Stranded With The Captain. Sharon Hartley

be the captain’s private stash.

      “Were you worried during the sail?” he asked.

      “I was terrified,” she admitted. “But strangely loved every minute of it. Well, almost. Not so much when you pointed out that shark following us.”

      Javi laughed. “He thought we were his mother.”

      “All I could think about was Jaws.”

      “You did great, Irish. You’re good crew, and I appreciate your help.”

      “Thanks,” she said, hoping the flush she felt in her face didn’t show but knowing it did. Great. Now that the adventure was over, she didn’t know how to act around the captain.

      He moved to sit beside her, bringing the wine bottle with him to fill her empty glass.

      “This is delicious,” she said after a healthy gulp, unable to think of anything better. Just keep drinking, Cat.

      Javi murmured agreement and settled into the seat against her. “I’m surprised there isn’t at least one other boat here.”

      “Isn’t it off season?”

      “True, but there’s a legend pirates buried treasure in this cove.”

      She glanced toward land and took another swallow. “Is there any truth to that story?”

      Javi shrugged. “I doubt it, but a lot of cruisers like to anchor here so they can search.”

      “Don’t tell Debbie. She’ll want to buy a shovel.”

      “You’re very different from your friend Debbie.”

      “She’s been through a lot lately,” Cat said.

      “How long have you known her?”

      “We met as freshman at the University of Florida.”

      “And now she’s been through a divorce.” Javi nodded. “That changes a person.”

      Cat took another swallow of champagne for courage. “Is that comment from firsthand experience?”

      “I’ve never been married, if that’s what you’re asking. How about you?”

      * * *

      WAITING FOR IRISH to answer, Javi knew he was treading in dangerous waters. What am I doing? He shouldn’t be waiting for the sunset alone in the cockpit with a gorgeous charterer, sipping champagne and asking about her marital status. He should go below and sleep.

      “Nope,” she said, confirming his assumption. “Never married.”

      “Boyfriend back in Miami?”

      “No. My orchid nursery keeps me too busy.”

      “You raise orchids for a living?”

      “A family business, started by my parents. I can tell that surprises you.”

      “It’s an unusual profession.” Javi poured more champagne into her flute. “I figured you for a flight attendant.”

      “Flight attendant?” She flushed again, and he was charmed. “Why?”

      “Beautiful woman.” He raised his wine to her. “Beautiful smile.”

      “Thank you,” she said, staring at her feet.

      “Do I make you nervous, Irish?” Javi asked, making his voice soft.

      She glanced up to meet his gaze, started to say something, but shrugged. “Definitely.”

      Smiling at her honesty, he asked, “Why?”

      She raised her glass in a toast similar to his. “Beautiful man. Dangerous smile.”

      He laughed. “Dangerous?”

      “You remind me of a pirate.”

      “Do I, now?”

      “Maybe it’s the earring,” she said.

      He fingered his earlobe. “I had it pierced in Bali when I was eight.”

      “Did you sail there?”

      He nodded. “With my parents. You don’t like piercings?”

      “I didn’t say that,” she said.

      “Good.”

      He ran a knuckle down her cheek, and her eyes widened. Her skin was as soft as it appeared.

      “Or maybe it’s your beard,” she murmured, not objecting to his touch.

      “My beard?”

      “That makes me think of you as a pirate.”

      “But pirates are marauding criminals,” he said, continuing to stroke her cheek, fascinated by the stark desire in her glittering gaze. He’d known from their first meeting that she was attracted to him. She’d tried to hide it, but he could tell.

      Champagne and fatigue made it easy to ignore the voice in his brain that cautioned him to back off. But even a saint would find it hard to resist a woman as sexy as Irish.

      “I can easily see you doing some marauding,” she said.

      “No way,” he said. “Believe me, I’m a law-abiding man.”

      Leaning closer, his gaze tracked to her lips. She’d welcome a kiss, and he wanted to know how that gorgeous mouth would taste. Getting Irish into his bunk would be easy, although a disastrous move. The image of this siren naked and willing beneath him threatened his fragile grip on common sense. Talk about too much damned bubbly.

      “So you’re a man who always sticks to the rules,” she whispered, her breath soft and warm on his chin.

      Not always. He captured her mouth with his, and she made a surprised noise in the back of her throat. Her lips tasted of the excellent champagne he’d been saving for a special occasion, which he’d assumed would be when he returned to duty.

      She returned his kiss, shifting closer. Encouraged, he deepened their connection. She placed her hand on his shoulder, severing his last shred of control.

      He pulled back and smiled into her dazed expression.

      “Let’s go below,” he said, cupping her face with his palm.

      “Okay,” she murmured, her voice a sweet sigh.

      He rose and took her hand. Her fingers closed around his, and she came to her feet. Back off, Javi. Back off before it’s too late.

      Halfway down the stairs, another noise drowned out the warning bell clanging inside his head.

      Someone in the head losing their lunch.