Stranded with the Captain

by Sharon Hartley

  Maybe she’d find the courage with a little more booze.

  She poured her diet cola into a plastic cup, added ice, a healthy shot of rum and took a sip. Not bad. Debbie would insist on lime, but that was too much trouble.

  Armed with her drink, Cat hurried up the steps to the cockpit where a gorgeous coral-streaked sky welcomed her. She froze when she spotted Javi sitting on the bow leaning against an aluminum railing and chugging out of their bottle of champagne. Or was it a second bottle?

  He was bare-chested, as usual, but had changed into a dry pair of shorts.

  How did he get up on deck without her noticing?

  * * *

  JAVI TOOK THE last swig of the champagne as he admired Irish’s approach. This novice sailor already had her sea legs—and such amazing legs they were. His gaze followed the lines of firm, strong thighs and curved calves beneath her shorts.

  He frowned. Too pale. He hoped she didn’t burn.

  But anyway, she was off-limits. Why couldn’t he remember that?

  He’d heard the entire conversation between her and her friends. No help for it on a boat this size.

  So she’d been abandoned for the night. Was she lonely? Looking for company to watch the sunset? Or something else.

  Well, of course he aimed to please. He nestled the empty champagne bottle on the deck where it couldn’t roll overboard.

  Irish sat down beside him, also facing the setting sun. Close enough to catch the fragrance of coconut-scented sunscreen.

  Close enough for him to touch her.

  “Oh,” she said. “The hatch. Of course.”

  He squinted at her. “What about the hatch?”

  “I couldn’t figure out how you got up here, but you boosted yourself up through the opening in your cabin.”

  He nodded. So maybe she didn’t want company, after all. Maybe she’d thought she’d have the deck to herself. Once again he’d misread her.

  Irish had paid good money for use of this boat. He ought to give her some space.

  “Do you want me to go below?” he asked.

  “What?” She blinked. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “If you want privacy. I don’t mind.” Like hell he didn’t.

  “No. Please don’t go.”

  “You want me to stay?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She wrinkled her brow.

  Was she confused or thinking hard?

  “That is, you know, if you want to,” she said.

  Maybe she was just being polite. She did appear to be the polite type.

  “I wanted to watch the sun do its thing,” Javi said.

  “Me, too,” she said, taking a sip from her cup.

  “We can look for the green flash.”

  “The green flash? Do comic book heroes make regular appearances in Gun Cay?”

  He laughed. So she had a sense of humor.

  “Maybe, but the green flash is an eerie light that sparks sometimes just as the sun slips below the horizon.”

  She refocused that direction. “Really?”

  “Sailors all over the world watch for it. It’s beautiful, but elusive, difficult to spot. Atmospheric conditions have to be just right.”

  “You’ve seen it?”

  “A few times. Never in the Bahamas, though.”

  She nodded, and took another drink. “Are you hungry? I was going to knock on your door and see if you wanted dinner.”

  “What are you offering?”

  She shot him a quick, surprised look, color again flushing her cheeks, and he grinned at her.

  She smiled back. Shaking her head, she glanced toward the sunset again. He followed her gaze, and found the sky glorious with a rich crimson color.

  “I was thinking something quick,” she said.

  “Ah. So, a quickie.”

  Now she laughed, the sound low and sweet, sensual, affecting him in places it shouldn’t. He knew how his comments sounded, how she was taking them, but couldn’t help himself. He enjoyed playing with this woman.

  She took another healthy swallow of whatever was in her cup. Must be liquid courage. She clearly wanted to participate in this game, but didn’t appear to have much experience at it.

  “I hadn’t figured you for the quickie type,” he said. “I thought somehow long and slow.”

  Still smiling, she closed her eyes and shivered. He stroked a finger down the gooseflesh that sprang up on her arm.

  “Are you chilly?” he asked. “I can go below and get you a jacket.”

  “I’m not cold,” she said, turning the full force of her emerald eyes on him. “I actually think I’m rather overheated.”

  He held her gaze. “That makes two of us.”

  “I was right,” she murmured. “You are dangerous.”

  “Worse, I think I might be a little drunk,” he said. “Doing and saying things I shouldn’t.”

  “That makes two of us,” she said with a charming giggle.

  He sniffed her drink. Definitely rum, which explained a lot.

  “But I’m the captain,” he said. “I should avoid unprofessional behavior.”

  “Dangerous,” she repeated.

  “In many ways.”

  She offered him her cup, and he took a long swallow.

  “I won’t tell if you won’t,” she whispered.

  Javi shook his head. What were they talking about now? “Your friends are behind a flimsy door,” he said.

  “So we’ll be quiet.”

  He nodded. “I do think you might be the quiet type.”

  “That’s what everyone says.”

  Did he hear a touch of resentment in her voice? Or was he imagining things?

  She glanced toward the sun and he followed her gaze. The orb was now half above and half below the horizon, shimmering with luminous intensity.

  “Let’s find out how loud I can be,” she said.

  Irish placed her cup on the deck, scooted to the hatch to his cabin and lowered herself through the opening.

  Javi blinked. Had she just done that?

