Love a Sailor

LOVE A
SAILOR

Part
1
of

Love the
Captain

AMANDA
 SANDTON

PUBLISHED BY:

Karibu Publishers

Copyright © 2014

AmandaSandton.com

All rights
reserved.

No part of this
publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic
or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of
this book.

This is a work
of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the
author's imagination or used fictitiously.

The
man waiting in ambush pulls back behind the holly bush at the side of
the nursery school parking lot. He scratches his cheek on the prickles as he
goes, and curses under his breath, his words vaporizing in the wintry air.
Letting go of the bottle of chloroform in his pocket, he wipes a gloved hand
across the wound, and it comes away bloody. He curses again and shifts from
foot to foot to keep the circulation going in his freezing feet. He has been
here in the cold for a while.

The mothers have come, collected their children and gone.
But there is one woman still to arrive. Not a mother this time. This one will
be here any minute to collect her little cousin. He has been following this
young woman for months now, from when she finished university in July. Has all
her routines down pat. Knows that since the beginning of January, her little
cousin stays behind on Tuesdays for half an hour, after school lets out at half
past three.

This is his chance to take back what belongs to him. He
has spent years searching for her, and he is not going to let her get away from
him this time.

Headlights appear at the bottom of the lane, shining
through the murk. This has to be her. The timing is right. He can barely
contain his excitement. Only a few more minutes and she will be his — forever.

The vehicle reaches the lot. A dark green Range Rover —
right car. He cranes his head around the branches as it turns in, wanting to
check that it’s his quarry driving, and not her aunt. The driver parks the car,
switches off the ignition and steps out, clicking on the interior light. A
surge of adrenalin pumps through the watcher’s veins, and his hand tightens on
the bottle in his pocket. It’s her. It’s his Meredith, her jet black hair shining
in the light pooling from the car. Soon he’ll be able to stroke those locks
again, but steady now! Let her fetch the child. Don’t want the school notifying
the police because she hasn’t arrived to collect the brat. Calm down now. He
takes off his warm gloves and tucks them in his jacket, leaving on the
surgicals. He’ll need all his dexterity to unscrew the bottle top and soak the
pad, which he takes out of his other pocket. He’ll do it when she’s almost upon
him.

The girl walks off towards the school, beeping the car
lock on as she leaves. She opens the school doors, illuminating the path for a
minute or two. The man takes a deep breath, and waits for them to close. Now is
his chance to make a move, while she’s inside. He hurries over to the car,
ducks down below roof level and waits. And waits. What could be taking them so
long? His hands are even colder now. He flexes his fingers. The last thing he
needs, after so much careful planning, is to fumble at the crucial moment. Ah,
at last, the doors open again and out she comes, with the brat in tow.

He pours the liquid onto the pad, rests the pad on the
fender to put the bottle back in his pocket. Only ten yards now. She beeps the
car open. He picks up the pad and holds it ready.

The girl lets go of the child to open the door. It’s open.
Now! He lurches round the car, grabs hold of her left arm, and wrenches it up
behind her back in a half nelson as he slams her body against the car.

She screams out, “Run Sukey, run! Back to school!” and
rams her right elbow into his belly, causing him to double up and drop his
right arm, but he maintains his hold on her left.

Now that she’s released the pressure of his body on hers,
she swings round inside his grip and tries to gouge him in the face with the
car keys, but he recovers and wallops her back against the car with his greater
weight. He brings up his right arm again, thinking the fight has left her, but
she stamps down hard on his right foot.

He wrenches her arm up even higher in retaliation and she
whimpers with pain. Almost there. Quick. All it needs is a slap of the pad
against her face. He casts a hasty glance around for the brat but she’s no
threat. She’s long gone.

A distant flashlight picks them up, and a thin but authoritative
voice calls out, “Stop! What’s going on here?”

He halts, the pad inches away from the girl’s face. If she
hadn’t been snatching her head from side to side, he would have made it by now.

The intruder is nearer now and, holding the beam full in
the attacker’s face, shouts, “Let her go! I have my finger on fast dial for the
police.”

He breaks away, pushing the girl off balance as he
releases his grasp on her arm, and runs off across the lot in the dark. The
girl totters and falls against the car, her breath coming in great heaves.

