Anything He Wants: Castaway #1(17)
Author: Sara Fawkes

“I…” My heart clenched painfully. “I thought I did.” Right now, my opinions about Jeremiah were all jumbled, due in no small part to the man lying naked atop me. “He saved my life.”

“I saved your life too. Twice.”

I winced at the reminder, hand going to the bandage at my throat. “Yeah,” I mumbled, dropping my gaze. A lump formed in my throat and I screwed my face up against tears. “When I told him I loved him, it was the first time I’d said that to anyone since my parents died.” The memory was powerful enough to pierce my heart again. “He just called the words ‘platitudes’.”

“My brother is an idiot.” Lucas said it in a matter of fact way, as if the phrase was as common to his lips as breathing. Then he sighed. “Love is a fickle and cruel mistress. Confusing as hell too.”

“Yeah.”

We stayed in amicable silence for another moment, then I put my hand up to my hair. “I should probably finish my shower,” I muttered, grimacing as I felt the damp, tangled locks spread out over the pillow.

“I think you look fantastic,” Lucas said with a straight face, and I swatted him on the shoulder. He grinned down at me. “In fact…”

He nudged my thigh and I realized, with some shock, that he was hard again. His amusement grew at my surprise. “I want to taste you again.” His throaty voice set fire to my insides.

I ran my fingers in his hair as he gave me a soft kiss, and then closed my eyes as his lips trailed down my body once again.

We made love twice more before falling asleep curled up around one another. Time meant little in that dark room. No sunlight pierced the gloom, and nobody disturbed us.

Made love. When Lucas touched me, fingertips burning brands into my skin, I tried hard not to think about what those words meant to me any more.

A loud hammering on the door jolted me awake. “Lucas, we need you outside,” Frank’s voice shouted through the door. “Captain swears he saw a boat coming up on us. Might be pirates.”

I paused in confusion, but Lucas leaped out of bed, turning on a lamp and throwing on clothes. “Pirates?” I asked, failing to reconcile the peg-leg image in my head with the modern era.

“We’re getting close to the Caribbean,” Lucas said, stepping into his pants, “and a few roving bands of outlaws still prey on ships down there. I didn’t think we’d come across any this far north though.” He looked over at me. “You’d better get dressed.”

He slipped out the door as I rolled out of bed, and I hurried to lock it behind him. Grabbing up clothes from the bathroom, I quickly dressed, keeping an ear open for anything strange. The tamping of feet outside my room shook the floor, but I didn’t hear anything else suspicious. For a second I looked for the knife and then remembered that I’d left it stuck inside Alexei’s leg. The most dangerous thing in the room was the picture frame. I clutched it, wishing I’d been left something with which to defend myself.

From somewhere on the ship, there came a series of pops. I froze, clutching the frame in both hands, the edges cutting lines into my palms. More footsteps sounded outside the door, quiet this time but I could still feel each footfall. Don’t come in here, please don’t come in here…

The handle shook, then a crunch as someone attempted to pound it open. I gave a terrified squeak, racing for the bathroom right as the door gave, slamming open. A black figure filled the doorway, and I stopped immediately when I saw the big assault rifle in his hands turn towards me.

The gun lowered almost immediately, and I screamed as the figure reached for me. Batting away the hand with the frame, I turned to run toward the bed, but an arm wrapped around my waist, hauling me off the ground. Thumping at the bare arm with the picture frame, my second scream was cut off when a dark hand wrapped around my mouth.

“Lucy,” a familiar voice muttered in my ear, and I stopped struggling in shock. “I’m getting you off this boat.”

The frame fell from my numb fingers, cracking against the thin carpet. The hand lifted off my mouth. “Jeremiah?” I whispered, struggling to turn around.

He put me back on my feet, and I stared up at the man. Black grime streaked his face and arms, but those oh-so-familiar green eyes blazed like torches. I put my hand out to touch his face, then covered my mouth, unable to believe what I was seeing.

Then from the doorway came the click of a cocking gun, and Jeremiah froze, head snapping upright.

“Hello, little brother.” Jeremiah shoved me behind him as he turned to face Lucas.

The gunrunner quirked an eyebrow, then glanced at me. “Well, isn’t this awkward.”