  Her head reappeared, followed by an arm. She snatched her rum.

  Then she disappeared again.

  * * *

  CAT’S HEART THUNDERED inside her chest as she quickly absorbed how tidy everything was inside Javi’s small cabin. Books with strange titles about guns and forensics lined the shelves. She placed her drink on a table and smoothed the cover on the expertly made bed.

  She closed her eyes at a sudden terrifying thought.

  What if he didn’t follow her? Maybe he wasn’t as hot for her as she was for him. Maybe he preferred to remain on deck and wait for this fabulous green flashing thing.

  She looked through the hatch at the sky’s brilliant colors.

  Why was she behaving like such an idiot? Because she’d had too much to drink, that’s why.

  She should just open the door and hurry into her own cabin. Reasons existed, good reasons, for why she shouldn’t—

  Javi’s legs appeared in the opening. He lowered himself smoothly to her side—a far different landing than her uncontrolled leap.

  His gaze collided with hers. He smiled, but left his arms overhead, as if he might hoist himself back up.

  Admiring his flexed muscles, so close to her face, she didn’t doubt for a second that he had the strength to do that.

  But she didn’t want him to.

  She’d come this far, a miracle for sure. No way was she backing out now. She swallowed, searching for the courage to take the next step. She wanted this. She truly did, but, well, frankly, she wanted him to make the first move. Coward.

  Cat swallowed. Why was it so hard to breathe?

  “Having second thoughts?” he a
sked, his a voice soft like a caress.

  “No.”

  She sucked in a deep breath, placed her palms on his chest and slid her fingers up to his shoulders, stepping so close that their bodies almost touched. She could smell the clean, salty ocean on his flesh, the wine on his breath.

  He hesitated, dark eyes troubled, searching her face.

  The boat rocked slightly beneath her feet.

  She was again losing her chance to do something reckless, to live in the moment. Because she was afraid.

  She was always afraid.

  She met his gaze and let out a relieved breath at what she saw in his eyes. The captain wanted her.

  Before he could ask something stupid like if she was sure, she placed her lips on his and closed her eyes.

  With a moan—of surrender? Regret?—he pulled her close and changed her light kiss into mouth-plundering possession. His hands clasped her buttocks and pressed her hips against an impressive erection. Lost to overwhelming sensation between her thighs—far better than the beard on her cheek—Cat ground against him.

  He grabbed handfuls of her T-shirt and jerked it free of her shorts. Before her muddled brain could register what was happening, he’d released her bra and her bare breasts smashed against his chest.

  They fell back into his bunk together. He kissed her again, then pulled back and slid a hand to caress her breasts, murmuring words she couldn’t process. When he lowered his lips to her nipple, she arched into his mouth.

  He released her zipper with one quick movement and tossed her shorts away.

  He kicked off his own shorts, sheathed himself and moved on top of her. She moaned when their naked flesh met.

  “Open your eyes, Irish,” he murmured.

  She did. Intense dark eyes glittered down at her, his forearms on either side of her head holding him in place.

  He entered her with a quick, thrilling thrust. She bit her lip so she wouldn’t cry out. Holding her gaze, he began a sweet, sensual rhythm that she answered without thinking.

  Pressure—sweet sensual pressure—coiled inside her, built, tightened, until pleasure took over her whole body, and she wasn’t sure where Javi’s flesh ended and hers began. She closed her eyes, unable to bear any more—and then the tension broke, the amazing release filling her. Wow. Apparently she had been missing something.

  Javi’s face altered with what she hoped was enjoyment equal to her own. A spasm inside her told her he’d achieved his own release, and he collapsed beside her with a groan.

  She breathed out a sigh and closed her eyes. Spree rocked gently underneath her, like a baby’s cradle. Funny thought to have after what they’d just done. She was boneless. So relaxed, so exhausted from lack of sleep and drained from fabulous sex, her body could probably float into the air.

  Talk about memorable vacations. The brochure wasn’t kidding.

  “Hey,” Javi murmured, his voice hoarse.

  “Hmm?”

  He leaned over her, his breath light on her bare flesh. “You okay, Irish?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she murmured, lifting her hand to run a finger down his warm cheek, loving the feel of his beard. “I am much more than okay.”

  He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “Me, too.”

  He turned his head to kiss her palm. The touch of his lips sent a shiver down her spine, depleting her last bit of energy. Her hand fell to the bed, seemingly of its own volition.

  “I have to sleep now,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

  “Sleep tight, babe. You deserve it.”

  Already half-asleep, she felt herself smile. Babe.

  CHAPTER SIX

  JAVI AWOKE TO the sounds of someone opening and closing drawers in the main saloon. Spree rocked gently on her anchor as he stared through the open hatch at a blue sky. Rigging clanged against the metal mast and a seagull squawked somewhere close by. He inhaled the salty essence of mangroves and realized he was naked.

  Irish curled up beside him—also naked—made a soft noise and snuggled closer. Glorious red hair spread out across his pillow.

  He froze. What had he done?

  Javi scrubbed a hand down his face. Maybe he could get Irish on deck before her friends learned where she’d spent the night.