Her savior puts the flashlight and the cell phone on the
roof, and takes hold of her, wrapping her up in her arms as she struggles to
get her breath back. “Are you all right, Meredith?” she asks.

Meredith nods. “Where’s Sukey? He hasn’t got Sukey, has
he?”

“She’s safe, crouching down over there by the gate. Seeing
her there like that, as I came into the lot, warned me something was going on.
I told her to stay there.”

Meredith detaches herself from the teacher. “I must get
her. She’ll be scared out of her wits.” She gives herself a shake and strides
off towards the gate.

The teacher picks up the flashlight and the cell phone,
and follows to light the way. “I should call the police now. I know he’s got
away, but you should report the attempt anyway.”

Meredith stops and places her hand on the teacher’s arm.
“Please don’t call the police. The man is long gone now, and I’m so shaken up I
just want to get Sukey and go home. I can’t cope with hours at the station
while they take statements.”

“All right, if you’re sure—”

“I’m sure.”

When Sukey sees the light approaching, she races towards them
as fast as her three-year old legs can carry her.

Meredith bends down to catch the sobbing child up into her
arms. She hugs her as hard as she can. “There, there, darling. I’m safe and the
nasty man has gone.”

“Merry, I was so frightened.”

“I know, darling, but we can go home now.”

Meredith turns to the teacher. “Light me back to my car
and we’ll get in and lock the doors. We’ll wait for you to close up the school
and come back for your car before we leave, just in case he’s still hanging
around. It’s lucky you came and disturbed him. What did you want me for, by the
way?”

“Oh, nothing much. Sukey left her hair slides behind.
Here,” she said, taking them out of her pocket and giving them to Sukey. “I
thought they might be special.”

Sukey accepts them with a shy smile and hides her face
against Meredith’s chest.

They go their separate ways. The teacher is back within
five minutes and as soon as she is locked in her car, Meredith drives home,
anxious to put the incident behind her, but she can’t. She will have to tell
her Aunt Clara all about it when she gets home.

*

Clara has phoned to say she is working late. Meredith
gives Sukey her supper and puts her to bed with a bedtime story. Tonight a
story is not enough. Sukey is still in shock and won’t let Meredith leave.
Meredith lies alongside Sukey, waiting for her to fall asleep. She replays the
afternoon’s events over and over again. How frighteningly easy it was for
Kempton to waylay her. Here in Oxford, England, on the other side of the
Atlantic from Vermont. How has he tracked her down? Will she ever be free of
him? Will her nightmares start up again? Round and round go her thoughts while
she waits for Clara to come home. Clara, who has been her rock.

At last she hears the key in the lock. She glances down at
Sukey. The child is fast asleep, her fingers in her mouth and her arm cuddled
round Bunnylugs.

Meredith runs down the stairs and throws herself at her
aunt even before she has taken off her coat.

“Whoa, Merry! Give me a moment here.”

Meredith steps back, her chest heaving, and clasps her
hands under her armpits, holding herself tightly. At last she can show her fear
and anxiety. She can’t wait to share it with her aunt. “Clara, Kempton was
here. He’s found us.”

“What?” gasps Clara. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Clara puts her arm round Meredith and shepherds her into
the kitchen. “Sit. I’ll make you some tea while you tell me all about it.”

Meredith takes a chair and watches her aunt go about the
reassuring domestic task of making a pot of tea.

“Where do you think you saw him?”

Meredith draws in her breath and lets it out with a sigh.
“Clara, there’s no think about it. He was there, waiting for me at the nursery
school.” She taps her fingers on the table. “Clara, he tried to abduct me.”

Clara spins round from the kitchen counter, clutching her
hand to her throat and dropping the sugar bowl on the floor, but neither of
them notices the mess.

“And Sukey? What about Sukey?” asks Clara, her voice tight
and high.

“He wasn’t interested in her, just me”

“Well, he doesn’t know everything then, does he? That’s
something to be grateful for. How did you get away?”

Meredith tells her aunt all that happened.

Clara brings the tea things over to the table, together
with a bag of sugar from the cupboard, and sits down opposite Meredith. She
pours the tea while she thinks.

She drinks her tea and puts her cup down. She looks across
at Meredith. “We aren’t safe here any more. Next time he might succeed, and we
can’t risk telling the police about him. It might backfire on us. We have to
get away at once. Then I can try and have something done about him.”

“But where can we go? And what about your job? And Sukey’s
school?”

