“I don’t trust either of us near that bed, Mia.”

Seth placed his hand on Mia’s knee, the heat of his palm penetrating her skin. “But I have something else in mind.”

She wondered if it was possible to melt at a man’s touch. If so, she stood a very good chance of pooling at Seth’s feet any moment, because his hand on her knee made her whole body turn warm and liquid. He walked his fingers up the outside of her thigh until his hand landed on her hip. Then he scooted her close to him and angled his lips over hers.

The man planned to drug her with his aphrodisiac kisses and then coax her into orgasmic heaven. All of which sounded delightful, except…

“That’s not fair to you.” She broke off their kiss, much to her lips’ regret.

“It’s perfectly fair,” he whispered, leaning forward to reclaim her mouth.

Mia needed to take action before he had her talked into becoming erotically dependent on him. She slid her fingers down his chest to the waistband of his shorts, smoothing her hand over the ridge there.

“I bet I send you into orbit without ever hitting the sheets.”

Dear Reader,

As much as I love sizzling contemporary romance, there is also a place in my heart for a hot historical, too. Imagine my pleasure when I discovered a way to rope these two loves together in the opening pages of Wild and Willing. Tampa, Florida’s Gasparilla festival allowed me to write a modern-day pirate sailing into harbor, ready to carry off the damsel of his choice.

Of course, this being a Blaze novel, the heroine had to be every bit as bold and brash as her pirate hero. In steps Mia Quentin, modern maiden on a mission! She’s not only ready and willing to indulge in a sexy kidnapping scenario with Seth Chandler, she’s out to make sure he can’t possibly choose anyone but her for potential ravishing.

If you enjoy Seth and Mia’s steamy Florida adventures, don’t miss my 2003 Blaze title, Wild and Wicked, which revisits Gasparilla and all the fun that ensues. Seth’s brother Jesse has his own story to tell—a tale that involves a lusty lady pirate determined to make Jesse see the sensual potential in their friendship! Visit me at www.JoanneRock.com to learn more about my future releases or to let me know what you think of my books. I’d love to hear from you!

Happy reading,

Joanne Rock

P.S.—Don’t forget to check out www.tryblaze.com!

Wild and Willing
Joanne Rock

To Linda Watson, the sister I have forever looked up to for

great advice, a grounded perspective and much-needed

laughter. Thank you for providing a Florida consultation hotline

as I penned this book!

And to Wanda Ottewell, my talented editor,

whose vision and guidance have strengthened my writing

and made my work all the more rewarding.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Epilogue

1

SETH CHANDLER flipped up his eye patch and leaned against the ship mast of the Jose Gaspar to study the throng of milling pirates aboard the main deck. He could think of a thousand places he would rather yo-ho-ho with a bottle of rum today.

His empty office full of paperwork topped the list.

There had to be seventy-five guys and a couple of women in swashbuckling gear sailing into Tampa Bay with him, yet Seth hadn’t been able to pawn off today’s mission on any of them. Not with his company’s name on the line as corporate sponsor of this event.

Damn that lead buccaneer for quitting only two hours before Tampa’s annual Gasparilla festival. Now Seth had no choice but to step in and assume the eye patch himself. He’d spent too many years building his company’s reputation to have it compromised by any screwups with this very public assignment.

Someone had to abduct a wench.

Actually, several festivalgoers would be carried off by the marauding raiders, but the lead pirate at the front of the boat would no doubt be captured on film for the six o’clock news. When the actor hired to play the role had quit, Seth hadn’t wanted to hand over the part to just anyone. What if his last-minute fill-in copped a feel in full view of the media? Or what if the stand-in dropped the person he was supposed to be carrying?

Lawsuit alert!

Without résumés and references in front of him, Seth wouldn’t risk it. He’d strapped on a dagger, stripped out of his shirt, kicked off his Italian loafers and vaulted barefoot aboard the Jose Gaspar at the last minute.

Now, as the ship sailed at the head of a flotilla around Harbour Island toward thousands of waiting festival attendees on shore, Seth wished he hadn’t been born so damn responsible. He didn’t want to spend his Saturday leering at giggling maidens as part of the festival’s entertainment.

Seth scanned the crowds lining the docking area in front of the convention center, searching for appropriate candidates for mock abduction. He dismissed the hordes of tourists braving the mild February weather in string bikinis. The last thing he needed was some racy media photo of himself with a beach babe thrown over his shoulder. He was definitely going for a local—a woman with enough clothes on to ensure he wouldn’t look like a sleaze-ball for touching too much bare skin.

Bad enough he was half-naked. He didn’t need the added trouble—or temptation—of a scantily clad woman in his arms.

All he had to do was find a safe woman, maybe a grandmotherly type, who would enjoy the adventure and generate great P.R. for Chandler Enterprises. He’d carry her off to the boat his brother had waiting for him, then treat her to dinner for her trouble. He could bring her back to the city later tonight.

Simple.

Piece of cake, in fact, for a man who managed international mergers, could read financial newspapers in a dozen languages and had compiled enough venture capital to support himself and a small army for the rest of their lives.

He slapped his eye patch back down over his brow and clamped his teeth around a blunt dagger as the ship moved into position in front of the partiers on shore.

How much trouble could abducting a wench possibly be?

MIA QUENTIN elbowed her way to the front of the string bikini crowd, hoping to catch a peek at the incoming ship full of pirates, her last chance for adventure. Determined to put herself in the path of the first marauding invader she spied, Mia simmered with restless energy and uncharacteristic daring.

Damned if she didn’t feel downright dangerous.

She tucked a red hibiscus behind her ear and draped long brown hair over her shoulder. She just hoped one of those pirates appreciated a more artistic approach to fashion than a bikini made of dental floss. Mia happened to think her long floral sarong and black silk halter-top were much more evocative than the blatant message sent by miles of naked legs.

Then again, her knowledge of seduction was about as limited as the other women’s scanty outfits. She’d been avoiding adventure—and men—for the past three years. Somehow she’d ended up practically celibate in an effort to assure her grandparents she wasn’t following in the footsteps of her reckless mother—a woman who’d missed most of Mia’s childhood in favor of chasing any surfer skimming past her beach lounger.

But Mia wasn’t in her Twin Palms hometown now. She’d carved out a whole week to play in Tampa before she had to get down to business—wheedling a few months’ extension from the bank on a mortgage note for the family tourist shop.

For now, Mia had promised herself she would stop living for her family and start living more for herself.

She’d realized in recent months that she’d slowly retreated from the world because she didn’t ever want to upset the grandparents she adored. This notion slammed home with a vengeance last week when a vendor had brought some sample wares to the tourist shop. As Mia inverted a cheesy, water-filled pen that made a cartoon guy’s pants fall down, it occurred to her that that was as close as she’d come to a titillating experience in too many years.

So this week, she planned to prove to herself she still knew how to have fun, to be adventurous. Once she secured the mortgage extension on the tourist shop, she’d be working double time to make sure the business could really pay it off. So if ever there’d been a time to have fun, the time was now, before she disappeared into a world of work and family obligations again.

And if an opportunity arose this week to see a real man naked, she certainly wouldn’t be averse to peeking.

Mia lifted a small pair of opera glasses to her eyes in order to better drool over the wealth of muscle-bound men aboard the incoming ship. But before she could focus on the testosterone-laden Jose Gaspar, a scratchy voice beside her interrupted.

“You don’t stand a chance in that getup, honey.” The speaker was a woman at least seventy years old with white hair cut short in a sleek, sophisticated style. She wore a long green beach robe belted at her waist, which she slowly unfastened. “You’ve got to show a little leg.”

On cue, the older woman’s terry cloth cover-up fell open, revealing legs that would give Mia’s a run for the money. Mia hoped she looked that good in fifty years. On the other hand, she hoped she could hold her own against grandma today.

Because Mia had her heart set on a sexy abduction scenario with a pirate.

“You’re sure to turn a few heads,” Mia admitted. “But I don’t think my outfit lends itself to—”

The older woman squinted down at Mia’s wrap skirt. “Let me see.” She bent closer, ignoring any polite sense of personal boundaries to adjust the knot at Mia’s waist. “All you need to do is twist this here and turn this—” She tugged and pulled until, “Voila!”

Mia stared down at the new slit in her sarong and the long expanse of tanned leg it showcased.

The older woman winked, her open robe twirling loosely around her legs as she moved. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it, honey.”

