in my business. If I run across her, what should I do?”
“Call me right away, here’s my information.”
Reaching into the back pocket of his slacks, the man pulled out his wallet and produced a card, but as he handed it over, Scott noticed a Rolex Submariner wrapped around his wrist.
“What makes you think she’s here?” Scott asked, stuffing the card into his wallet.
“I have my reasons. Where’s that small hotel again, Mr. Schmidt?”
“Excuse me, I need to get something to eat,” Scott interjected, moving away. “I just docked and I’m starving. Catch you later, Jack.”
“Sure, Scott, later.”
Reaching the takeout counter, Scott turned and studied the man calling himself Detective Miller. His clothes were loose fitting, but looked expensive, and the timepiece on his wrist would have cost a detective six months’ salary.
He was either corrupt, or he wasn’t a cop at all.
Lifting his phone from his pocket, Scott opened a web browser and typed in the name Elizabeth McKay…
* * *
Waiting in the small cabin, invisible to the outside world, Beth could finally take off her wig, stand under a shower, change her clothes, then stretch out and nap. But much as she wanted to relax, there was an important task that couldn’t wait. She needed to hide the money…
Chapter 2
Dumbfounded by what his internet search revealed, Scott slid onto a barstool, placed his food order, then bought a beer. As he took a drink, he found it hard to believe the capricious young woman on his boat would be capable of committing the heinous crimes described in the news reports.
“You want another beer, Scott?”
Jack’s voic
e snatched his attention. Glancing at the bottle, Scott discovered he’d been so lost in thought he’d almost finished it off without realizing.
“No, thanks. I’ve ordered dinner and I’ll be taking it back to the boat.”
“Why don’t you stick around? I’m about ready to eat. I want to be done before the happy hour rush.”
“I’d like to, but I might have company and I need to get back,” Scott replied, picturing Beth in her sexy sundress. “Nothing’s definite, but I’m getting enough just in case. I might even take off for a few days.”
“Sounds promising,” Jack said with a grin.
“Here you go, Scott.”
Turning around, Scott found Mandy, Jack’s perky waitress, placing several plastic bags on the counter.
“And here’s your receipt,” she continued. “Do you want to check it’s all there?”
“No, I’m sure it’s fine,” Scott answered, reaching into his pocket for the fifty-dollar bills Beth had given him, but thinking about what he’d just read, he abruptly changed his mind. Retrieving his wallet, he handed over a credit card.
“Are you having a party?” Mandy asked hopefully as she ran the charge.
“Nope, just a friend over, and I’ll probably take off for an evening cruise so I wanted a bit extra.”
“Rough life you lead, Captain Scott,” she quipped with a wink, handing him the credit slip.
He paused.
It was a phrase he often heard, and he’d usually reply with, Hey, it’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta to do it, but caught between a questionable cop and a woman in distress, his cheery quip rang hollow in his head.
“Mandy, sometimes things are not always what they seem.”
* * *
The bed took up most of the cabin with a narrow shelf between the mattress and sides of the hull. Climbing on, and dragging her bag up to the pillows, Beth had studied the decorative cushions.
Her Very Strict Captain Page 2