“One question at a time, Merry. It won’t hurt Sukey to
miss a few months of nursery school; she’s only three. I can apply for leave. I
have several months accumulated. This winter’s been dragging on, and you
haven’t had a treat for doing so well in your exams. So, all combined — I’m
going to book us on a long sea cruise. I shall do it in such a way that Kempton
will not be able to find out. Even if he does, he won’t be able to reach us if
we’re at sea. That will give us a breathing space while I work out what to do
about him.”

“Do you really think we could? I have to admit I’m
terrified of staying here like a sitting duck waiting for his next move. I got
away with it this time because he didn’t expect me to fight back. He thought I
would be his little victim and I wasn’t. Next time he will be prepared for that,
and I might not be so lucky.”

“That’s settled then. Tomorrow I’ll make reservations on
the first available long cruise.”

“Can we possibly afford to take Kate? I’d like to have
someone of my own age along with us. Although I’m sitting here making plans
with you, I still feel vulnerable.”

Clara reaches her hand across the table and takes Merry’s.
“Off course we can, darling. You know money is no object, especially when your
happiness is at stake. Sort it out with her tomorrow and let me know. All
right?”

Meredith

We’re
a day out of Southampton, sailing south on
MV Albion
, flagship of
the Maynard Cruise Line. Heavy seas have been pitching and rolling the ship
since first gray light. The Bay of Biscay is showing off its winter spite,
throwing everything it has at man’s puny attempts to tame the ocean. The state
of the art stabilizers are no match for Neptune’s fury, and the public rooms on
board are deserted. I’m sitting alone curled up in a comfortable armchair in
the library, reading a romance about a hot and gorgeous hunk of a hero, when the
door opens and a husky baritone calls out, “Well now, what have we here?”

I pull myself away from my story and look up. He’s
standing there, just inside the door — my hero — resplendent in well-tailored
navy suit, gold rings running up to his elbows and a sexy crooked smile on his
face. Think romantic hero and you’ve got him. Six foot plus, jet black hair,
cleft chin and smoke-ringed eyes of Celtic blue.

Dropping my feet to the floor, I return a wary smile. He
moves towards me with the lithe strength and grace of a tiger, and pulls out a
chair, saying, “Mind if I join you for a moment? You seem to be the only other
person alive on this ship today.”

Dumbstruck that this powerful being should want to pass
the time of day with me, I merely nod in a young and foolish way.

“It’s all right. I’m not going to reprimand you for
putting your feet on the chair. I do that myself when no one’s looking. I’m the
captain of this old tub, by the way — Captain Raphael Maynard — carrying out my
daily inspection. And who might you be, young lady?”

I spring to my feet and hold out my hand, feeling like a
naughty pupil caught out by the headmaster. “I’m Meredith Roxley, Sir.”

“Please don’t ‘Sir’ me, Meredith,” he says, standing up
again to shake my hand. “Captain or Raphe will do.”

I look up as our palms touch, and know the instant his
eyes meet mine that this man is going to be important in my life. How or why, I
don’t yet know.

“Sit please, Meredith,” he says, but my legs are shaking
so hard I have already fallen back into my seat.

“Is that what your school friends call you? Meredith?” he
asks, as he sits down again and leans forward arms on the table, searching my
face.

I try to answer. I don’t want to come across as a stupid
raw kid. I’m eighteen for heaven’s sake. But my upper lip won’t keep still.

He chuckles at my distress. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve
intimidated you with all this gold braid, haven’t I? Shall I order us some
coffee, or perhaps you would prefer tea?”

I manage to squeak, “Tea please.”

He rises, walks to the door and presses the service bell.

By the time he returns I have succeeded in controlling my
ridiculous reaction to him and my lip is behaving itself again.

“Better?” he asks, smiling down at me, and giving me a pat
on the shoulder before he takes his seat again.

“You must think I’m silly—” I begin.

“No, not silly, just young.”

“I’m not that young. I’m eighteen. I left school last
July. And my
old
school friends call me Merry.”

“Of course. I was only teasing, Merry. You wouldn’t be on
a cruise liner in January if you were still at school, would you now?”

I smile my assent, but say nothing.

“Anyway, I’m not that ancient myself, you know. Just had
my thirtieth birthday. How do you like my ship so far?”

