A Few Good Fantasies (6 page)

Wench Wendy laughed. “Whatever you want.”

Lissa’s brows rose. Where the hell had Janey booked them? Sure, there were plenty of pirate activities here, but it seemed most guests were living out fantasies of a more sensual nature. Not that she was opposed to such a thing. Lissa frowned. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex. How sad was that?

She untucked her cell phone from its slot on the side of her purse and dialed Sam.

“Hello?”

“I’m at Kidd’s Kavern. Where are you?”

“Sorry, boss. I’m stuck in the business office. Fax machine is giving me fits.”

“Fax?”

“The galleys, remember?”

She’d corrected the last of them on the plane to the Bahamas. On the boat ride to this island, she’d given those pages to Sam. She didn’t have to tell him what to do—he just did it. The boy never let the grass grow under his feet.

“
I’m going to take the night off,” she said. “Why don’t you, too? Go find yourself a hottie to dance the night away.”

She blanched. She didn’t really want the idea of Sam’s arms around some hot, young thing galloping through her mind, but there it was, depressingly vivid. Yep. She’d be cute, tan, thin, and she’d giggle adorably.

Blech.

Sam was silent for a long moment. Then he said, “Who are you? And what have you done with my lovable workaholic?”

“Ha. Ha.
Ha.
” Lissa looked at the invitation. Was she nuts? She didn’t know who had sent her this note. Still, she couldn’t give up an opportunity to get chased by a pirate. Jack Sparrow syndrome, all right. She’d just let him capture her then call it a night.

That sounded reasonable. Play a little, harmless game then go back to the suite for room service and 1,000 words on the new manuscript.

“Lissa?”

“Sorry, I zoned out there. Finish wrestling that fax machine into submission and go have some fun. That’s an order.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She hung up, plucked her rose and invite from the bar then laid down a twenty. After waving good-bye to Wendy, she left Kidd’s Kavern and crossed the lobby to the concierge’s desk.

“Yes, mi’lady?” asked the thin man with graying hair. He was dressed in a stylish black suit. It was probably too much to ask a concierge to wear an eyepatch and sword and intersperse conversations with “yarr!”

“When is the Pirate’s Pursuit?”

“Tonight’s game begins at seven p.m.”

Lissa glanced at the paper again. “Do you know what the Treasure Trove is?”

“The shop is located in our mall. You go down the hallway until you reach the staircase. Go up the stairs, through the door is the first floor of our shopping center. It’s the third storefront on the left.”

“Thanks.”

Ten minutes later, Lissa entered the Treasure Trove. The small shop had paneled walls, red carpet, and low lighting. The store was filled with racks and racks of clothes and many shelves of hats, shoes, and accessories.

“’Ello, luv,” said a large woman with brassy red hair and sparkling green eyes. Dressed like a gypsy, in layers of purple and white, her bell-laden belt jangled as she rounded the counter. “What can I do for you?”

“I was invited to the Pirate’s Pursuit.” Lissa’s cheeks heated as she said the words. Oh, for heaven’s sake! Why was she embarrassed about indulging in an innocuous fantasy? She’d consider it research. Yeah.
Research.

“What’s your name, luv?” Her cockney accent was thick.

“Lissa McClaskey.”

Genessa reached into a rack of plastic-covered clothes and plucked out a dress. “Oh-ho. This here’s a good ‘un. Your pirate like his girls lusty.”

Lissa accepted the costume. “What do I owe you?”

“It’s been paid for, miss. All you need to do is wear it. Be sure you put on the colored sash—that’s how your pirate will identify you.”

Well, shiver me timbers.

Chapter 2

LISSA SAT ON the couch in her hotel suite and stared at the costume, which was draped next to her. Now that she’d had time to think about her impulse, she was chickening out.

The last man she’d dated was Ian. That was … God, three years ago. He was a successful architect who was handsome, ambitious, and charming. Everyone had their faults, but Ian’s main flaw had been his obsession with his job.

Lissa understood something about obsession—after all, she was a writer and often immersed herself in the fictional world to the point she eschewed showers, ate cereal for dinner, and lived in the same pair of sweats for a week.

But Ian had needed a woman more interested in him and his career and Lissa had wanted a man who wasn’t a self-absorbed prick.

They’d parted ways. And she hadn’t had a serious relationship since then. Oh, the occasional date, but nothing that had led to hot sex, much less a long-term relationship. In fact, the only man currently in her life was Sam.

Sam was a nice kid. Cute. Really cute. Smart. Funny.
What are you doing, Lissa?
Sam, for all intents and purposes belonged to Janey. He was not a boy-toy. She sighed.

According to Lissa’s mother, compatible was
the
most important relationship quality. Mom had told her numerous times that the first bright passion associated with falling in love faded with time.
You find someone you can like for the rest of your life,
she said.
Sex is nice, honey, but decent conversation and a faithful heart is worth a lot more.

Of course, her mother had been married four times in the hopes of finding a man who didn’t bore her to tears or cheat on her. So far, she hadn’t found him.

Lissa needed to stop thinking that life was like a romance novel. People didn’t fall in love in a day and stay madly in love for the rest of their lives. Passion burned bright and quick before it flickered out.

Well, hell. Lissa stood up and plucked the dress off the couch. Maybe a relationship was too much to hope for, but fun—well, that she could have without worrying about things like compatibility.

L
ISSA WALKED BAREFOOT on the beach dressed as a tavern wench. The knee-length skirt showed off her legs. The red sash cinched her waist; she’d knotted it on the side so that the ends would flow off her hip.

