Her Very Strict Captain

by Carpenter, Maggie

  Elated to find they were zippered, she quickly opened them, removed some of the foam fill, replaced it with wads of bills, then put back as much of the padding as possible. Emptying the few items of clothing she had with her, she pushed the leftover stuffing to the bottom of her bag and repacked it.

  But she still had four rolls of cash.

  An idea flashed through her head.

  Moving quickly into the compact bathroom, she opened the cupboard under the sink and immediately broke into a smile. Sitting in front of her was exactly what she’d been hoping for: an unopened packet of six toilet tissue rolls. Hastily pulling it out, she poked her finger through the plastic wrap into each of the cardboard cylinders and dropped in the rolled bills. Letting out a breath of relief, she pushed the package back into the cabinet.

  With the cash safely tucked away, she quickly stripped off and stood under the small shower. Washing away two days of grime and shampooing her matted hair, she toweled off and dressed in shorts and a T-shirt.

  Though she was feeling almost normal, her shoulders and neck were cramped from being on the run and carrying the heavy bag. Moving back into the cabin and stretching out on the bed, she gratefully closed her eyes.

  Scott’s image floated to the front of her mind, and as if by magic, there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” she called, opening her eyes and sitting up.

  Scott entered, his face solemn.

  “After sleeping on the ground this bed is sheer heaven,” she remarked gratefully.

  He tilted his head to the side as if studying her.

  “I used to take surfing trips to Tijuana with my boyfriend,” she continued, uncomfortable under his inscrutable gaze and lack of response. “We’d sack out in the bed of his truck or on the sand. It was great, but looking back I don’t know how I did it.”

  “It was a choice,” he said, finally speaking. “Doing something because you want to is very different from doing something because you have to.”

  “No kidding,” she murmured, thinking back to the carefree days as she absently rubbed the back of her neck. “Those were happy times.”

  “Sore?”

  “Very, from lugging that bag around.”

  “I’ve closed up the salon and lowered the sunshades. You can sit at the table for dinner and not be seen.”

  “That’s great, thanks, I’m starving.”

  Sliding down the mattress, she accepted his hand to help her off, but he didn’t step back, and as she stood up they were only inches apart.

  “Glad to see that wig is off.”

  “You didn’t like me as a blonde?”

  “Let’s just say I prefer you as a brunette. Turn around.”

  It had been a command, not a request.

  Not sure what to expect as she pivoted on her feet, to her great relief he began kneading her knotted muscles.

  “That feels amazing,” she breathed, closing her eyes. “Your hands are so strong.”

  “I’m a sailor,” he said simply. “Tell me, Beth, are you acquainted with a cop named Detective Miller?”

  Jolted by the question, she spun around and stared at him.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “H-how do you know him?” she asked urgently, trying to control her panic.

  “I don’t, but I ran into him when I picked up dinner. He had an old photograph of you, and he seemed anxious to know if I’d—”

  “Fuck! You didn’t tell him I was here, did you?”

  “It’s a bad idea to lie to the police,” Scott said grimly, “but, no. I told him I hadn’t seen a girl with brown hair and glasses, which I haven’t. He seemed pretty intent on finding you. The problem is, if he comes to this marina and starts asking around, he might get the answer he’s looking for. Someone could have seen you climb on board.”

  Fear coursing through her veins, she flopped on the end of the bed.

  “I can’t stay here,” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “I’m a sitting duck. Can we take off? I’ll pay whatever you want.”

  “I told you I wasn’t taking you anywhere until I knew what was going on. That hasn’t changed. In fact, after meeting—”

  “But it’s a really long story,” she bleated, cutting him off and staring at him with pleading eyes, “and he could walk down the dock asking questions any minute.”

  “Then I guess you’d better start talking, and you can start by telling me if he really is a detective.”

  “Yeah, but he’s a crook with a capital K.”

  “What about you? Are you a crook with a capital K?”

  “No! Of course not!”