Mia wasn’t convinced what she had was entirely flauntable, but she had to admit, the woman’s fashion sense had flair. The sarong had a sexy edge with the newly arranged slit. Now the warm February breeze tickled her skin as it blew the gauzy fabric around her thighs.

And it was still more mysterious than a dental floss swimsuit.

“Thanks.” Mia smiled up at the woman, but the granny fairy godmother was already edging her way closer to the docking area where the boat would anchor.

Not to be outdone, Mia hustled into the slight opening in the crowd in the woman’s wake. It was every maiden for herself when it came to nabbing a pirate.

She needed this adventure today. She’d been suppressing her own dreams the past few years while she peddled seashell necklaces and driftwood picture frames. This might be her last chance for a little excitement before she returned to the watchful eyes of her small-town beachside home.

She’d spent her life always doing the right thing, but not today. In order to get what she wanted, Mia was prepared to be bold and brazen.

And she wasn’t going to let any kindly grandmothers or overzealous beach bunnies stand in her way.

“SEE ANYTHING you like, matey?”

The pirate standing next to Seth gestured to the massive mob of women on the shore, his question thick with a swashbuckling accent. Patrick O’Keefe led the Gasparilla Krewe on the boat. A retired Tampa business professional, Pat could afford to put all his time into the festival.

Seth tried to work up the enthusiasm for a hearty “Aye” in return, but only managed a rather flat, “Yeah. I’ve already got the right woman picked out.”

Pat slapped him on the back and off he went to quiz the handful of other people who were on abduction missions today.

A cry went up from the festivalgoers as the boat bumped into the docking area in front of Tampa’s convention center. Television cameras moved in closer to film the new arrivals, shuffling the crowd as they dragged their equipment around for a better view.

Seth kept his eye trained on his wench of choice—a woman old enough to be his grandmother in an old-fashioned green swimsuit and matching long beach robe.

It was simple enough to keep track of the white-haired lady. Not only did her bright green robe set her apart from the hordes of half-dressed sunseekers, but she was being relentlessly pursued by a lithe brunette dressed in a silky skirt with an oversize red flower tucked behind her ear.

A gorgeous, lithe brunette.

With great legs.

Seth squinted against the glare of a too-bright sun to get a better look. Not that he had any intention of carrying off an exotic, showy woman who could have just stepped out of a local theater production of Carmen. She was too conspicuous, too racy, too sexy.

But damn, she was hot.

Long brown hair fell to the middle of her back—a bare back that he could half see from his raised position on the boat. Her features suggested Italian-American heritage. Maybe Hispanic-American. Something Latin looking.

Her skirt was sort of filmy and Seth guessed he’d be able to see through it if she stood in front of a bright light. Every now and then as she darted through the mob of festivalgoers, Seth caught a view of lean, tanned thigh between the folds of gauzy material.

“Land ho, me boy,” Patrick O’Keefe shouted, gesturing toward the docking area. “I need you to lead the charge off the boat.”

Show time. Seth searched for some enthusiasm for his task, half considering revamping the abduction strategy so he could make off with Carmen instead of her grandmother. He definitely wouldn’t mind an up close and personal perusal of those legs of hers.

And it had been at least…four months?…since his most recent relationship flopped. Margo had marched out the door citing the usual laundry list of his shortcomings—obsessive commitment to his work, single-minded pursuit of success, inability to form a true partnership, etc. No wonder a set of great legs distracted him today.

He closed his eyes in an effort to scavenge some last-minute focus. The only thing that mattered right now was that the Gasparilla event ran smoothly so it would reflect well on its sponsor, Gulf Coast Bank, one of many branches of Chandler Enterprises. Seth would wait until later to worry about the fact that he’d been without female companionship for too long.

Right now, he was grabbing grandma for good P.R. value and making a clean getaway in his waiting boat.

Patrick threw a rope to the men on shore so the Jose Gaspar could be tied off. “Don’t forget to return yer lady of choice to the reviewing stand by 11:00 p.m. tonight,” he reminded Seth. “The local networks are giving us a slot on the late news, and we want all the pirate captives available to talk about their day.”

Eleven? That was still six hours away, even with the festival getting off to a late start this year due to a thunderstorm.

“Don’t worry,” Seth shot back, trying—and failing—to keep his eyes from straying to Carmen. “I’ll have her here in plenty of time.”

Patrick frowned. “The point is to show the lady a good time.” The old man waggled bushy eyebrows. “If you bring her back too early, we’ll think you didn’t do your pirately duty by her.”

Seth nodded, unconcerned. He had a vested interest in making sure his captive waxed enthusiastic about her day for the cameras. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

A buzz of excitement passed through the festival attendees as the final knots were tied to secure the Jose Gaspar. Seth shifted his position onboard to put him closest to his maiden of choice. And the siren alongside her.

He didn’t wait for the lowering of the gangplank. Pirates seldom did, right?

Fully committed to the role he’d taken on, Seth vaulted off the low boat and into the waiting crowd a few feet below. The excited buzz swelled into a roar of approval from the bustling throng. Other pirates swung out over the crowd, the invasion well underway.

He landed farther from his target than he’d intended, but that didn’t stop him from going after the woman he wanted. A Nordic-looking blonde planted herself in his path, and shot him a sleepy-lidded invitation steamy enough to sizzle the shorts off a man.

She was impressive, but she didn’t come close to Carmen. Seth set her aside with a wink and a nod, determined to run away with the green-robed granny and a big headline in tomorrow’s papers.

Too bad he sorely underestimated Carmen’s appeal. No sooner had he turned away the blonde than she was there. The brunette who had been shadowing granny—the one who’d caught his eye before his sea legs even hit dry land.

The crowd surged behind him, pushing him toward her even though his whole body had stopped dead a foot away from her. All at once, she was plastered against him, a slender but curvy-in-all-the-right-places body molded to his for one sensory overloading second before she stepped back an inch.

Heat simmered through his veins, nerve endings he hadn’t been aware of leapt to life, greedy for another round with the devastatingly feminine physique of the woman standing in front of him.

Who was not the woman he was supposed to grab, some annoyingly logical part of his brain insisted on reminding him.

Damn.

His mouth was so dry he didn’t stand a chance of eking out a “pardon me.” Not when her green cat eyes probed over him with slow thoroughness. Bad enough she licked her lips as her gaze wandered over his bare chest. But then she took her perusal a bit lower, and her full, pink lips curved into a smile.

God was not playing fair today. This was surely more temptation than one well-meaning man could possibly endure, wasn’t it?

Seth could carry her off on his boat for a few hours and lose all his cares in the warmth of her blatant invitation. He reached for her, effectively shutting off the practical side of his brain for two seconds.

Until the rolling base of a television camera ran over his foot at the same time a microphone appeared in between them.

Shit.

Cold reason returned, barely nudging out the heat pulsing through him. But he was on a mission, damn it, and he’d always prided himself on putting his company first. Every member of his family had money tied up in Chandler Enterprises and Gulf Coast Bank because they trusted Seth to think with his brain and not his…well, they trusted him.

Swallowing his regrets, Seth spun on his heel and reached for the green terry cloth beside Carmen. He would abduct granny because he was here on business. His wayward attraction to the bold brunette would only get him into trouble today.

Seth braced his feet to hoist the white-haired older woman into his arms, but instead of reeling in green terry cloth, Seth found himself with a red hibiscus tickling his nose.

Carmen had somehow twirled her way into his arms and glued herself to his chest.

Cold reason made a feeble attempt at resistance. His logical brain assured him this was not going according to his well-laid plans.

But before he could do anything about it the television cameras zoomed in on Carmen.

Right about the moment she started screaming.

2

MIA PREPARED TO belt out another round of mock terror for the big camera marked Channel 10, but the pirate stud beside her finally took the hint.

She’d been worried that, despite her best efforts, the bare-chested buccaneer would choose someone else to play “ravish the maiden” with. But engaging the media cameras and screaming her lungs out seemed to convince him she would be more fun than the hot-to-trot grandma in green.

Her brown-eyed Captain Kidd scooped her off her feet and into his arms, cradling her high against his chest.

Mia’s artfully tied sarong fell away from her legs to drape over his arm, exposing her thigh to unadulterated contact with one steely bicep.

Mmm.

