Excerpt from PREPARE TO BE BOARDED

It took an hour for the other ship to close with them. Eliza and Mary Ann stood by the rail and watched it grow progressively larger. Captain Bicknell informed them it was a brigantine and, to judge by the armament, had once been a privateer. Eliza shivered. Many a privateer crew had turned to piracy after the war ended four years ago.

Though the prospect of danger frightened her, she couldn't help but feel it had exciting possibilities. So far, her life had consisted of pleasant domesticity, followed by four years of drudgery after the death of her father. A naval officer, he had lived a life of excitement and danger. Perhaps she was her father's daughter after all.

As she stared at the ship, a billow of smoke plumed from its side, followed by the roar of a cannon. When the smoke cleared, the Union Jack had disappeared. In its place was a black flag sporting a grinning death head. "Look, captain, ‘tis the Jolly Roger."

Captain Bicknell cursed. "That was a scurvy trick."

Mary Ann cried out, "What will happen to us?"

"I don't know, miss."

"Oh, I wish we'd stayed in England."

"So do I," Eliza said fervently.

Uncle Ralph nervously loaded his pistol and ranted about how he'd show those brigands a thing or two.

Another cannon shot boomed out. The ship lurched and they heard the sound of wood scraping along the side.

Then a voice cried, "Heave to and prepare to be boarded!"

Captain Bicknell gave the order to lower the sails and drop anchor. When Uncle Ralph protested, he said shortly, "I'll not risk losing my ship as well as the cargo."

Her relatives huddled together, Uncle Ralph with his pistol in his trembling hand. But Eliza stood alone. Part of her was terrified, but some primal need deep inside drew her to the drama.

She could see the ship's figurehead now–a large black hawk. A chill skittered down her spine at the sight. The ship was a predator, and so were the men on board. A strange, cold excitement filled her whole being.

The ships were close enough now for the pirates to throw grappling hooks to pull them together. The pirates swarmed onto the Bristol Maid, rough-looking seamen brandishing cutlasses and pistols.

But Eliza had eyes for only one man, obviously their leader.

He wasn't the man of her dreams; he couldn't be. But so close was he to that phantom, she could but stare. He had to be several inches over six feet in height, with broad shoulders and muscular legs. He was, without a doubt, the largest, most virile man she'd ever seen, and one of the most exotic. His long, brown hair was tied back in a queue and a single gold earring dangled from one earlobe.

He wore black trousers and an open waistcoat over a white shirt without a cravat, leaving his strong brown neck and a glimpse of manly chest visible to her eyes. A gold coin hung from a cord around his neck. A red sash to match his bandana and a sword belt encircled his waist. A cutlass swung from the belt and a pistol was tucked into his waistband. His breeches fit snugly over long, muscular legs. Oh, he was a fine figure of a man. She let her gaze rest on his groin. He appeared to be well-endowed in that area as well.

"Like what you see, miss?"

She started and glanced up into amused eyes as blue as the ocean and felt her face heat up. How could she be attracted to a pirate? It was insane. But there was something about this daring, handsome stranger that drew her like a moth to a candle flame.

He sketched her a mocking bow. "Lieutenant Morgan Price at your service."

Her heart raced as his eyes raked over her figure, lingering on her bosom. What would it be like to feel his firm lips on her mouth, his strong hands caress her flesh?

© 2005 by Lyndi Lamont

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Click here to buy a copy.

Click here to return to previous page.