The white shirt puffed at the shoulders, leaving her arms bare. With help from her strapless push-up bra, the low-cut blouse gave new meaning to the word ‘cleavage.’ Bangles clinked on her wrists. On her left ankle she’d put a bell-filled bracelet. She’d taken her time getting ready, soaking in a lavender-scented bath and patting her entire body with a sparkly, scented powder. She kept her make-up light and left her brown hair long and straight.

Rows of bamboo torches offered the only light on the dark beach. Stars glittered like diamonds in the night sky. As Lissa walked toward the water, a warm breeze teased the edge of her skirt and tossed her hair. The low waves licked at her toes and she curled them into the sand, enjoying the sensation of the soft grit tickling her feet.

She scanned the ocean, enjoying its dark, shining beauty. In the distance, she spotted a large row boat headed toward the shore. Loud singing floated toward her:

“Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate’s life for me!”

Her heart turned over in her chest and adrenaline hummed up her spine. The boat hit the shore and men tumbled out of the craft, laughing and singing.

“We come for ye, wenches!” cried one.

The pirates swarmed the beach, brandishing swords and whooping loudly. Women giggled and screamed as they ran every which way.  

One pirate swaggered toward her. He wore a red handkerchief over his hair and a red mask that covered half his face. His teeth bared in a lascivious grin. Wow. His loose shirt offered tantalizing glimpses of muscled flesh. As he passed by a torch, the flickering light revealed a chiseled profile.

“Lissa! I’ll show ye a good time!” he crowed in a gravelly voice.

Her heart tripled its frantic beat. Oh, God. This was him. The pirate who wanted her! She sucked in a steadying breath.
Time to put up or shut up, girl.

His arms opened wide. “Are ye gonna embrace me, ye bonny lass?”

She’d written enough pirate dialogue to know how to respond. “I wouldn’t let a scurvy dog like you anywhere near my goods,” she said saucily, as she tossed her hair over her shoulder.

His eyes flashed with surprise. He paused in the dark space between two torches, so his expression was hidden, but obviously he was calculating the distance between them.

He shot toward her.

Lissa turned and ran. Adrenaline spiked in her belly as he gave chase. She worked-out three days a week; she had the stamina needed to make her pirate work for his bounty. Even so, she didn’t want to run too hard or too long.

She didn’t need to worry. In mere moments, she felt him close behind her. She heard his boots dig into the sand and his breath draw in as he lunged for her. His arms snaked around her waist and he pulled her snug against him.

“Hey!” she yelled, flailing her arms and legs.

He laughed. “Scurvy dog, am I?”

Panic clawed at her even though she knew this was just a game. What had she been thinking? She didn’t know this man. How could she trust him? Was she really going to let a stranger to whisk her away? Was she this desperate to find a human connection, to get a few moments of pleasure?

“Sshh, now, lass. I won’t hurt ye.”

Whoa. Her pirate had sensed her distress. She gulped in air and tried to calm down. Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest.

“This is your game,” the pirate whispered in a normal voice. “You end it whenever you want, just say the word.”

Slowly, the pirate released her. He still held her flush against his body, but her feet sank reassuringly into the sand. He leaned down and whispered, “What’s it to be, lass? Are ye with me? Or do I find a more willing wench?”

Lissa drew in a steadying breath. “You caught me fair and square. I’m yours.”

His low chuckle made her tingle. His fingers drifted up her arms and she shivered. “And I’m yours, lass. Now, I will make off with ye to my secret cave. Ye cannot know the way, so I must blindfold you.”

“Okay.”

A red cloth appeared over her shoulder and her pirate drew it across her throat, over her face, and finally, around the top of her head. She closed her eyes as he tied material.

“Are ye ready?”

She nodded. Delicious tension wound through her. Taken to a pirate’s cave for ravishing!

He scooped her up and she yelped, throwing her arms around his shoulders.

“Snuggle in, lass,” he said. “It’s a bit of a walk.”

Getting toted around like a precious treasure was a new experience, and one that she enjoyed. She did exactly as he asked: She snuggled into his embrace. God, he smelled good. He was all hard muscle and sinewy strength. As he proceeded toward destination unknown, Lissa smiled.

              LISSA’S PIRATED LAID her gently onto a soft surface.

“Where are we?” she asked as she raised her hands to undo the band’s knot.

“You’re safe.” His hands stilled hers. “Leave it for a moment, lass.”

“Okay.” She realized that he was standing in front of her. Her stomach felt as if it were filled with frantic butterflies. She pressed a palm against her belly. “What now?”

“We can talk. Or I can feed you.”

“Feed me?” She licked her lips. “Like that scene in
Nine and Half Weeks
?”

His low, sexy chuckle made her tummy butterflies do the mambo. “Aye. We have strawberries.”

How brave was she? Could she dive fully into the fantasy of being a pirate’s captive? Just for tonight, she could be a saucy wench.

“I’m nervous,” she admitted.

“That’s all right, lass,” said the pirate. “It’s a game. When you want to stop, you say so.”

“Should we at least exchange names?”

“If ye like.”

“I’m Lissa.”

She felt the bed give way as he sat next to her. She could feel him very near, but not quite close enough that he was touching her.              

“Ye can call me Edward.”

“Edward Teach?” she asked, laughing. “I’m in the presence of Blackbeard.”

“I’m more handsome than that rogue,” he scoffed. She felt the light scrape of his fingertips on her arm. “You’re very pretty.”

“Thank you.”

His fingers coasted over her shoulder and grazed her neck. He brushed back her hair, combing his fingers through the strands.

“Ye hair is like silk.” As his fingers sifted her well-brushed tresses, she felt him lean forward. His hot breath ghosted over her neck. “Hmm. Ye smell good, too.”

With each touch, her heart beat faster and her belly squeezed. It had been too long since anyone had made her tingle with anticipation. She found it discombobulating that this stranger could stoke her into the kind of sensual heat that she always wrote about, but rarely experienced.