Playing to the camera—or maybe just playing for the pleasure of it—Mia threw her arms about the pirate’s neck. Her silk-covered breasts grazed against his bare chest, the closest contact she’d had with any man for much, much too long. Heat prickled over her skin, anticipation curled low in her belly. Her adventure had officially begun.

And it felt wickedly delicious.

She winked and waved at the camera before she realized what she was doing. No doubt, someone in Twin Palms would be watching the five o’clock news on Channel 10. And with the way gossip traveled in a small town, her grandparents would think she was on her way to a life of dissolution by 5:05.

She turned her head into the crook of her captor’s neck and whispered into the warmth of his soap-scented skin. “Let’s get out of here.”

He flexed his fingers, squeezing his hold on her just a little tighter. “You stage your own abduction and now you’re in charge of the getaway, too?”

His smooth baritone held a note of amused censure, but he put his feet in motion before all the words left his mouth.

Deftly, he turned their bodies sideways for better aerodynamics to slice through the crowd of onlookers.

“I’d rather not be on the evening news,” she informed him, surprised that her weight didn’t seem to slow him down a bit. He navigated a path to the water’s edge as easily as if he walked alone.

She tried not to notice the interesting ripple of his abs as he moved. The play of muscle along her hip sorely distracted her.

“Could have fooled me. That performance of yours looked tailor-made for TV.” He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the cameras they’d left behind.

“No. That performance was tailor-made for you.” She’d promised herself she’d be bold today, and she wouldn’t back down from her goal, even if the half-naked man she’d set her sights on was a bit more intimidating than the sailor in a striped shirt she’d originally envisioned for this scenario.

She forced herself to recall he wasn’t really a pirate. No eighteenth-century man would have access to aftershave that smelled as sexy as this man’s.

“All that screaming and jumping into my arms was for my benefit?” He slowed his stride as they neared a docking area about a hundred yards north of the convention center. “Does that mean you know me, Carmen? Because I sure as hell would remember if I knew you.”

“Carmen?” Had she missed something? Maybe all those masculine pheromones were distorting her ability to remember her own name.

“You know, the aria-singing gypsy girl.” He nodded toward the hibiscus behind her ear. “I guess it’s the dark hair and the red flower.”

“Oh.” The analogy sounded wildly exciting. No one in Twin Palms would ever think of comparing her to an opera heroine. To them, she was just the Quentins’ granddaughter. “I’m Mia Quentin. And no, we’ve never met.”

Captain Kidd took a few more steps down a pier, his bare feet silent on the wooden planks. “I’m Seth Chandler. Care to tell me why you made it your mission to shriek your way in between me and the woman I planned to steal off with today?”

She hadn’t intended to be quite that bold this afternoon. But once she’d gotten a good view of Seth, she’d grown even more committed to her plan.

“Were you really going for a woman twice your age?” Did that sound too rude? “I mean, she had great legs and all, but—”

Seth set her on her feet with a thud at the end of the pier. “Don’t sweat it. Turns out Granny had her eye on another pirate anyway. Just before we left I saw her lock lips with our Krewe leader.”

“Good.” The knowledge soothed her somewhat as she stared down at a sleek white cabin cruiser tethered to the dock. “I’d hate to think I spoiled a rendezvous for you two.”

“You didn’t.” He stepped off the pier and into the sleek boat. “But that doesn’t answer my question.” He held out his hand to draw her aboard. “Why me?”

His question barely registered in her brain. Some last vestige of her reasonable self chose that moment to rear its head and ask her what the hell she was thinking to hop into a speedboat with a knife-wielding pirate she didn’t know from Adam.

Seth released a frustrated sigh and gestured to the dock behind her. “Unless you want to be tonight’s feature story, I suggest you hightail it into the boat.”

Mia chanced a glance over her shoulder and discovered a small fleet of journalists headed their way. Members of the media jogged down the sidewalk toward the wooden pier, dragging cameras and microphones along with them.

The sight made Mia’s decision for her. She leaped in the boat with both feet. “A cruise on the Bay sounds very inviting.”

Seth popped switches at the helm and fired the engine. “A pleasure cruise.” He flashed her a grin that was pure pirate. His half-naked body brushed against hers as he crossed the deck to untie the boat. “I can’t think of a better way to spend the day.”

Mia urged him to hurry, even as she wondered what she was getting herself into. She had a can of mace in her purse, however, and a crowd of people had seen them leave together. The guy would have to know he didn’t stand a chance of getting away with anything. Besides, she’d long-ago developed the ability to size up a man given the astonishing number of males her mother brought around. And Mia sensed a reassuring nobility in her bare-chested brigand.

Seth untethered them and slid back into his seat on the bridge, efficiently maneuvering out of the docking area with one hand, and peeling off his eye patch with the other.

Mia peered back toward land as they pulled away, but only until she noticed the lens of the television camera trained on them. Trying not to panic, she flung herself onto the bench seat just behind the steering wheel.

And right next to Seth. The man who’d said he was ready for a pleasure cruise.

Now things were starting to get interesting.

Mia straightened the flower in her hair, hoping she hadn’t forgotten how to flirt. She’d done so successfully in college—before her family had nearly run the tourist shop into the ground and her mother had single-handedly given Grandpa an ulcer.

Once Mia returned to Twin Palms from her art program at the University of Miami, she’d forgotten all about dating. Too many responsibilities to worry about as she’d bailed Grandma and Grandpa out of near bankruptcy. Then, after she’d stabilized their finances—barely—and was ready to start seeing people again, she quickly realized her grandparents worried themselves sick any time she went out with anyone but the boy next door.

And as upstanding and polite as Frankie the marina manager might be, Mia had no interest in him.

Thus went her social life. Until now.

“You really think it’s going to be a pleasure cruise?” Mia prompted, not caring if her fishing for reassurance was blatantly obvious. “Can I take that to mean you’ve sort of resigned yourself to me?”

Seth kicked the engines into a higher gear as they moved away from the flotilla and out of the main channels of traffic. Everyone in Tampa wanted to be at the festival but them.

“Depends.” He risked a glimpse at her now that the waterway had cleared out. “Are you ever going to answer my question?”

Had he asked her a question? Mia found it difficult to remember as he pinned her with dark eyes. Without the eye patch, she got the full impact of his intent gaze.

Her temperature climbed a few notches.

“What question?”

He shook his head and checked the channel, easing the boat around a barrier island toward open water. “What gives with the theatrics today? Why make a big deal out of planting yourself in my path if we don’t even know one another?”

“Oh, that question.” Mia created and discarded several answers before settling on the truth. “I’m looking for adventure. I thought being carried off by a pirate fit the bill quite nicely.”

She waited, worried. Would he kick her off the boat now that she’d admitted to scheming? Launch into an offended diatribe about roping him into her plot?

As they left the last of marine congestion behind them, Seth turned up the engines and the boat roared to full speed. Determined not to let her adventure end yet as the wind and water sprayed her face, Mia thought she could at least make a stab at enticing him, let him see her ideas for fun and excitement might be worth pursuing after all.

The scent of the bay, a pungent blend of fish and boat fuel, drifted through the air. The rumble of the engine and splash of water drowned out any sounds around them, insulating their world with white noise.

“I’m not really Blackbeard, you know,” Seth warned her, steering the cruiser into an occasional wave so that the spray kicked back all the more. “You’re not going to find much adventure with me.”

Says you.

Mia rose up on her feet, bracing herself on the broad band of windshield around the helm. She tipped her face into the spray and let the latest white-cap douse her.

Cool water sluiced over her, awakening her senses even though it barely diminished the warmth she experienced any time she so much as glanced at Seth.

All sense of caution washed away, Mia wrung out the water in her skirt as she stared down at him.

“Whoever you are, Seth Chandler, you’re all the excitement a girl could want on a pleasure cruise.”

WATER, WATER everywhere and not a frigging drop to drink.

Seth’s mouth had never been so parched as he tracked rivulets of H₂0 streaming down Mia Quentin’s exposed thigh. She tugged at the soggy floral fabric tied around her hips, revealing more and more tanned leg as she twisted the hem to squeeze out excess water.

He struggled to think, to edge words past his dry lips. “You really don’t know who I am.”

She shrugged, a provocative move on a woman bending forward. Seth caught a glimpse of red lace in the vee of her black silk blouse.

“Seth Chandler the pirate who says he’s not really a pirate. What more is there to know?” She straightened, allowing the damp, filmy skirt to fall back against her thighs.

