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CHAPTER 1

"A woman has no right traveling alone — least of all you," Sarah Moyer said and stared at her best friend, Felicia. "Understood."

"I'm telling you," Felicia said, "nothing good can come of this voyage. Stay here and ride out the storm. Your father will see you're not interested in Isaiah and he'll let you decide what you want to do."

Sarah shook her head. She knew this conversation all too well. She loved Felicia, but even her friend couldn't help her. Staying away from Norfolk, Virginia, for almost a year hadn't prevented the wrath of Nelson Moyer. No, the real estate magnate insisted his only daughter come home. She knew darn well what he wanted her to do once she reached Norfolk — find Isaiah Landry and get married. She clutched her pocketbook tighter. No. She didn't love Isaiah and refused to tie herself down to any man only interested in her father's money.

"Please stay. Southampton won't be the same without you." Felicia grabbed Sarah's hands. "Please?"

"I've got to appease him." Sarah gazed out at the deep blue ocean before her. In a few minutes, she'd be sailing and free from her cares for a few days. "Come with me. There are plenty of American men who would love an exotic British woman on their arm."

"You know better." Felicia blew a blonde curl from her forehead. "Your father wants you home in Norfolk. Mine wants me to be right here in Southampton." She let go of Sarah. "Then be safe. I'll write you and try to come visit before autumn."

"Do." Sarah kissed her best friend on the cheek then waved.

England hadn't been the second home she'd been looking for. Nowhere seemed to be home. Over Felicia's shoulder, Sarah noticed a man weaving through the crowd. Unlike the other passengers, he didn't appear to be making his way to the main gangplank. He surveyed the passengers then hurried to the far end of the dock. She leaned over the railing to see where he'd gone. Drat. She waved at Felicia once more then made her way onto the small ship.

In typical Moyer fashion, her father had sent a massive yacht to bring her and a few of his friends back to America from England. She stood at the railing of The Lady Moyer and waved to the people on the dock. Once again she spotted the dark-haired man from the throng of people. This time, he seemed to be looking right at her. A shiver skated up her spine. He gazed at her like she was a piece of meat, not a lady. She should avert her gaze, but no matter how hard she tried, she continued to watch him.

"Come along to the cabin, Miss Moyer." Frederick Rourke, her father's right-hand man, touched her elbow. "It'll be cold soon."

She suppressed the urge to snort. She doubted he cared about the weather. Frederick wanted to make sure she finally went home. He probably had a fat finder's fee waiting on him at port. She sighed and allowed him to escort her to the luxury cabins on the second level of the ship.

"Your father is quite excited about your arrival." Frederick placed her bag on the armchair. "He's been making plans for a month."

"Oh has he?" She rolled her eyes. "Father doesn't want me home just to see me. He wants to marry me off. Give a nice boy the deed to the house and the money. I can handle myself." She untied the lace beneath her chin and removed her hat. "I'm shocked he didn't try to convince you to marry me."

"He did, Sarah. I refused." Frederick's ears turned bright red. He tugged at his collar. "I told him I didn't fancy you."

"Oh?" What a relief, she thought. "The rumors must be true. You and Delia are having a fling."

Sarah giggled. The very idea of Frederick and Delia having an affair wasn't bad. They made a handsome couple. But if Nelson found out, he'd fire Frederick for playing with the staff.

"You won't tell. Not yet. I'm saving up enough to open my own office. I want to take care of Delia." He gripped his hat in both hands. "You do understand, don't you?"

"I do." She flicked her fingers. "Go on, now. I should dress for supper." She waited until her handler had left the room. When the door closed, she plopped down onto the fainting couch. She might as well be a prisoner. Her father wasn't going to let her slip through his grasp any longer. She crinkled her nose and tossed the hat across the room.

"Ladies don't get upset," she said to herself, mimicking her father. "Ladies agree to what the man of the house decrees. She never fusses or fights. She bows to his will and sees to his delights." She bit back bile on her tongue. Just the thought of giving Isaiah delights churned her stomach.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the grand mirror over the fireplace. Her time on the beach walking with Felicia had left a healthy glow on her skin. She smiled and admired the rosy color. She rather liked the darker look. So much better than the milky paleness she normally sported. She drummed her fingers on the mantelpiece. Frederick hadn't said anything about not walking the decks. Besides, she could hold her new knowledge over his head. She wouldn't — but she could. She grabbed her long coat from the hook then headed out of her cabin.

The chilly evening air curled around her, and she breathed in the salty sea breeze. Maybe Felicia was right. She wasn't born to stay in one place, but rather to see the world and explore.

* * *

The first three days of the voyage had flown by without problem. The crew ignored her, save for meal time and Frederick kept his distance. Sarah stared out of her window. Boredom hit hard. She wanted to be free of the life her father insisted she needed. She couldn't get out of seeing Isaiah — not yet — but she could explore the boat. Frederick said something about pirates infesting the water. She snorted at his assumption. Pirates weren't lurking. They'd gone out of fashion many years ago.