  “Don’t shout at me,” he warned, lowering his voice. “You disappeared with no word six months ago, and now you’ve shown up out of the blue apparently running for your life. Do you seriously expect me to just say, sure, no problem, I’ll help you disappear?”

  “I, uh, when you put it like that…”

  “Beth, I don’t know anything about you. Or should I be calling you Elizabeth?”

  * * *

  Scott could see the panic in her big blue eyes, but the time for fun and games was over. Though he had an unnervingly strong urge to help her, he didn’t want to be found hiding a fugitive.

  “So, uh, you know my name?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Elizabeth McKay.”

  “What else?”

  “Nope,” Scott said firmly. “You’re the one who needs to be answering questions.”

  “Hello? Anyone here?” As Dan Miller’s deep voice echoed down from the deck, Elizabeth gasped, then hurriedly dove to the floor alongside the bed furthest from the windows.

  “Fuck! I should have pulled down the shades,” she whispered frantically. “Oh, dear God, I hope he didn’t spot me.”

  “Captain Scott? Hello? It’s Detective Miller. I need to speak with you.”

  “If he’d spotted you, he wouldn’t be yelling for me,” Scott said softly.

  “Can he get in?”

  “No, everything’s locked up, and like I said, he can’t see inside the salon.”

  “Hello? Hello?”

  “He’s a persistent asshole,” Scott grunted.

  “Persistent?” she repeated. “Trust me, you have no idea. What’s that noise?”

  “It sounds as if he’s rattling the door.”

  “Shit. He knows how to pick locks. He even carries a wallet with special tools.”

  “Stay here.”

  Darting into the bathroom, Scott hastily stripped, stood under the shower for a few seconds, then wrapped a towel around his waist and hurried up to the salon. He entered just as Dan Miller walked through the door.

  “The door was open,” the detective declared, abruptly pausing his step.

  “The hell it was. I always lock it when I step into the shower. You just broke in!” Scott exclaimed, then deciding to put the man to the test, he reached for his phone sitting on the table. “I’m calling the police.”

  “I am the police,” the detective growled.

  “Where’s your warrant?”

  “I have cause to believe—”

  “You have cause to believe nothing,” Scott retorted, “and I’m calling the real police. The ones who actually have authority on this island.”

  Keeping his eye on him and ready for just about anything, Scott picked up his phone and punched in Jack’s number.

  “Hey, Scott,” Jack said, answering on the first ring.

  “Hi, this is Captain Scott Specter from the Victoria Sailing School. I’m calling to report a break-in. I’m on my boat and—”

  But before he could finish speaking, Dan Miller turned on his heel and marched away.

  “Scott? What’s going on?” Jack asked urgently.

  “That so-called detective just broke into my yacht,” Scott replied, quickly closing the door. “I said I was calling the police, and as soon as I started talking to you, he bolted.”

  “What the hell?”

  “Exactly, what the h
ell?” Scott said angrily.

  “I’m calling the station right now. A couple of the guys stop in here for drinks after their shift. I’ll ask them if they’ve heard about him.”

  “Good idea, keep me posted, and just so you know, I’ll be sailing out of here before sunset.”

  * * *

  Daniel Miller strode down the wharf and climbed into his rental car. He’d been shocked when he’d discovered Elizabeth had returned to the Caribbean via Puerto Rico.

  The girl was crazy, but crazy like a fox.

  Victoria Sailing School was the company she had chartered from six months before, and the boat had been captained by Scott Specter. Running into him at the Shady Shack had been unexpected, but the good captain had claimed not to recognize her. Though his excuse had been plausible, Dan still wasn’t sure what to believe—or think—or do next.

  Elizabeth had a way of outmaneuvering him, and she always seemed to be one step ahead. He’d found the beach house she’d been renting and staked it out, but she hadn’t returned.

  Cursing himself for getting caught breaking into the yacht, he put his foot down and sped from the parking lot—then suddenly slamming on his brakes, he darted his eyes back to the marina.