Seth dragged his eyes up from a slow cataloguing of the way the fabric molded to her legs. Somewhere in the background of his lust-drenched thoughts, his brain screamed at him to pay attention to what she was saying.

“I guess there isn’t much more to know.”

“You work for Gulf Coast Bank?” She moved to the seat beside him, casually taking in the controls on the bridge.

He tensed. Did he work for the bank? Hell, Chandler Enterprises owned the bank, among other things. Maybe she knew who he was better than she let on.

She gestured to his pirate garb when he said nothing. “I mean, they were the corporate sponsors of Gasparilla, so I assume you work for them?”

Seth gauged her expression calling upon the ability to read people that had always served him well in business. He saw nothing but openness and honesty in Mia’s face. Relaxing, he assured himself she had no clue about his real identity—an intriguing aspect of Mia Quentin. Every woman Seth had dated in the past knew his net worth to the penny. A circumstance that could occasionally make a guy wonder if he was being dated for himself or his checkbook.

But Mia had wanted him. Sure, she’d picked him out because of an eye patch. But she was still here now, flashing glimpses of killer thigh, driving him to the edge of sanity along with the constant niggling reminder that he hadn’t had sex in four months.

The responsible thing to do would be to fess up. Too bad Seth had exceeded his quota of responsible acts for the week. He was more interested in seeing what would happen with Mia today.

“I do some work for the bank and a few other places. I’m sort of a go-to guy when they don’t have anybody else to take care of special projects.” Which was true.

“A Florida version of the Hollywood gopher?”

“Sort of.” Which was not true. At all. He didn’t want to explain who he was or what he did just yet, but he didn’t want to totally misrepresent himself, either.

He pointed the boat south and shuffled the conversation in another direction before he dug himself any deeper. “What do you do when you’re not out accosting unsuspecting men?”

“I’m in transition.” Her hibiscus drooped in her damp hair so she plucked it out and cradled the red bloom between her palms. “I’m helping my grandparents fortify their family business right now, but when I’m not balancing books and doing inventory, I like to think of myself as an artist.”

His view of her shifted to accommodate this new information. He watched her smooth her fingers over the petals of the flower, as if savoring the fragile texture.

“What kind of artist?” He leaned back in his seat, the boat requiring less of his attention now that they skimmed open water.

“Mostly I paint. I sculpt a little for fun, but I have more talent for painting—oils, watercolors, you name it.” She glanced up from her flower to meet his gaze. “Where are we headed anyway?”

Something about the way she changed the subject made Seth suspect she didn’t want to talk about herself. Or maybe her art.

“I thought we’d hit Egmont Key.” Too intrigued by the vision of Mia with a paintbrush to let the subject drop, Seth continued to probe. “What subjects do you like to paint? People? Landscapes?”

“I paint anything. But I’m not much of a realist. My work tends to be more colorful, more vivid than the real world.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” He let his gaze roam over Mia’s floral skirt, her oversize flower. “You’re like a walking hothouse. In fact, this is the most damn colorful day I’ve had in a long time.”

“That probably has more to do with the cutlass and the eye patch.” She crossed her legs, one toe pointing toward him, her foot mere inches from his calf.

He would definitely be jumping the gun if he reached over and pulled her against him. But he wanted to. Thinking about how much he wanted to delayed his response by several bracing, deep breaths.

“No, it’s you. I normally live in black and white, and trust me, I know a Technicolor kind of woman when I see one.”

“Then my adventure must be a success so far.”

Her smile lit up her whole face, animating her eyes, drawing attention to her sensual mouth. “How far is Egmont Key?”

Ten minutes was too far. Seth wanted nothing more than to stop the boat and talk to Mia. Stare at Mia. Find out if there was any chance he could have a relationship with a woman so different from any he’d ever known.

“Not much further. We’ll have time to wander around the island and still make it back for the press conference at eleven tonight.”

“Press conference?” She stiffened. The hibiscus stilled between her palms.

“Channel 10 is going to do a follow-up story on the people who were carried off by the Gasparilla pirates today. You’ll have a chance to tell your story tonight on the news.”

Was it his imagination, or did she look panicked?

He slid one hand over her dark brown hair, surprised how silky the strands felt even after being tossed about by the wind. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep things PG-rated for the viewers at home.”

She shook her head. “I can’t go on television.”

“It’s good public relations for the bank—”

“But not good public relations for me!”

How could Carmen, who could bring a pirate to his knees, be afraid of a little media exposure? “Why?”

She folded her arms over her body, her lips firmly sealed.

Her refusal to discuss the topic couldn’t have been any more eloquent.

“If you’re married, lady, you’re going to be riding the first wave back to shore.” Seth clutched the steering wheel, ready to take her home.

Until he saw the surprise scrawled across her face.

“No!” Mia shook her head. “Married? I don’t have room in my life for dating, let alone a husband. I assure you, I’m not married.”

Again, the honesty in her eyes convinced him. He believed her.

But damn it, Seth needed that publicity tonight. He’d bought the sponsorship for Gulf Coast Bank because it desperately needed some public recognition. A growing financial institution with small-town roots, it was the kind of business Seth loved to build. But after floundering in a sluggish economy for the past year, Gulf Coast needed the visibility boost Gasparilla could offer.

And, bottom line, the bank needed the extra air-time he and Mia could garner with their story.

“I’ve got it.” He snapped his fingers, pleased with himself. “If you go on the air and talk about our day together, you can also plug your paintings. You must have some for sale somewhere, right? You can talk about your next gallery showing or whatever.”

Interest flashed in her eyes for all of two seconds before her chin tilted her up and she shook her head. “Sorry, Seth. I can’t.”

“Why?” Was he so wrong to ask for an explanation? It’s not like he wanted to know so he could talk her into it in spite of her wishes. He wanted to know so that he could understand her, figure her out.

For a Technicolor artist, she was sure doing her best to keep part of herself hidden, shadowed.

Her fingers went back to their slow inventory of the hibiscus blossom, easing over each red petal.

“I make it a policy not to kiss and tell.”

He recognized that answer for what it was. A seductive rerouting of his thoughts to get him off her case.

Damned if it didn’t work like a charm.

His gaze flashed from red flower petals to soft red lips. It didn’t take him but two seconds to make the decision to cut the boat engines and concentrate on her.

“Planning on kissing your abductor?” His question hovered in the air. Without the hum of the motor, the only sound around them came in the form of water lapping the sides of the boat.

And their breathing.

Hers soft and even. His shallow and quick.

“I thought we already established that I’m the one in charge of this so-called abduction today.” With slow precision, Mia reached forward to set her flower on the helm, leaving her hands free, empty.

Seth picked up those hands and placed them on his shoulders, urged them around his neck.

“You thought wrong.” He slid his hands around her waist. The silk of her blouse was already dry, warmed by her skin beneath it. “Kissing is my domain, Carmen, and I’m going to kiss you for two reasons.”

She shifted closer, bringing with her the vague fragrance of exotic flowers, hothouse scents like jasmine or maybe orchids.

“I think reasoning defeats the point of kissing,” she whispered, her husky tone a siren’s song.

Determined to convince himself there was a reason for this kiss, Seth forged ahead, hovering closer to her lips. “First, kissing should be a part of any adventure.”

“Oh, I’m with you there.” Her green eyes locked on his, enticing him with sensual promise, urging him to forget his dumb-ass logic.

Without conscious permission, his fingers fanned out from his palms, reaching for new terrain over Mia’s gentle curves.

He swallowed. Hard. “And second,” he had to clear his throat as she wriggled beneath his hands, her body closing in on his. “I hear kissing can loosen the lips of women who won’t reveal their secrets.”

Mia tilted her head to one side, her gaze dipping down to his lips and then back up to his eyes. A slow smile curled her lips.

“Then by all means, sailor, give it your best shot.”

3

FROM THE MOMENT Seth’s lips touched hers, Mia realized this was a man who knew how to mix business with pleasure.

Pleasure abounded in his kiss, washing over her in waves as surely as if she dived into the undulating waters of the Gulf. His tongue tangled with hers, calling her to take a few risks in her life, to come and play for a change.

Yet the kiss held the down-to-business quality of a man on a mission, too. This was no casual exploration of mutual interest. The steady pressure of Seth’s body against hers told Mia in no uncertain terms that he wanted more, much more, than this kiss would give them.