Sarah crept out of her cabin, careful not to arouse Frederick's suspicion. She strode down the deck to the back but stopped short. A figure, clad in black, moved in the shadows. She inched up against the wall and waited for the person to pass her. She caught a whiff of men's cologne. The scent wasn't familiar. Where was the person, who didn't want people to know their identity, going? Her heart raced. Felicia? Had she stowed away in order to go to America?

Sarah crept along a few paces behind the dark individual. The person, a man, based on his height, stopped at one of the doors. He turned the knob and disappeared into the cabin.

"That's my room," Sarah shrieked. She bounded toward her cabin and yanked open the door. "What exactly do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

The figure turned around, and she gasped. The man from the dock.

He grinned and shrugged. "I believe this is called stealing, love." He grasped her jewelry box from the mantel and tucked it into his large coat.

"Not my things you won't." She surged at him and swung. Instead of connecting with his face, like she'd planned, she bounced her fist off his shoulder. Drat. Her defensive move hadn't stopped him.

Instead, he laughed, which infuriated her more.

"Put those down and leave my room. Who do you think you are? You're not entitled to my things."

"Darling, I don't want your jewelry." He placed the box back on the mantel. "I came here for something else. You."

Killian Thomas watched the minx squirm. He'd knocked her for a loop by admitting the truth. Her dark eyebrows knotted as she glared at him.

"Why would you be here for me?" She gripped the front of her coat. "I'm not anyone important."

"I suppose you're going to tell me I'm wasting my time." He captured her in his arms, pinning her between his body and the wall. "Sarah, love, I'm a pirate and I've come to collect my booty."

"Me?" she squeaked.

"There aren't any other eligible, beautiful women onboard." He shouldn't have let that slip — never tell the person you're kidnapping that you're attracted to them. He turned her around in his arms and clamped one hand over her mouth. "I bet your father would pay a hefty price to get you back, wouldn't he?"

She nodded and dug her teeth into his finger. Ah, the minx wants to play dirty. He hauled her tight to his body, pressing his growing erection into her backside. "This isn't the time for games. You and I are going to go outside where my ship is waiting. My men have overtaken the crew of this one. If you scream, I'll whip your ass. Understand me?"

She froze again but allowed him to move her forward. He hated to threaten her with something he'd never do — intentionally hurt a woman — but desperate times called for desperate measures. Killian slipped one arm around her waist, keeping her close.

"Say anything and I'll lock you in my quarters." Killian moved his hand but held her firmly in his grasp. He nodded to Andrews, his first mate. "We've got our cargo. Let's move."

Gunfire rang out around him as he muscled Sarah to the rope.

"Go," he snapped.

The wind whipped at her skirts while she fumbled down the rope to the smaller boat, but unlike most of his crew, she managed. She balled her fist when he reached the lifeboat and grabbed her.

"Hold still or I'll use manacles on you," Killian growled. He turned his attention to his cohort. "Go."

Andrews furiously rowed the lifeboat away from the massive yacht. He cackled a few times as they pulled away. Thankfully, Sarah stopped thrashing.

"You can't take her," one of the men screamed from the luxury ship. "Pirates!"

"What will you do about it?" Killian volleyed back. "You'll storm my ship? Not a chance. Andrews, full speed ahead." He thrust Sarah to the floor until they were out of range of the bullets.

Once they reached his stolen yacht, he snatched her from the soggy planks of the smaller boat. He didn't give her time to think while he dragged her to the backside of the ship. From the moment he'd spotted her on the docks a month before, he had known he needed Sarah. She made his heart sing in ways he had thought impossible.

"These are my quarters." He opened the door to his private rooms. "Wait here."

"I don't want to wait here," she protested.

Some of the pins had fallen from her hair and two dark chocolate-colored tendrils slipped over her shoulders. To other men, she might have looked disheveled. In his eyes, she embodied beauty, strength and fire.

"Very true, but your crew wishes me dead. I'd rather you lived as well."

"They wouldn't want me dead if you'd stayed on your boat and left me alone." She attempted to tuck her hair back into the messy bun.

"Love, I'm wanted in many places for many things. None of those heists mattered compared to having you." He grinned then tugged the door shut. "I'll come back for you once we're ten miles out."

Killian's heart raced. He'd done it. Sarah Moyer was in his quarters. Fuming mad but his. He righted his overcoat then headed back to the bridge. Time to survey the damage.

Andrews stormed toward him. "We've sustained some gunfire, but their cannons couldn't touch the Lady Meredith." His eyes widened and a smile brightened his haggard face. "You've got her. Now what are you going to do with her?"

Killian pressed his lips together. He knew who Andrews referred to. Sarah wasn't just any her. She wouldn't allow him to touch her like the prostitutes down at the wharfs. She deserved care and gentleness — both he knew little about.

"I'll have to allow her to cool down first. She's mighty upset with me." Killian took a deep breath. Was it possible he'd grown a conscience? Maybe.