  Captain Scott’s boat was the only one with the shades down.

  “Dammit,” Dan hissed under his breath. “You haven’t seen the last of me.”

  Returning to his parking space, he pulled out his phone and placed a call to his boss in L.A. Though Dan only had a supposition, he could make it sound like more.

  His demanding boss was edgy, but that was nothing unusual.

  Finally managing to convince him results were at hand, he ended the call, climbed from his car, and scanned the marina.

  The tranquil turquoise water was swallowing up the golden sun.

  Long shadows covered the ground.

  A clear sky promised a peaceful night.

  Taking in a long breath, he wiped his sweating brow with his shirt sleeve, then started back down the dock. Moving at a leisurely pace, he passed a couple of people on the way. They smiled, he smiled back. Reaching the catamaran, he quietly climbed on board, his long legs making the move easy and silent, then creeping up to the door, he crouched down and strained to listen.

  Scott spoke. A female voice answered.

  Dan considered his options.

  Elizabeth was wanted by the authorities in Los Angeles. Though he didn’t have jurisdiction, he had his badge. He’d be within his rights to hold her and call the local police, and they’d be obliged to help him.

  Gently testing the door, he was elated to find it unlocked.

  Softly pushing it open, he dramatically burst into the cabin.

  “Elizabeth McKay, you’re under arrest!”

  Chapter 3

  Staring at the shocked face of the lanky detective bent over and standing in the doorway, Scott hastily stepped in front of the startled young waitress from the Shady Shack.

  “Okay, that’s it,” Scott exclaimed angrily. “I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m contacting the local police and filing an official complaint.”

  “I’m sorry,” Dan began haltingly. “I thought—”

  “I don’t give a shit what you thought,” Scott barked, cutting him off. “First you break in here, and now this. Carrying a badge doesn’t give you the right to come barging in any time you want. Don’t come back unless you have a warrant.”

  A dark frown furrowing his brow, the detective turned to leave, but banged his head on the top of the door frame.

  “Fuck!” he snarled, urgently rubbing the sore spot. “Damn boats.”

  Scott was tempted to make a smart retort, but not wanting to make the situation any worse he held his tongue.

  “What was all that about?” Mandy asked, obviously shaken by the intrusion.

  “He must have thought you were that girl he’s looking for,” Scott replied, closing the door and watching Dan Miller stride off down the dock.

  “But he showed me the picture. I don’t look anything like her.”

  “Who knows what his story is, and I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Scott said with a heavy sigh. “Here, take this,” he continued, giving her a ten-dollar bill, “and thanks for bringing the chips and salsa.”

  “You’re welcome, but jeez, what a creepy guy.”

  “Steer clear of him.”

  “Don’t worry, I will.”

  Helping her off the catamaran, he walked with her a short distance to make sure the obnoxious detective had left, then quickly returned to the salon and called Jack.

  “Hi, Scott, perfect timing,” Jack declared, answering the call on the first ring. “I’ve just finished talking to Jay, one of the cops I told you about. Dan Miller did check in, but he was told he couldn’t take any action without notifying them.”

  “Well, he did, and he was just here again,” Scott exclaimed. “Mandy was dropping off the chips and salsa she forgot to put in the bags, and he burst through the door threatening to arrest that woman he’s looking for. The guy is out of control.”

  “What? He can’t do that. I’m calling Jay back right now to tell him about this.”

  “I think you should, then can you come over for a minute? I want to leave, but I’m here by myself and I need another pair of hands for the lines.”

  “Sure, and I take it this means your date showed up?”

  “Yep, and I’m setting sail before that asshole decides to come back.”

  “Good idea, I’ll be right there.”

  “Thanks, Jack.”

