Pirate of My Heart: A Novel

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Authors: Jamie Carie
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Christian
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with a flash of irritation, took a short breath, and knocked.
    “Come in,” her sweet voice called.
    He opened the door, feeling large and clumsy as he entered the cabin. His voice came out in gruff disharmony to hers, “Are you ready for your fresh air?”
    “Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to come tonight, but I would love to get out of this cabin for a little while. Do you think we shall see the sunset? I do imagine that the best parts of sailing are the sunrise and sunset.” She flashed him a brilliant smile that gave his knees a strange weakness. He barely heard her feminine chatter.
    He cleared his throat, noticing the simple blue gown and low-scooped neckline. He couldn’t seem to tear his gaze from her rising and falling bosom. He cleared his throat again and turned his head toward the wall. “The wind is a bit cool tonight, you should take a cloak.”
    “Yes, of course. I imagine the wind blowing off the cold Atlantic can be quite chilly at night, even in the summertime. I have so much to learn about ship life. Have you been sailing long?” It would seem she wanted to start anew and had forgiven his earlier comments. She reached for a blue satin cloak that was hanging on one of the hooks beside his bed as the stream of chatter continued.
    Dorian stepped forward to fasten it for her, a movement of habit, as he would have done with his mother or sisters. He didn’t consider the differences of what he was doing until he was near enough to smell the light scent of some floral fragrance she must have applied. He didn’t usually care a jot about perfume, thinking it more a nuisance than an attraction, but something about the mix of lavender and mint perhaps, he wasn’t sure what it was, was pleasing to his senses. “Here, let me help you with that.”
    Lady Townsend hesitated for a second, her gaze assessing, and then gave him a thoughtful smile and handed him the cloak. She turned, her hands reaching up by the slim column of her neck to grasp for it. Dorian’s hands just brushed across the cool skin of her neck before she grasped the ties and took a step away, but he was certain he’d heard a tight gasp when he touched her. She turned toward him, her face becoming pink, her gaze darting about the room, roving on anything but him.
    Dorian held out his arm. “Shall we, my lady?”
    Lady Townsend bit her lower lip with little white teeth and then took his arm, her prattle ceasing with the tension.
    Minutes later they had traversed the narrow hall, climbed the stairs to the top deck of the ship, and were standing side by side at the railing. Dorian searched for a topic of conversation to get her mind off what had happened in the cabin and restore some semblance of normalcy to their outing. “Was the man who was with you when you boarded really your uncle?”
    “Yes, he was my father’s twin brother.”
    “Was?”
    “My father died over a year ago.” As she said it a great heaviness seemed to fall upon her. Her slim shoulders drooped; she looked down and gazed into the lapping gray water.
    She appeared so forlorn, standing there rubbing the backs of her arms as if to ward off the chill her words had caused. He fought the astounding urge that filled him—to take her into his arms and comfort her. Instead, he murmured, “I’m sorry, my lady. I am very close to my parents and can’t imagine the day when they will no longer be with me. It must be difficult for you.”
    She looked up at him with a small, sad smile. There was a look of honesty and vulnerability in her face, glowing with the last rays of the sun, that took his breath away.
    “Yes, it is. Thank you. And Captain. Please, call me Kendra. I find the phrase ‘my lady’ coming from you sounds more an insult than an honored title.”
    She said it with soft humor, causing Dorian to look down and laugh. “Thank you, Kendra, I am honored. You, of course, must call me Captain, as I like hearing that word in your lilting English accent.”
    Kendra

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