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Authors: Suzie Grant

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BOOK: Wrong Kind of Paradise
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She smiled. “Perhaps. I wouldn’t mind seeing a man on his knees for once.”

Once again his mouth dropped open. “Where did you learn such filthy language?” He shook his

head. “Don’t answer.” He already knew the answer. Living amongst pirates and prostitutes her entire life,

with a father who doted on his daughter entirely too much, what else should he expect? “Logan should

really consider locking you up somewhere,” he grumbled as he reached for her arm. There was little to no

privacy on Logan’s island, and the infamous pirate certainly hadn’t tried to curb what his eighteen-year-

old daughter had witnessed over the years.

He seized her arm to stay her, but she attempted to jerk out of his grasp. He held firm.

“Do you wish to take up where Eric left off?” she asked.

He paused and arched a single brow. “Meaning what exactly?”

“Meaning remove your hands from me this instant or find yourself flat on your back with my sword

at your throat.”

Surprise widened his gaze, but he couldn’t let this little challenge pass. Not by any means.

Aware of their audience, Blac, pulled her closer by the upper arm so the others wouldn’t overhear.

“Angel,” he whispered against her ear. “Let me be the first to warn you...despite being Logan’s daughter,

should you try it, you will learn soon enough what it is like to have a seasoned sailor between those

lovely thighs of yours. And I assure you, little one, it’ll be an experience you won’t soon forget.”

Cerulean eyes rose to his. He saw no fear. Instead, her soft lips spread into an invitation. “I have

waited half a lifetime to hear those words from you. I assure you, I look forward to the day those words

become reality.”

She leaned up, laying a hand on his chest for balance. Heat seared the skin on his chest from her

palm and the fervor in her eyes scorched him to his toes. “It is you who will be surprised, as I am more

than woman enough to handle the ride you so temptingly offer.” With a toss of her flaxen locks, she

whirled and headed back toward the village.

Had the little vixen just promised to lay with him or had he been fantasizing again?

Blac stood, still digesting her words. Surely, he’d just misheard her. But, his gaze followed the

movement of those hips before she disappeared around the curve in the trail.

A macaw screeched, taking flight above him and jarred him out of his trance. He took one step, then

another.

Those weren’t the hips of a child, and by God, he’d just heard the very words he’d dreamed of

hearing from her since he’d returned.

Angel needed a lesson in propriety. And he damn sure didn’t mind being the man to give it to her.

She crossed the bridge ahead of him. He ran now, darting between the palms to catch up. His hand

glided across the rough, oak rail as the Jamaican Mango hummingbird flitted from side to side to avoid

him.

He jerked her around so hard she lost her balance and fell into him. He caught her but paused.
Why

did she have to feel so soft? So smooth?

“Does your father know you speak so openly, miss?” he asked.

“Does my father know you lust after me?” she countered.

Blac let go of her as if he’d just been burned. “Any woman who is scantily clad in a pair of cut off

pants will arouse a man’s lust. Not just mine, Angel.”

“It isn’t the pants arousing your lust, Blac. It’s what’s beneath them.”

He ground his teeth together.
Yes, and I can imagine running my hands across those smooth

thighs.

“How will your father feel should he learn what a little tease his daughter has become?”

She snorted. “He hasn’t even noticed I have breasts yet.” She crossed her arms, and his gaze

immediately fell to said breasts. She laughed. “Ahh, but you have. Haven’t you, Captain?” He turned

away from her. “Look at me, Blac.” She said his name like a caress. “Look at me.”

God’s bones.

He looked. He shouldn’t have.

“You’ve noticed I’m all grown up.” She ran her hands down her sides to emphasize her point. “It

didn’t take much for you to notice I’m a woman now with a woman’s needs.”

No
,
it hadn’t taken much at all.

By God, I’m a decade older than Angel. I should be stoned for thinking these things.