Her heart rate sped, stamped out a heavy beat against her chest. His hands shifted up her body, brushing the sides of her breasts. Desire shot through her in automatic, irrefutable answer. Her silk top posed little barrier to the sensation of his warm fingers teasing her skin.

Kissing wasn’t at all like she remembered it in her college days. Oh, she’d shared a brief peck with Frankie the marina guy in Twin Palms, but she hadn’t really locked lips with anyone since her days at the University of Miami.

And although she’d had her share of fun back then, those college boys obviously hadn’t known what the hell they were doing. Their kisses hadn’t been so thorough, so deep, so…sexual.

The salty air, the sultry breeze over her skin, the briny scents of the sea, it all seemed so sexual. Sensation coiled between her thighs, a vivid pulse of pleasure that had never surfaced from just a kiss before.

“Oh my.” She whipped her hand up between them, bracing it between Seth’s chest and her own while bracing her against a tide of unexpected sensation in her most secret places.

“That’s just what I was thinking,” he whispered over her lips before indulging in another heady, roll-right-through-her kiss.

His tongue tangled with hers in obvious mating. He suckled her lower lip, drawing on the soft flesh in a way that sent her imagination spinning into overdrive.

His leg brushed against hers, his chest grazed her breast despite the barrier of her hand. The heady friction of their bodies created a seductive swirl of heat. Never had kissing seemed like such a microcosm of the sex act, so rife with innuendo of heady pleasures waiting for them….

The warmth inside her built, mounted, threatened to bowl her over. She couldn’t be feeling what she thought she was feeling. Not now. Not from just a kiss.

But then waves rocked the boat, swayed her whole body in a provocative rhythm that mirrored the seductive thrust and recede of actual intercourse until…

“Oh!” She couldn’t help the squeal of surprise, astonishment and all-out delight as an orgasm squeezed her insides, penetrated her every nerve ending. Sensation rocked her, saturating her senses and raining pleasure over every last cell of her body.

Oh my.

If Seth harbored any shock over her suddenly falling apart in his arms, he didn’t let on. Instead, he merely groaned in time with her rapturous sigh, echoing her pleasure as if it were his own.

He kissed her another moment before sliding away from her, leaving her wilted and only semisated—and still in total shock—on the helm seat.

Silence reigned in the aftermath. She couldn’t help but feel a bit exposed to his frank, assessing gaze in those moments of intense quiet, yet she couldn’t summon the will to object or do anything about it.

After long moments of shared heated breaths, he finally nodded his satisfaction. “I think I did more than loosen your lips.”

She had to laugh, despite being flustered. “Understatement of the year.”

“I take it you like kissing?” He swiveled to face her, propping an arm along the back of the cream-colored vinyl seat, his fingers toying with her hair.

A residual shiver tripped over her at his touch.

“I’ve never liked it that much before.” She straightened her floral skirt to cover up a little more thigh, her fingers still trembling just a little. “That was a definite first for me.”

“Really?” He flashed her an all-male smile, at once possessive and full of pride. “Must have been a hell of a kiss.”

“It might have been partly the rocking of the boat, too.” Her cheeks heated a little at the open acknowledgement of what had just happened, but she couldn’t very well let him think she was the kind of woman who came apart at the brush of a man’s lips.

Far from it.

She’d had sex before that hadn’t been as…fulfilling…as Seth’s kiss.

His smile slipped. “The rocking of the boat?”

“Well, partly.” She tried to shrug off the awkwardness of the moment, looking out across the vast expanse of open water, no land in any direction. She gathered her courage, determined to be bold for a change. She tried to imagine what her mother might say to a man in this situation. “Is it just me, or is that rocking kind of an erotic movement?”

Granted, she had been a closet sensualist for most of her life. She had never been as good a sculptor as she was a painter, but she still sculpted because she loved the slide of wet clay over her palms, the twirl of a half-formed object coming to life in her hands.

She dreamed of one day planting a huge flower garden so she would have an excuse to play in the dirt, to absorb the rich scents of damp earth, blooming jasmine and honeysuckle.

So maybe she was unique in her enjoyment of a rocking boat. She stared at Seth as he grew quiet, perhaps concentrating on the gentle undulation of water beneath them.

For a moment, he stared into her eyes. As a small wave swayed the cruiser, lifting them up and back down in their seats, a current of pure electricity sizzled between them, connecting them in a mutual thought, a mutual feeling.

“Holy hell.” Seth shot to his feet, gripping the windshield of the helm to brace himself for the sudden move.

“You see what I mean?”

“Yeah, I see exactly what you mean and thanks for ruining my fishing trips for the next fifty years.” He swiped a hand through his spiky brown hair, leaving the strands standing up even straighter than before. “We’d better get out of here before we start going down a dangerous path.”

She rose, insinuating herself between him and the boat’s ignition. “Dangerous” sounded like exactly what she needed. Hadn’t she been hiding from taking chances for too long already? No way was she going back to Twin Palms without the assurance that she could take a few risks now and then.

“But that’s exactly where I want to go.” She’d signed on for adventure, damn it. She’d never find it if they stuck to Seth’s predetermined plan of tourist fun for the day.

Her mother wouldn’t settle for that if she was looking for adventure. This week, neither would Mia. She flashed him her best flirtatious smile and beckoned him closer.

“Why don’t you show me the rest of your boat?” SHE MIGHT as well have asked to see his etchings. Seth knew exactly where she was headed with this “show-me-your-boat” business, and he wasn’t so sure he should go there.

He barely knew Mia. And although he’d dated plenty of women, he’d never dated a woman he didn’t know well. Maybe some he’d only known a brief time chronologically, but he always understood their type—sophisticated, fast-track, know-the-score women who were as upwardly mobile and ambitious as him.

Mia didn’t fit into any type he recognized. A self-confessed sensualist artist who didn’t hesitate to kidnap a pirate and cause a big scene. Yet she balked at the idea of being on television, even if it might help her career.

And, God help him, she could come undone in his arms with just a kiss. He was still battling the surge of lust he’d felt at seeing her fly apart.

But no matter how overtly enticing she might be, or how much she might say she just wanted a little adventure in her life, Seth had the feeling sex with Mia wouldn’t be the kind of thing he could just walk away from. He’d known her for a couple of hours and already he felt mesmerized by those big green eyes of hers. The contradiction of her sensual nature and her forward way of speaking proved an appealing puzzle.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea to see the rest of the boat.” He reached for the ignition but Mia shifted her hip in his path.

He drew his hand back, knowing if he touched her once more, he wouldn’t be able to stop touching her.

“Why not?” She peered around the deck until her gaze landed on the stairs leading to the berth.

“Because there’s a bed down there, Mia. A big bed in a tiny cabin.” Was he the dumbest guy on earth to forsake a chance at having this sexiest-of-all female in that bed? Or was he being smart to save himself messy complications with a woman he’d probably never understand?

He plowed ahead, hoping he fell into the latter category. “And I don’t think it’s such a good idea to go traipsing down there next to that big bed when we’re both already thinking about orgasms and sex and…undulation.”

A breeze tossed her dark hair over her shoulder, sending the silky strands to wave, flaglike, behind her. She smiled, a small upturn of her lips that called to mind illicit kisses and all the things a sensualist sort of woman might do with her mouth.

“You make it sound like a dirty word,” she chastened.

“No, you make it sound like a sexy-as-hell word when it shouldn’t be.” He’d probably get an erection for the rest of his life when he heard someone say “undulate.” Lucky for him, it wasn’t the kind of thing apt to surface in daily conversation, right?

She edged by him, her gaze focused on the stairs behind the helm.

“Wait a minute.” He scrambled after her, her floral skirt flapping in the breeze and teasing him with glimpses of thigh. “Where are you going?”

“I just want to look around. You don’t need to come with me.” Mia gripped the handrail at the head of the stairs and started down, puckering her lips at him to pantomime an exaggerated kiss before she totally disappeared. “Although you might have fun if you let yourself.”

No other man with even a flicker of a pulse would ignore such a blatant invitation. But damn it, he didn’t get involved in relationships lightly. Never had. Never would.

His father’s lack of commitment to his family had taught Seth from an early age to be responsible, to take care of everyone around him, and most of all, not to get involved with any woman on the spur of the moment to assuage some temporary hunger.