“It’s beautiful but …” I cast my eyes down and dry up.

“But? Go on. You can say anything. I shan’t hold it
against you.”

I look up to see if he’s patronizing my youth, but he
isn’t. He slides his chair closer to the table and raises his eyebrows, waiting
for my answer. I decide I can tell him the truth.

“Well, it is magnificent, but I find the d
é
cor a little too lush, somewhat overblown.” I
sweep my arm round, pointing out the heavy velvet drapes with their golden
tassels and the over-stuffed brocaded Louis XV armchairs. “And all the marble
and the gold chandeliers in the atrium.”

He grins. “You mean it’s a bit fuddy-duddy and old
fashioned?”

“Well, yes.”

He leans back in his chair, resting his elbows on the
armrests and steepling his fingers while he looks across at me from under
half-lowered eyelids. The silence hangs for a second or two. Have I been too
frank?

He breaks into a chuckle. “I guess I have to agree with
you, though our PR people would shoot me if they heard me say so. Most of our
passengers expect a cross between the palace of Versailles and the London Ritz.
They’re in the over-fifty age bracket, people with both money and leisure. They
want the fantasy of opulence, and so that’s what we give them. You’ll see when
they all come creeping out of their cabins after this rough spell.”

It doesn’t sound promising. Eleven weeks in the company of
people old enough to be my grandparents. “Aren’t there any other young people
on the boat?” I ask. “Besides me and my best friend, Kate?”

“You’re traveling with a friend?”

I nod. “From school. She’s seasick, too. Poor thing. I never
get seasick but I do get terribly car sick.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your friend. Don’t despair about
the old folk. I seem to remember that there are a few young people on board. We
have a special evening for singles to meet each other at the start of every
voyage. It’s usually on the second night out. Maybe everyone will be recovered
by then and you’ll discover a Prince Charming.”

I straighten up in my chair and challenge. “Who says I’m
looking for a Prince Charming?”

He laughs and leans across the table to pick up my
discarded novel. He turns the cover towards me to illustrate his point.
“Perhaps not Prince Charming — too much brocade and lace for you. Judging by
this book, you’re looking for a more dangerous and sexy alpha male with toned
abs like these — to make you do his bidding?”

I feel the curse of the fair-skinned overtake me. My
cheeks grow hot as the blush deepens. No one likes to have their secret
pleasures discovered. Yes, I have finished school with a flurry of distinctions,
and have won a place at Oxford for the coming September, but I still love to
read steamy romances about strong hot guys. After all, I’m safe as long as they’re
imprisoned between the pages. Even so, I’m making a silent vow to use only my
e-reader from now on and so preserve my reading privacy, when the door opens
and the steward comes in with the tray.

The Captain, I don’t feel I know him well enough to call
him Raphe despite his friendly invitation, lays my book down on a spare chair
to clear a space for the tray.

The steward puts it down. “Here you are, Cap’n. I’ve
brought you some cream cakes as well. Thought the young lady might fancy them.”

The Captain cocks his head at me in inquiry. I smile at
the steward and say, “Thank you. That was thoughtful.”

The steward returns my smile, turns and leaves the two of
us alone again together. We sit there with the pots steaming between us,
looking each other in the eye, summing up what we see, and not only on a
physical level. He has already run his glance over my long black hair and my
skinny frame. Now his blue eyes gaze into mine of brown. A sudden connection
sparks between us. It surprises him as much as it does me. He breaks the
contact, sliding back in his chair in confusion. He looks round the room for a
few seconds and then returns his look to my face. He is three feet away, but
his soft scanning of my features caresses my skin like warm silk.

The intimacy of the moment is too much for me, and I break
in, “Shall I pour your coffee?”

“Please,” he says, recovering himself. “I didn’t mean to
stare. I’ll take it black to wake myself up. Don’t know what’s got into me this
morning.”

While we drink the tea and coffee, and eat our cakes, the
Captain tells me a little about the Maynard line and about his ship in
particular. He explains that he was given his own ship at such a relatively
young age because his family are majority shareholders in the company.

“I have the necessary experience, and family clout made
sure that I got my ship sooner rather than later. My twin brother, Mike, is
captain of our sister ship, the
MV Scotia
. She sails to the Caribbean.
Do you have any sisters or brothers?”