She’d developed an infatuation with him over the years but he’d never imagined he’d feel anything

beyond friendship for her. That it would turn into something...like...

Obsession.

Passion.

Lust.

He’d been so careful to mask the growing attraction for her. Blac wiped a single hand across his

face. How did one tell an infamous pirate his daughter was chasing him about like a dockside whore? The

little hellion knew more about flirting than a seasoned courtesan.

If she kept up this kind of behavior, Angel would be married and pregnant by year’s end by one of

his men.

Or worse, by him.

~*~

“Ever since your return you’ve watched me,” Angel whispered. “I’ve felt your eyes.” For four

years she’d waited for some sign of interest from this man. She reached up to trace the tick in his jaw line.

Well, she had his attention now. “Did the women in London bore you to tears?”

“I’m well satisfied with my current arrangement.” His dark hair fell across his brow and dripped

with seawater. She would love to run her fingers through it if she didn’t think he’d jump right out of his

skin. As it was, Blac would fight his attraction for her to the very end, of that she was certain.

She shook her head. “Oh, I don’t think so, Captain Barclay. I nearly melt every time your eyes touch

me.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth. He had a beautiful mouth. Would he kiss her now? She certainly

hoped so.

He started to shake his head but stopped. “You will never make a proper, docile wife like this.”

“But you don’t want a docile wife.” She grinned and placed a warm palm on his naked chest. The

strength under her palm fascinated her. He hissed as if she’d burned him and stepped away from her.

“Bloody hell!”

Perhaps she shouldn’t enjoy this so much but, it was becoming more and more difficult not to smile.

“I don’t want a wife, docile or otherwise,” he said, running a hand through his wet hair.

“No.”A sultry chuckle escaped her as she circled him, and their gazes locked. “You need a man’s

woman. One unafraid of your dark looks and temper. One who will roll about the bed sheets unafraid of

her own sexuality and yours. You could never be satisfied with anything less.”

Unspoken words hung in the air between them.
Blac Barclay needed a woman like her.
She didn’t

need to voice them though. According to his frown, he knew exactly what she implied.

Cannon fire exploded and split the late afternoon air, and a flock of birds burst into the sky. Angel

froze, eyes wide. Her palm on the trunk of the banana tree slid to fall by her side.

Her gaze met Blac’s before he scanned the horizon. She couldn’t move. “Don’t do anything

impulsive,” he warned.

Again, the thundering sound reverberated beneath them and her feet took flight. She darted down the

narrow, tree-lined path, Blac’s shout following in her wake.

Her heart faltered and pounded against her ribs.

Papa!

Horrible images assaulted her and every terrifying scenario she could imagine flickered through her

mind. She couldn’t lose her papa too. After the death of her mother when Angel was four, her father had

become her whole world. He’d doted on his only child and had given her everything. In fact, she could

only remember being punished for her antics once when she’d managed to stow away on Blac’s vessel.

They’d been two days out to sea before Blac had found her hidden amongst the ammunition in the hull.

Her father had been furious at her. She’d never seen his temper before that day and she never

wished to see it again — at least when it was directed at her.

Fear pumped blood through her veins and she increased her pace, soaring over the jagged terrain

like a sea gull. She leapt over a fallen limb and her shirt snagged and tore, captured by the offending

brush. The wind tore through her hair and, despite the cooling breeze, her palms moistened.

Her greatest fear reared its ugly head. She’d always known the risks of being a pirate’s daughter but

she had refused to imagine the consequences. And now, each one of them flashed before her eyes like a

horrible nightmare she could not awaken from.

Smoke billowed in the sky above the trees, and tears scalded her cheeks. Blac yelled from behind

her. She ignored him and streaked through the trees, faster now. Her gaze rose to the smoke and she

tripped, landing with a hard flop to her knees. Pain shot through her limbs, and she grimaced.

She clambered to her feet and took off again. Breaking through the thick foliage of the narrow path,

she stopped. Smoke came from the harbor. Running between the buildings, she raced down the street with

chaos erupting all around her.