Seth had only just taken his boat out of storage last weekend, and he sure as hell didn’t have any condoms lying around for protection’s sake. No way was he getting into a situation he couldn’t control, even if the woman in question had him wound so tight he couldn’t see straight.

“Wow! You call this tiny?” Mia enthused from downstairs, her thin sandals padding around the hardwood floors below deck. “This is huge!”

Her compliment nudged him closer to the stairwell.

He’d always loved this dang boat. The cruiser had been his first totally selfish purchase once he’d had enough money to do as he pleased. Now he could afford a boat that would make this one look like an afterthought, but Seth would sooner part with his corner office with a Bay view or his fifty-yard line season tickets for Buccaneers games before he traded in his boat.

How could he not go downstairs to sing its praises when Mia was so obviously interested? He could take ten minutes to show her the boat and then they’d be on their way to a routine tourist trek to Egmont Key.

Besides, it wasn’t like Mia was going to jump him, right?

He took the stairs two at a time and realized by the time he got to the bottom that his body seemed to be in charge here and his rational mind was in danger of being utterly ignored. Knowing that didn’t stop his feet from finding their way to Mia.

She stood in the salon, turning her head every which way and running her palm across the surface of an interior wall.

When she noticed him, she pointed toward the porthole. “The light is great in here. See how that last little bit of sunset casts a pinkish glow on this wall? You need a strip of mural right here to soak up the colors.”

He envisioned a painting of a big fish on the wall. “How about a guy wrestling an oversize dolphin fish?”

She frowned. “I was seeing more of a quiet tropical island, but I guess that would work.”

“You want the tour?”

Nodding, she joined him, taking his arm so he could lead her through the cabin areas. He started with the master stateroom so he could get it over with first. The double bed seemed much bigger than that in the small space. A navy comforter and white pillows made the room inviting, and Seth braced himself to be enticed by Carmen the Temptress.

“Nice,” Mia commented, taking it all in before she backed into another room. “And this is the kitchen?”

“Galley,” he corrected automatically, surprised at the twinge of disappointment he experienced at not being wrestled onto the bed. He reached into the chest of drawers in his stateroom and found a T-shirt to wear, then joined her in the kitchen. “I’m not much of a chef, but then, it doesn’t take much talent to make fresh fish taste good.”

“So this boat belongs to you, not the bank?” Mia ran her fingers over the countertops, clicking out a quick rhythm with her nails on the laminated surface.

Of course, she thought he worked for Gulf Coast. Part-time pirate and full-time gopher. How the hell could he have ever afforded a toy like this on a pirate’s wages?

“Yeah. I bought it a few years ago with some money I’d been saving.” Not an outright lie. Still, he hustled to redirect her as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. “But I spend a lot of time on the water, so it seemed worth it. You probably don’t think twice about how much you spend on paints and canvas.”

She followed him toward the guest stateroom, a cabin rich with red woods and burgundy linens. “Painting is a lot cheaper than sculpting at least. Clay is reasonable, but if you want to work in stone, you can go into debt in no time. Especially if you mess up and need to start over again.”

Drifting toward the stairs, Mia seemed to be finished with the tour. And she hadn’t even tried to talk him into a torrid coupling on the double bed.

Well, damn.

Before he could consider the consequence of the action, he reached out to grip one arm, lightly holding her still. “Wait, Mia.”

She pivoted to face him, her straight brown hair blowing in the breeze wafting down from the deck. “Hmm?”

Now that he had her attention, he had to scavenge for his thoughts. His mind kept flashing back to that moment on the helm seat when she’d lost herself in a world of sensation. The moment her head had tipped back and…

“Seth?”

Her eyes were sharply focused now as she stared into his, waiting for him to speak.

“We never got a chance to talk more after what happened on deck….”

She closed her eyes, and for a moment, Seth thought perhaps he’d embarrassed her by bringing it up. But then, she opened her eyes again and blurted, “The orgasm incident?”

“That’s the one.” The woman didn’t mince words. “But I thought maybe you’d be willing to talk to me now, maybe tell me why you won’t go back for the press interview tonight.”

“Why? Are you going to try to coerce me into going anyway?”

She not only didn’t mince words, she obviously didn’t pull punches either.

He shrugged. “I hear the bank shells out a lot of money to sponsor Gasparilla. Part of my job is to create good P.R., and to make sure you have a good time today. But it seems like I can’t possibly do both. You’re not going to have a good time if you have to give the bank any more publicity, right?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to give back to the bank.” She sighed, leaned a shoulder against the doorframe around the stairs. “I just have a family with very old-fashioned values who will promptly go into cardiac arrest if they see me on TV with a half-dressed pirate talking about my day in captivity.”

A wave rocked the boat, reminding Seth of undulating and other things he shouldn’t be thinking about right now. He tugged her by the hand toward the salon, hoping if they took a seat they wouldn’t feel the rocking of the damn boat quite so much.

“That probably sounds like the hang-up of some college kid,” she continued as she followed him, dutifully sinking into the curved, green leather sofa. “But honestly, my grandparents are getting up there in years and I swear my granddad’s ulcers get worse with every guy I date.”

Seth nodded, understanding all too well the need to put family first. He flicked the lights on the lowest setting and slid into the seat next to her, careful to leave a few feet between them. No sense tempting fate. “You’re close to your grandparents?”

“They pretty much raised me. My mom is single and she’s never really gotten it through her head that having a child requires some stability. I adore my mom, but we’re more like sisters than mother and daughter.” She toyed with the fringe on her skirt for a moment, lost in thought. Then, as if remembering he was there, she crossed her legs and flipped her hair over one shoulder. “But I did not jump into your arms today so we could discuss my family. I thought maybe you called me back here because you were ready to try out the bed now.”

“You’re concerned about your grandfather’s ulcers, yet you would sacrifice yourself to a pirate’s lust for the sake of adventure?” Sounded damn good to him, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He had to give her credit for openness and honesty. The woman didn’t know the meaning of the word coy. “Have you considered that maybe your granddad worries himself sick for a good reason?”

“Not a chance. Face it, Chandler. You’d be sacrificing yourself to my lust, and no one but us has to know.” She kicked her sandaled foot in a slow, circular rhythm. “So what do you say? Are you game?”

Was he game? Hell, maybe he should tear a page from her book and take things a little less seriously. He knew he couldn’t afford to try out the bed for real. But if he viewed this more in terms of a three-strikes-and-you’re-out sort of game, he ought to be able to kiss her one more time without losing control completely.

And he deserved that kiss after the day he’d been having. He’d had to fend off a costumer who’d tried to talk him into wearing a hook on his hand, and ended up submitting to a tricorn hat he later tossed overboard. He suffered an eye patch for half a day and had paraded into town bare-chested and yo-ho-hoing.

No wonder pirates demanded a little booty for their trouble.

“I don’t trust either of us near that bed, Mia, and with good reason.” He settled his hand on her knee, allowing the heat of his palm to penetrate the cool silk of her skin. “But I know another game you might enjoy.”

MIA WONDERED if it was possible to melt at a man’s touch. If so, she stood a very good chance of pooling at Seth’s feet any moment because his hand on her knee made her whole body turn warm and liquid.

She’d been so hell-bent determined to attract his attention, to make him waver from his honorable, “hands-off” course, that she had no idea what to do once her plan started working.

And judging by the heated challenge in his eyes, it was working very well.

“Another game?” she managed to push past dry lips.

He walked his fingers up the outside of her thigh until his hand landed on her hip. Then he scooted her closer to him in the dimly lit salon. “It’s called ‘let’s see if we can make lightning strike twice.’”

She was still processing what exactly that meant when he angled his lips over hers. Realization hit at the same time he cupped her cheek in his palm and tilted her mouth for a deeper taste.

The man planned to drug her with his aphrodisiac kisses and then coax her right into orgasmic heaven.

All of which sounded delightful, except…

“That’s not fair to you.” Mia broke off their kiss, much to her lips’ regret. Heat simmered between them, fogging the porthole windowpane behind them.

Seth flexed his fingers on her hip, caressed the curve of her waist with the broad expanse of his palm. “It’s perfectly fair,” he whispered, leaning forward to reclaim her mouth.

She shook her head, refusing him in spite of the persuasive press of his chest against hers. “No, I think you’d better let me pay you back first.”