  One of the women in the main cabin—he was certain it was Debbie—said, “I can’t find the damn coffee. Wake up, Cat.”

  After soft rapping, he heard Joanie say, “Cat, are you up yet?”

  Javi sat up and shook Irish gently. “You need to wake up, honey.”

  She opened those amazing green eyes and focused on him with a sleepy smile. Then she jumped back, so startled she banged her head on the cabin’s wall.

  “Hey, careful,” he whispered.

  Staring at him, rubbing her skull with one hand, the other clutching a sheet to hide her fabulous breasts, she opened her mouth to speak, but closed it. A deep red flush started in her neck and spread into her cheeks.

  “Oh, my God,” Joan shouted in the outer cabin. “Deb, Cat’s not in her cabin.”

  “Calm down. She probably slept under the stars again,” Debbie said.

  “Of course,” Joan said. “That must be it.”

  Irish’s eyes shot to the open hatch overhead. Good. She’d get up on deck before—

  But someone—likely Joan—clomped up the companionway, her hurried steps close to his ears.

  Irish met his gaze, then shook her head. Too late.

  Javi sighed. What a disaster. Marlin would never forgive him.

  On deck, Joan issued a small scream and rushed back into the saloon. “Debbie, she’s not here.”

  “No way. Are you sure?”

  “This isn’t that big of a boat. She’s gone.”

  “Is the dinghy still there?”

  “Yes. She fell overboard. God, it’s like Natalie Wood.”

  “We need to wake up the captain,” Debbie said.

  “And call the Bahamian coast guard.”

  Javi searched for their clothing as one of them banged on his cabin door.

  “Javi. Damn it. Wake up.”

  He was halfway out of bed reaching for Cat’s T-shirt, his bare ass in the air, when the door burst open. Of course he hadn’t locked the door.

  “Cat’s missing,” Deb yelled. “We need to—”

  She stood unmoving in the open door, her gaze flickering between him and Irish. Joan’s wide-eyed face hovered over Debbie’s shoulder.

  Javi eased himself back onto the bed. Irish covered him with the other end of her sheet.

  “I’m not missing,” she squeaked.

  “No,” Debbie said. “I can see that.”

  “Cattleya Sidran,” Joan said in a voice that was in equal parts admiration, respect and shock.

  “Excuse us.” Debbie shut the door.

  Expecting anger, blame—God knew what—Javi refocused on Irish. He deserved every shred of censure she threw at him.

  Instead, she bit her bottom lip in an obvious effort to keep from laughing.

  “Did you see the look on Debbie’s face?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” Javi said cautiously. “I think she was surprised to find you in my bed.”

  “And weren’t you surprised to find me in your bed?”

  “Well, I—”

  “Don’t answer that,” she interrupted, her gaze sweeping the cabin. “You probably considered me a sure thing. Where are my clothes?”

  “A sure thing?” He grabbed Irish’s T-shirt and shorts and tossed them to her.

  “You know, an easy conquest,” she said.

  “Conquest?” Did she think she was some kind of a notch on his belt?

  “Turn around, please,” she said, making a circular motion with her hand.

 
“A little late for modesty, isn’t it?”

  When she flushed again, Javi turned his back and stepped into his own shorts. “I don’t consider you a conquest,” he said.

  “Whatever. I’m decent.”

  When he faced her again, she combed her fingers through her mass of tangled hair, trying to make order out of chaos. She lowered her hands and swallowed, then cleared her throat.

  “Well,” she said, smoothing her shirtsleeves. “This is awkward.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.” Or maybe it did.

  She bit her bottom lip again, but this time she wasn’t laughing. “Look. I don’t suppose there’s any chance we could just forget this—” she patted the rumpled bed “—ever happened?”

  “Is that what you want?” he asked.

  She nodded, looking relieved. “Absolutely.”

  “Can your friends forget what they saw?”

  “They’ll be okay.” She scooted to the edge of the bed and stood. “I’ll talk to them, say how I was drunk and overtired. We both were.”

  Javi ran a hand through his hair. Irish was sure behaving reasonably. Maybe this would be okay. Just a rare lapse in judgment on his part. Should he apologize?

  For what? She’d jumped into his cabin.

  And he wasn’t the least bit sorry. Well, maybe he regretted how rushed they’d been. Talk about a quickie. Definitely not his finest hour. No wonder she wanted to forget the whole thing.

  “I promise not to blame you when I explain.” Irish fought a smile. “Debbie already hates men.”

  “They’ll be snarky for the rest of the week,” Javi said.

  “Debbie is already snarky. Hadn’t you noticed?”

  Irish brushed against him on her way to the door. He inhaled the essence of her, smelling himself on her, their sex, and he had the sudden urge to lure her back to bed for a do-over.

  No, she should go. Of course she should go.

  She was making this easy for him. Maybe Marlin would never hear about this debacle. He should do what she said, forget last night had ever happened, and be grateful for the pass.

  Yeah, like that could happen.

  “Wait,” he said.

  She paused, her hand on the doorknob. “I need to go talk to them.” She made a face. “Damage control.”

  He placed his hand above her against the door so she couldn’t open it. “Wait a minute.”