I tell him I’m an only child. “But I do have a cousin,
Sukey. She’s on board with my Aunt Clara, my friend Kate and me. I suppose
she’s like a little sister because she’s three to my eighteen, and I help Clara
look after her.”

“Is she seasick, too?”

“No,” I laugh. “She’s a tough little thing. She’s in the Playroom.
She was thrilled to discover all the toys, and meet all the other little kids
this morning.”

I take the last bite of my delicious cream cake. I’m going
to enjoy the catering on board if this cake is anything to go by.

As I lean down to get a Kleenex out of my bag, the Captain
stretches across towards me and wipes his finger across my chin. I jerk upright
at the effrontery of his touch.

“Whoa there!” he says, snatching his hand back. “I was
only trapping a smudge of cream.”

I use my tissue to finish the job he has begun and toss my
hair back. “I’m not a child, Captain Maynard. Please don’t treat me like one.”

I have reacted instinctively against being touched by a
stranger. Over-reacted as usual, but it’s too late to take it back. He folds
his arms across his chest and a look of bewilderment creeps over his face. I
hold my breath. Will he take umbrage and leave? Although he startled me, I
don’t really want him to go.

Someone has to break the silence. I stretch my hand out
towards him across the table and say, “I’m sorry, Captain. You made me jump. I
know you meant the gesture kindly.”

The tension in his posture dissolves, and a brief smile
crosses his face. “You had me going there, Merry. I thought I had upset you.”

He reaches out to enfold my hand in his. He gives it a
manly squeeze of reassurance before standing up to say, “I have to get back to
my rounds. It was good meeting you. I hope you enjoy the rest of the voyage on
my ship.”

“Goodbye, Captain. I have to leave myself. I promised
Sukey I would take her for a walk around the deck before the children’s lunch.”

He smiles down at me and to my amazement leans forward and
touches my chin again, his finger gently caressing my dimple. “You see, we have
something in common, Meredith Roxley.”

And with that he strides towards the door. I watch him
leave with regret, wondering if our paths will ever cross again on this ship of
over 4,000 souls.

He pushes the door open and is about to step through when
he stops and turns back towards me. “How would you like to have dinner at my
table tonight, Merry? At the Captain’s Table? With so many VIP’s lying prostrate
in their cabins, I shall probably have my table to myself, and we could talk.
Would you like that?”

My stomach gives a sharp twitch. He must like me after
all, but his offer has taken me by surprise. I don’t know how to answer. Of
course, I would love to have dinner with him. What girl wouldn’t? But at the
Captain’s Table? What would I say? Will I be able to hold up my end of the
conversation? What could I wear? What will everyone think? Would Clara allow
it?

Seeing my hesitation, he adds, “I could spend a few
minutes this afternoon checking out the passenger list, doing some detective
work on your behalf, to find out if there are any young people of your age on
board. Then I could brief you at dinner. What do you think? Would you like
that?”

I look down to hide my thoughts. Of course I would like
that, but still I waver. It sounds old-fashioned but I’m not sure of his
intentions … or of mine. I don’t want to lead him on if he has a shipboard
dalliance in mind. With my history, I’m not dalliance material. I’m torn. I
find him attractive and fascinating, but his aura of powerful masculinity
frightens me. Even so, I remember what Kate always says to me: “You have to
learn to give people a chance. Not all men are wicked. Don’t let your Aunt
Clara’s over-protectiveness spoil your life for you now. We shan’t be young
forever.”

Oh, what the heck!

“Meredith?” he calls out. “Will you be my guest, or not? I
need to warn the ma
î
tre d’ to expect you
at my table.”

Gather ye rosebuds, carpe diem, live for the moment, seize
opportunities with both hands — all these trite but true sayings zoom round my
mind. He won’t issue a second invitation, I’m sure. I make my decision.

“Captain, I accept with pleasure,” I say, smiling across
the library at him. After all, I can always duck out at the last minute. And
Clara may not let me go on my own.

He winks at me. “See you tonight then. 9 p.m.” The doors
swing to and fro, and he’s gone.

The room sighs around me at the vacuum caused by the
absence of his dominant personality. I settle down to read another chapter
before making good my promise to Sukey, but my paper hero is a poor substitute
for the Captain and I soon give up. As I gather my things together, I can’t
help my teenage mind from wondering if the Captain would look as good stripped
off as the guy on the cover. I suspect he would.