He stared at her through lazy brown eyes. “Honey, I can’t think of anything I’d like more than to watch those waves roll right over you again, to see your mouth fall open and your head tip back when you—”

“No.” Sensing the need to take action before he had her talked into becoming erotically dependent on him, Mia walked her fingers down his chest to the waistband of his khaki shorts. “I can think of something you would definitely like more.”

His abs flexed under her touch. He tensed, his whole body going still as she continued a relentless path down his shorts toward the ridge she spied very clearly.

She didn’t know where she found the nerve. Maybe too many nights of longing for adventure, of promising herself she’d take advantage of this trip away from home, had conspired to mold her into this wild woman.

Gathering her courage, she smoothed her hand over that ridge and looked him in the eye.

“I bet I send you into orbit without ever hitting the sheets.”

4

A MAN COULD PASS OUT over that kind of invitation.

Seth knew this firsthand, because Mia’s erotic proposal sent every drop of his blood on a heated southbound tidal wave, leaving him damn near light-headed and too turned-on to think straight.

All he had to do was nod.

Instead, some dying part of his conscience rasped out a gravelly, “What?”

Mia’s hand curled around him, assuring him he’d understood the message. “Payback can be very satisfying.”

There could be no mistaking how much he wanted to. She couldn’t help but realize the full extent of his hunger for her.

Unfortunately, something about the word “payback” on her lips niggled his numbed brain cells, reminding him that he expected more from his relationships than just an even exchange of pleasure.

Cursed principles.

He edged away from her, prying himself up off the couch. Was it his imagination, or was there a hint of disappointment in her eyes that went beyond sexual frustration? “I’d give my eyeteeth to take you up on that offer, Mia, but I made a promise to myself a long time ago not to indulge in this kind of thing lightly.”

She bit her lip, broadcasting an uncertainty he hadn’t expected from her. “I guess I misinterpreted your kiss. I thought you wanted this, too.”

The flash of self-doubt in her eyes lashed at his stupid conscience, making him feel like a total heel.

“I do want this, Mia. I want it so much it’s damned well about to kill me.” Still, he backed up a step as he said it, knowing if he let himself get too close to her again, any promises from his past would be incinerated to ashes. “I just didn’t plan for this and I don’t have any way to protect you….” He’d be lying if he let her think that was the only reason why. She didn’t even know his true identity. “But mostly I just don’t let myself get involved with any woman I’m not fully committed to.”

Assuming a live-in relationship constituted a full commitment, anyway. He wasn’t his father, damn it. At least he offered something beyond sex to the women he slept with.

Her mouth curved into a perfectly round O though no sound came forth. Her cheeks tinged pink for a few seconds, confirming his fear that he’d embarrassed her.

“You’ve got to know it’s not you,” he rushed to assure her, guilt nipping at his heels. “Hell, look at me. I’m a walking advertisement for how much I’d like to take you up on that offer.”

Her green eyes slid downward to linger just below his waist.

His temperature spiked a few more degrees, making him wonder why he found it necessary to reassure a woman who was leading him around by the…nose.

A slow smile curled her lips, her feminine pride apparently soothed by his obvious arousal. “Then I suppose the polite thing for me to do would be to leave you alone so I don’t tempt you any further.”

His wayward libido already protested the move. “That would be helpful, yes.”

“Okay.” Her green cat eyes met his again, alight with mischief. “I’ll let you go about your business and I’ll go about mine as if you weren’t even here.”

He nodded, half-hating that plan, but knowing his promise not to get involved with any woman on a casual basis wouldn’t survive the rest of the trip without her cooperation.

“Okay, then.” He backed himself right into the staircase, his heel colliding with the first step. “I’d better start up the boat and get us underway again. It’s too dark to see much of anything on the island now, but we can at least circle the key before we head back to Gasparilla.”

She nodded a bit too agreeably. How could she be taking this so well when his body cursed volumes at him?

“Okay. If you don’t mind, I’ll go up on deck too, but I promise to sit on the other side of the boat.”

He was about to tell her that wasn’t necessary, but judging from the way his pulse kicked into overdrive at her approach, she was probably better off out of reach.

“Of course.” He turned to take the stairs two at a time. “It’s a great night to see the stars,” he called to her as he hit the deck. Maybe a little sky gazing would keep them both distracted.

“Don’t worry about me,” she replied, heading for the bow while he slid into the helm seat. “I don’t even know you’re here.”

Seth frowned, his ego taking another hit that she could write him off with such ease. He should be patting himself on the back that he’d averted a crisis, but instead, he could only think about how much he’d cost himself by rejecting Mia’s tantalizing offer.

With an oath, he turned the key in the boat’s ignition, dragging his gaze from her curvy silhouette outlined in moonlight.

Lost in the contemplation of those curves, it took Seth a minute to realize that noting had happened when he’d turned the key. No throaty growl of twin engines greeted his ears. The only sound he could hear was the incessant undulation of waves against the boat.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

He clicked off the ignition and tried again.

Nothing.

Recognition slid over him. This had happened to him once before, his first year with the boat. After keeping a vessel in storage, sometimes condensation could flood the fuel cell and corrupt both engines. No doubt, that accounted for the silence, the darkness on the water.

A silence broken only by the smooth lap of the waves. A darkness interrupted only by the outline of sexy Mia Quentin slowly peeling off her skirt.

NO SELF-RESPECTING Floridian would ever dream of jumping into the middle of the Gulf in February. Spring Breakers and snowbirds didn’t mind, but she wouldn’t normally venture so much as a toe in the surf until at least April.

Thing is, she was smarting just a little from Seth’s continued rejection. She’d put so much effort into today’s pirate seduction that she couldn’t imagine returning to endless days of hawking seashell necklaces in Twin Palms without at least making it to second base with her quarry.

What more could she do to capture the man’s attention, other than rip off her clothes? As a final resort she was willing to fake the urge for an evening swim. In truth, she didn’t want to get anywhere near that water. Not only because of the cold, but because she knew better than to swim in strange waters at night.

But he didn’t have to know that.

She had the feeling she’d succeeded in catching his eye when a strangled expletive shot across the deck.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Seth stormed right across the bow right behind his words.

Mia’s skirt already lay pooled at her feet. Her silk blouse just barely covered the red lace bikini bottoms that looked more like panties than swimwear.

“I thought I’d go for a dip to clear my head once we get to the shallow waters around Egmont Key.” She hoped he wouldn’t notice the goose bumps populating both her bare legs.

“A dip?” He reached for her sarong and held it in between them like a shield. “Jesus, woman, are you crazy? There could be sharks in there for all you know.”

She hoped the dark would hide the blood blanching right out of her face. She hadn’t even thought of the sharks. But did he have to stare at her like she’d just lost her mind along with half her outfit?

Reaching for the hem of her shirt, she flashed him what she hoped was a nonchalant smile. “Then maybe I’ll settle for letting the back spray of the water cool me off once we get underway again.”

With a quick prayer for a little more nerve to carry her through, Mia whipped the silk blouse over her head and flung it into the night breeze.

Seth didn’t look turned on so much as he looked like he’d just swallowed a frog or something equally uncomfortable. She wondered if she’d overestimated her appeal in this high-octane, red lace swimsuit and cursed herself for dropping three figures on a getup she’d most likely never wear again.

She could have had an all-out spree at the art supply store for what she’d spent.

By now, Mia only wished she could crawl back into her clothes and forget her stupid wish for adventure. Seth’s expression remained as horrified as if she’d told him he had to walk the plank. His lips moved, but so far, no sound issued forth from his mouth.

“Put. This. On.” Finally, he eked out that much, handing her the sarong.

Defeated, she yanked the gauzy floral fabric out of his hand and shook out the wrinkles. “Fine. I will. But you were supposed to pretend I wasn’t even here, remember?”

“I could scarcely function when you had your clothes on. I’m supposed to ignore you when you’re almost naked?”

Despite the fact that he was practically yelling at her, Mia’s mood improved considerably. Maybe her efforts hadn’t been wasted after all.

“Sorry.” She wrapped the sarong around her waist and tied the knot with slow deliberation. “I thought you were going to be concentrating on driving the boat and you wouldn’t even notice me.”

His gaze narrowed, communicating his suspicion quite effectively. Still, he didn’t comment on her blatant lie. “That’s where we have a little problem.”

“We do?”

“The boat won’t start.” The grimace on his face made him look dangerous enough to sport the eye patch and dagger he’d long ago ditched.