Seamen dashed in and out of buildings, some carrying weapons. Loud screeches and screams

echoed throughout the village as the women sought shelter.

Alarmed, Angel searched for a familiar face. Where was her father?

Edging closer to the wall, she flattened her hot palms on the cool brick to ease their shaking.

Her gaze found the familiar ship in the harbor. Flames licked up the tall masts and flickered against

the indigo backdrop of the afternoon sky. The acrid scent of smoke filled the air and replaced the tang of

the sea. Jostled aside by two men, she paused by the sight in the cove.

The beautiful sloop rode tall in the water, and the whitecaps brushed against her rounded hull. The

inferno sent waves of heat into the air and surrounded the ship with a cloak of red.

She spotted the familiar carved mahogany figurehead of the mermaid. Angel’s hands flew to her

mouth in horror. Her heart sank. Someone knocked into her and she stumbled, but couldn’t remove her

eyes from the ship anchored in the cove.

A loud crack followed an eerie screech as the mizzenmast toppled over and hung on the side of the

ship before finally sliding into the waiting arms of the ocean.

Her father’s ship.
The Scavenger
.

Two

The Navy!

The
HMS Serenity
,
HMS Dread
, and last but not least, the
HMS Newport
lurked just outside of the

harbor. Cannon fire exploded, and seconds later the tavern behind Angel splintered into pieces. She

ducked. Shards of wood soared into the air then fluttered to the ground.

Horrified, she smothered a gasp with her hands. The Scavenger creaked as the ruthless grasp of the

ocean enveloped it. Red-coated soldiers landed on the beach below town and spread out, firing at anyone

who resisted arrest. Several of her father’s men took up arms, and the clang of swords ensued while the

women grabbed their children and disappeared into the trees.

A hand clamped over her mouth and dragged her back. “Don’t make a sound,” Blac whispered

harshly against her ear.

He rounded the corner behind the building and lifted her onto his shoulder. Stunned, Angel’s gaze

widened and she gasped, kicking in earnest.

“No! I need to find Papa!” Angel pounded his back with her fists. “Blac, put me down.”

He loped down the path back toward the cove at a quick pace and leapt over a fallen tree. His

shoulder jammed into her stomach and made her gasp. Disgruntled, she mumbled, “Do you want my

breakfast back?”

“Just steer clear of the boots, please.”

Angel rolled her eyes. “You can’t just leave Papa back there to fight alone, Blac.”

“I’m not. But first, I’m going to make sure you’re safe. It’s exactly what Logan would want.”

Angel sighed. She couldn’t argue with that reasoning. But she wasn’t a simpering damsel in distress

either. She was perfectly capable of helping to find her father.

Her hair caught in the brush and yanked at her scalp. Hanging upside down, she peered through the

tangled strands, but dizziness assailed her at the whir of scenery.

“Put me down, Blac. I’m going to be sick.”

His only response was a chuckle.

He deposited her by the beach where his crew worked and ordered his men to restrain her. Angel

scrambled up from the sand, brushing the grit from her rear. She flipped the tangled mass over her

shoulder and glared at him. But he didn’t spare her a glance.

Blac relayed the events taking place on the other side of the island to his first mate. “Mr. Santiago, I

want her safe. If anything happens to her you’ll answer to me.”

The dark-skinned Spaniard with the scarred face nodded. Rigo grasped her arm without being too

forceful and led her away from his captain. He sat Angel down near a copse of trees and settled into a

sprawl. Angel blew a frustrated breath out and crossed her arms over her knees. Her bare toes sank into

the warm sand as she sighed. Why must Blac be so damned stubborn?

“Find Logan’s men,” Blac directed. “As many as you can and get this goddamned rat trap in the

water. I want to set sail sometime before we get arrested!”

BOOK: Wrong Kind of Paradise
3.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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