  * * *

  Music had always soothed Elizabeth’s soul, and under strict orders to wait in her cabin until Scott returned, she had retrieved her iPod from her bag. Pushing the EarPods in place, she’d stretched out and closed her eyes. Exhausted from no sleep, no food, and the danger swirling around her, she soon drifted off, remaining sublimely unaware of the drama playing out in the salon. But in her dreams, she had her own scene evolving…

  Carrying her against his hip like a sack of potatoes, the muscled seaman crossed the deck and kicked open the door of his cabin.

  “Let me go, you bastard,” she squealed, trying to squirm from his fierce hold.

  “You’ve always been a spirited wench, but I’ll soon tame you,” he retorted, marching across to his bed. “A good walloping will put you in your place, then you’ll find out what it’s like to be taken by a real man.”

  “You’re not a man,” she wailed, trying to beat him with her fists. “You’re a beast and a brute.”

  Ignoring her feeble attempts to escape, he settled on the side of the bed and effortlessly shifted her across his lap.

  “I’ve watched you wiggle your hips walking around in that tavern, now I’ll finally see your naked ass.”

  “No, no, stop!”

  “Be quiet and be still, or you’ll be sorry,” he warned, tightly holding her as he lifted the folds of her dress over her waist.

  Mortified and afraid, she held her breath, waiting for the inevitable exposure.

  “Ah yes, full and plump just as I thought…” he mumbled, smoothing his hand over her backside.

  Though still covered by the thin cotton pantaloons, she could feel the roughness of his hand as he fondled and lightly slapped her backside.

  “Already she settles,” he grunted. “Perhaps she’s easier to tame than I thought.”

  “She?” Elizabeth shouted impulsively, infuriated by his comment and violently kicking out her legs.

  Laughing out loud, he placed his leg over the back of her knees and landed a flurry of hot, stinging swats. Though she wailed and tried to gyrate her hips away from the smarting smacks, he had her locked in place.

  “Disobey and my hand talks for me. Do you understand?”

  “Ooh, yes…”

  “You will say yes, Captain.”

  “Yes, Captain,” she whimpered.

  “Don’t forget it,” he added sternly, delivering another searing smack.
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  “I won’t. Please don’t spank me anymore.”

  “Ha, foolish wench. I’ve only started to tame you. Do as I say and be still.”

  Taking in a deep breath, she tried to calm her thundering heart, but not because of his barked command. If she was to get away she needed to think.

  When he’d scooped her up in the alley behind the tavern, she’d been unable to see his face, and she wanted to describe him to the constable if she was able to escape.

  She dared to look over her shoulder.

  To her dismay, the only light came from a small lamp in the corner of the room, and his long hair hung around his face, shielding his features.

  But something glinting in the amber glow snatched her attention.

  She caught her breath.

  He held a short, fat blade.

  She watched, terrified, as he slipped it beneath the waist of her pantaloons. Deftly flicking his wrist, he sliced through the cord holding them up. Chuckling as he swiftly returned the knife to its sheath, he gripped the thin fabric and ripped it apart, exposing her naked charms. Mortified and humiliated, she dropped her head and covered her face with her hands.

  “Already pink, but I’ll tan it red and you’ll learn to behave,” he declared, roughly squeezing her fleshy cheeks, then clutching a fistful of her long locks and jerking her head up, he added, “Tonight we begin our voyage of pleasure.”

  “Our pleasure?” she whimpered. “I see nor feel any pleasure in this.”

  “You will, my little wench, but first you must learn your place.”

  Abruptly releasing her hair, his flattened palm rained hot slaps on her bare behind.

  “I’ll do what you say,” she howled as he delivered stinging blow after stinging blow. “I will, I promise. Ooh, please, Captain, please, no more. I promise to—”

  “Making promises is easy,” he grunted, cutting her off but continuing to blast his rough hand from cheek to cheek. “Keeping them, that’s the trick,” he continued, whisking his palm across the sensitive area at the top of her thighs. “I’ll be smacking this ass often and hard, that’s my promise, one that will never be broken. You will learn to obey me, little wench.”