Mia realized she didn’t experience the slightest qualm at the thought of being stuck out here alone with Seth, however. After seeing him play noble with her one too many times tonight, she figured he must be a pretty upstanding, trustworthy guy.

“The boat won’t start? It sounds like a tried and true ploy to fool around with your date.” She sidled closer, just in case Seth had changed his mind about testing out the bed below deck. “Remember on Happy Days when Richie would conveniently run out of gas so he could score with his girlfriend?”

“Do you think that’s what I’m doing? Not starting up my boat to angle for more time with you when I’ve just admitted you’ve got me tied up in so many damned knots I can’t think straight?” The rippling water below them cast constantly moving shadows over Seth’s face. The moonlight that would have seemed pale on dry land now lit their whole world.

“Spoilsport.” Mia shivered and tried to hide it. If ever she’d been worried she’d inherited her mother’s wild ways with men, Seth’s reaction to her tonight had put that fear to rest in a hurry. “Care to at least tell me how we’re going to get home then?”

Seth’s jaw clenched as he bent to pick up her blouse off the deck. “I’m sure we could signal someone for a tow, but if you don’t mind waiting a little longer to be rescued, I’d prefer to have my uncle come get us. He’ll be able to fix the boat tomorrow if I can get it to him tonight.” He handed her the shirt, keeping his eyes trained on her face.

“I’m in no hurry.” She shrugged into the halter top, disappointed to see Seth pulling a cell phone out of his pants pocket rather than watching her. “Even though you’re determined to thwart all my adventures, at least I’m getting to spend some time out on the water tonight. That’s sort of fun.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a boat. She didn’t own one, and she would never rent one given her run-ins with Frankie the marina guy.

“Sorry about this, Mia.” He started punching numbers into the keypad, pointing the antenna back toward St. Petersburg.

“Not a problem.” Time to grow up and pack away her fantasy. “I should be thanking you instead of trying to lead you astray. This is more adventure than I’ve had in ages.”

He rolled his eyes. “We’ll see if you’re still saying that after you’ve been stuck out here another hour and—” He held up his finger as he listened to whatever was going on at the other end of his phone call, then spoke into the receiver. “Hey Uncle Brock, it’s Seth…”

Mia slipped away from his conversation and headed toward the back of the boat, unwilling to cause the guy any more grief tonight. She wasn’t sure whether to applaud his noble efforts not to dally with a woman he wasn’t seeing, or to curse his incredible restraint for not making a move on her since the oh-so-startling orgasm incident.

The night air held a slight chill, but not enough to give her goose bumps even without Seth next to her. She smoothed her hands up and down her bare arms, wishing for Seth’s touch instead of her own.

Why hadn’t she paid more attention to her mother’s seductive moves around men? Maybe she’d be rolling around in the pirate’s cabin being treated to a mind-blowing ravishing instead of haunting the shadows while Seth tied up the details with his uncle.

But she’d given it her best shot, damn it. She didn’t want a relationship in her life—she’d seen firsthand from her mother how men could distort a woman’s priorities and make her forget what was important in life.

She’d only wanted a weekend to play, and somehow she had managed to get herself kidnapped by a sexy pirate. Even if the story ended right there, it was more excitement than she’d been treated to since her mother had surprised her with an offer to work a few hours in the tourist shop last week.

Of course, tonight’s adventure would be just as fleeting as that offer would probably turn out to be.

Mia just wasn’t the kind of woman to live on the edge, and sooner or later she was going to have to resign herself to that. She was going to leave Seth far behind once they hit dry land.

Right after she stole one more kiss.

SETH WAITED as long as he could to approach her. He’d tried calling his brother umpteen times to discuss the boat problems but got no answer. He’d checked and double-checked the engines, hoping he overlooked some glitch in the mechanics he could fix after all.

Now, he couldn’t put off spending a few more minutes with her before his uncle arrived. He was supposed to be showing her a good time tonight. Instead he’d spent the entire night running from her.

He regarded Mia sprawled out along the cushions at the back of the boat. She lay on one side, propped on an elbow and looking out over the moonlit water.

Her resemblance to Carmen had faded since she’d lost her flower and she no longer flaunted her very appealing self in front of him. Now, her long hair trailed down over her shoulders and snaked around her body at intriguing intervals.

She gave the impression of a sea nymph washed up out of the water, and Seth suddenly envisioned exactly what he wanted painted on that blank wall below deck. Her. Irrepressible Mia Quentin, possibly clad in nothing but red lace.

He’d barely recovered from that most recent assault on his senses. He was lucky he hadn’t gone into cardiac arrest at that little stunt.

He’d dated his share of beautiful women. But they all sort of blended together in his memory now, a chain of failed relationships with women who’d been all wrong for him, women who left citing the same catalog of his shortcomings.

Of course, the possibility loomed that he sucked at relationships and that every one of those women had been right. Given his high rate of failure, that seemed fairly likely.

But maybe, just maybe, he’d made a mistake in choosing the kinds of women to get involved with. One day, instead of finding women who were as cynical about dating as him, he would be with someone more passionate, someone who hadn’t lost her sense of optimism for romance.

Someone like Mia.

The idea teased the edges of his brain, tempting him with a mental picture every bit as enticing as the one of Mia in red lace. He’d been running from her because he didn’t get involved with any woman lightly. But what if he initiated something more committed with Mia? Would she go for a relationship, or was she such a wild child that one-night encounters and pirate abductions were more her speed?

Too bad he’d started the night off by lying to her about his ties to the Gasparilla fest. Would she resent his evasion of the truth? Or would she be all the more tempted to give up her wild child ways if she knew his bottom line?

The thought grated.

“Are you going to join me, Blackbeard, or am I going to have to stargaze by myself all night?” Mia twisted on the cushions to glance back at him, her smile beckoning him.

Damn it. He wanted her. Wanted more from her than just this night. But telling her who he was might irrevocably shift their relationship into the same territory that always got him into trouble with women. He never knew if they wanted him for himself.

“Come on, Chandler. I promise I won’t bite.” Mia sat up and patted the vacated space beside her. “This time, anyway.”

Seth weighed his options as he moved closer. Edgy from wanting this woman, he couldn’t afford to make rash decisions based on sexual attraction. He would feel out the situation a bit, maybe get a handle on how receptive she would be to exploring things a little more slowly.

Mia folded her arms and propped her feet on the low rail ringing the edge of the deck. “I don’t suppose you came over here for one last kiss?”

He slid into place beside her, wondering how he could ever move slowly, even if he could convince her they should take their time. “That depends. What if I didn’t want this to be the last kiss, but the first of many more?”

She lifted one delicate brow in surprise. “I think I made it perfectly clear I was willing to engage in the sensual activities of your choice tonight.” She started to smile, but midway up, her lips did a U-turn, curving into a definite frown. “But don’t you think your uncle will be arriving soon?”

It took him a minute to recover from thinking about the sensual activity of his choice. “That’s not what I meant. I was thinking more along the lines of one kiss tonight, and another kiss tomorrow. Maybe a few more next weekend.”

Her frown downgraded to an outright scowl. He wouldn’t have thought the woman who had practically jumped him two hours ago could all but recoil in horror from him now.

“Are you implying we should see each other again?”

“Don’t you think that’s a more natural progression after a few shared kisses than fast forwarding straight to sheet tangling?”

“No!” She blurted the word, but blushed in its aftermath. “I mean, maybe for some people that’s a reasonable way to go about things, but I’m not in the market for a relationship right now.”

Didn’t women always want to be in a relationship? Seth had never encountered any problems selling women on monogamy before. But then, he’d never met a woman as wild and willing as Mia.

The idea that she would turn him down niggled the competitive streak in him. His stubborn refusal to lose had cemented his rise to the top of his profession.

And damn it, he didn’t want her trying out all that wild and willing energy on anyone but him.

“Why not? You have more pirates to run off with next week?”

She hugged her knees to her body, green eyes fixed at a point far out in the water. “I have to get back to real life next week. That means no more pirates, pleasure cruises or undulating. I’ve got a business to run, a dysfunctional family to manage and about ten doctors’ appointments to drag my grandparents to. Besides, even if Grandpa didn’t go into a downward health spiral every time a man came near me, I would be too mired in work to sneak in any kisses next weekend.” She tipped her head sideways to glance at him. “Thanks for offering though. It helps soothe my stinging feminine pride a bit to think you might have been interested if we’d had more time.”

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