"I'm sure you'll show her a good time." Andrews elbowed Killian. "I'll have the boys steady Lady Meri. You go back to your tart."

Killian gripped Andrews' shoulder. "Refer to her once more as a tart and I'll feed you to the sharks." He glared at Andrews. "She's a lady and will be treated as such."

"You've gone soft." Andrews shrugged. "Suit yourself. Ring up to the bridge if you need assistance." He winked. "If not, I'll come find you at sun up. Remember where you put your pants."

"Bastard." Killian sighed. He loved Andrews like a father and sometimes wanted to toss the old boy overboard. 'Remember where you put your pants.' The ass.

He turned on his heel and headed back to his quarters. If he were lucky, Sarah remained where he'd left her. Otherwise, she'd give him a run for his stolen money. He chuckled. He'd chase that shapely ass anywhere. His cock hardened beneath his breeches and his blood heated. The affections of a tart didn't compare to the sweet love of a lady. He wondered what she looked like without her dress. Would she be pink and blemish free, or have a bit of sun? He couldn't wait to discover all of his captive's secrets — one by one.

Sarah waited until his footsteps had faded. She allowed no man to take her captive — not even if his boat rivaled the one her father owned. The fool. She tried the door handle and when it turned, she snorted. Apparently he wasn't much of a pirate if he'd given her a way to escape. She glanced up and down the open corridor then hurried away from the cabin. There had to be a means to leave the boat — even a lifeboat would be better than a stolen luxury yacht.

Voices ahead made her pause. Was he coming back? She grabbed the handle of the nearest door and pushed. The door gave and she ducked into the room.

"Now isn't that a sight. I told Cap we needed a little entertainment on this boat."

Sarah faced the door and the deep male voice rooted her to the spot. She hesitated to turn around, in fear of who she might find. The stench of body odor and human waste curled around her. The outside of the boat might have looked fancy, but someone had managed to destroy the inside.

"Come on now, girl. Twirl around and let's have a look at ya," the man said. "Go on. Captain Killian pays well for his tarts. Show us what you've got."

Slowly, she turned and fixed her attention on the speaker. Three of the dirtiest men she'd ever seen stared back at her. One smiled, showing off his brown teeth. Her stomach lurched. She should've guessed her pirate would have a scurvy crew. The thought tripped her up. Her pirate? He wasn't hers. Right now she needed to get her thoughts away from him and focus on how to get out of the crew's room.

"Come here, girl." One of the men leaped from his seat. "Here's a nice girl. Come sit with me."

He grappled for her as she plastered herself tight to the door. The handle wouldn't budge.

"I need to go," she said and yanked on the handle. Maybe her father was right — she wasn't meant to roam free. Her inquisitive nature tended to get her into trouble.

The door finally moved.

Another voice added to the mix. "I'm looking for a girl." The pirate stepped into the room. When he spotted her, his sneer softened. "There you are. Thanks, boys, for keeping her safe."

"Anything for you, Cap." The man nodded and returned to his seat. "She got herself lost and we found her."

Sarah threw herself into the pirate's arms. "Thank you," she murmured. She shouldn't be grateful for the man who'd kidnapped then rescued her, but she appreciated him finding her. "Help me?"

The pirate led her from the room to the fresher air on the deck. He draped his arm around her waist. "I'm sorry you had to see that. The boys are a rowdy lot, but they're loyal." He escorted her down the corridor back to his cabin. "You deserve a proper introduction. I'm Killian Thomas, captain of this vessel. The Lady Meredith and I have sailed these seas for many years. The chap I stole her from probably wants her back. I don't care."

Sarah picked at the beading on her tea gown. Killian? According to rumor, he was one of the roughest men on the water. He killed whomever trod in his path and stole whatever wasn't nailed down. What on Earth did he want with her? Was she supposed to entertain the crew?

"I suppose you're going to handcuff me to the main support beam, aren't you? Allow the crew to molest the captive in order to get me to talk?" Dear God, her imagination had run away with her. She hoped she sounded stronger than she felt. "Or have you taken me for your own selfish pleasures."

Killian twisted the knob then ushered her inside his cabin. He didn't bother to engage the lock. Instead, he caged her between his body and the wall.

His dark eyes blazed. "I would never let the crew molest a lady."

She might not have believed him before, but now she did. If he truly wanted to harm her, he would've let her stay with the crew or at least have locked her up. He didn't appear to be the same man as described in the rumors. She rejoiced at her good fortune.

"Why have you taken me?" she asked.

She fought the bone-deep urge to slide her hands over his muscular chest. The shirt, unbuttoned a third of the way down, offered her a tantalizing glimpse of his tanned skin. Up close, she noticed the sapphire flecks in his blue eyes. She'd never seen eyes quite so dark and moody.

"I said you were beautiful." Killian let go of her and kicked the cabin door shut with his booted foot. "What's not to understand?"

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Excerpted from "Ruined by the Pirate"
by .
Copyright © 2014 Wendi Zwaduk.
Excerpted by permission of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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