Beyond the Tide Page 4

  “Thanks.” She sat on the bed and gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m trying.”

  He knelt in front of her. “Tell the camera why you’re so intent on getting above deck right now.”

  “There are pirates boarding the ship! I really wanted to see one. They are such a huge part of this era of travel. I hate being relegated to my cabin. I can’t blame the captain, though. This is exactly what a woman would have been told to do back then.”

  She surveyed the room. It was barren save a bunk, a small desk, and the trunk of her historical belongings. “There’s nowhere to hide down here. I’d have to hope the crew would be able to convince the pirates this ship is only carrying cargo. Otherwise, I’d be bracing for the worst.”

  “The worst?”

  She lifted a brow. “Women were given a loaded pistol to use on themselves, not the pirates.”

  She answered a few more questions even though he probably only asked them to keep her occupied and stop her from trying to sneak out again. The producers must really want her to stay in her room for some reason. She glanced at the ceiling as bumping sounded overhead. The pirates must be boarding now.

  Anticipation sent goosebumps down her arms, but she trained her gaze back on the camera. “A ship is much noisier at night than I expected it would be. You can hear the creaking of the wood and the ropes…”

  This was so boring! She gave up trying to pretend she could focus on anything other than what was happening on deck. “How long will the pirates be aboard ship? Ten minutes? An hour? Two hours? Am I going to be stuck down here the whole time?”

  Ted refused to respond. Someone pounded on the door. She hopped up from the bed. “Finally!”

  A deep voice yelled, “Open the door, or I’ll break it down.”

  She stilled. “What? You can’t be serious. That door is over two hundred years old!”

  “Open up!”

  She rushed over to the door, but Ted whispered. “Hold on.”

  She sent him an impatient look while he framed his shot. She yelled through the door. “Do you have any idea how much history is in this door? It’s more than a piece of wood, OK? The craftsmanship alone is irreplaceable.”

  A shallow nod from Ted had her unbarring the door. She jerked it open. Wow. So much naked.

  She closed her eyes at what seemed to be an overwhelming amount of bare skin. She lifted one eyelid to check. All right, it wasn’t that much skin. Only the man’s chest was bare. His brown breeches were tucked into tall black boots while a dark blue sash served as a belt around his hips.

  She jerked her gaze upward refusing to linger on the chiseled abs or the broad expanse of his shoulders. It settled on the gold hoop earring, which seemed like the safest place for it to stay. His head dipped enough to capture her gaze.

  His eyes were ocean blue. Arresting. Searching. Her lashes automatically lowered to guard hers. Yet, she couldn’t help glancing up to steal another quick look. He had dark blond hair and classically handsome features.

  She shouldn’t be noticing any of that. Focusing her attention on that ridiculous earring instead, she retreated behind a veil of professionalism. Her voice contained a wayward hint of irritation, “May I help you?”

  Good grief. She sounded like an annoyed teenager working in a shopping mall. Oddly enough, he took a nervous step back and followed suit. “Yeah, I’m looking for some treasure.”

  His response fit so perfectly with the shopping mall idea that a laugh slipped out before she could catch it. His eyes lit up. He flashed a grin, then tilted his head. “Do you have any?”

  Get it together, Ava.

  “No, I don’t think so.” She glanced around the room behind her. “I looked through my trunk this morning. There was nothing in it but clothes.”

  “Mind if I look around?”

  Shrugging, she stepped back and waved him inside. “You’re welcome to look, but I’m afraid there isn’t much to see.”

  “Thank you.” He brushed past her, took stock of the room and immediately began rummaging through her large trunk. She bit back a protest at the sight of him pawing through her historical dresses. What did she expect? He was a pirate after all.

  At least he was being gentlemanly about it. With his tall frame and broad shoulders, he could easily have pushed her out of his way to enter the room. She perched on the bunk, content to watch him realize his search was fruitless. Honestly, it was fascinating how much effort he put into playing his part. He almost had her convinced he was desperate to find something of value. She should probably remind him that he was wasting his time, but the sooner he gave up, the sooner he’d leave. Truth be told, that would be a real shame.

  He was the friendliest person she’d met in days. She’d been more than a little lonely with only Kathleen for company. What was Kathleen doing now, anyway? Was she locked in her room? Were pirates searching through her possessions too? Maybe they’d take the widow with them when they left.

  Her eyes widened. Not to be mean, but that would be wonderful. They could leave this guy instead. He certainly seemed like better company.

  What a spin that would be on the normal trope! She could see the headlines now. Governor’s spinster daughter takes pirate captive, forces him to be her friend…

  She bit her lip to keep from laughing. Honestly, it wasn’t a bad idea. All she had to do was bar the door. Of course, he could easily overpower her and escape—Lord, help her. She had gone insane.

  TV show or not, abducting anyone was out of the question. Besides, she knew nothing about this man’s character. Just because he was attractive, seemed to have a sense of humor, and was the most interesting thing to happen on this voyage…

  No. Taking a pirate captive was completely out of the realm of reasonable, let alone circumspect behavior—no matter how tempting it might be. And, boy, was it tempting.

  Chapter Four

  Ian could feel the woman’s gaze riveted to him. He tried to ignore it. He tried to ignore her, but she wasn’t the kind of woman a man could ignore. One look in her eyes, and he’d felt swept away to some place he had no business going. Then again, Emily had broken up with him. More than that, she’d thrown their friendship in his face with that bracelet. Whatever they’d had or hadn’t had was over. He was free to…

  He glanced over his shoulder. Everything about the woman screamed 1680-something. Her green dress bared her arms and much of her shoulders as it clung to her figure before flaring out dramatically at her hips. From beneath a fan of long, dark lashes, intelligent turquoise eyes stared back at him. They sparkled with a mixture of interest and curiosity that only served to heighten his own.

  His jaw tightened. Nope. Not a good idea.

  Neil had given him one last piece of advice after Ian had signed Living History’s contact. Stay focused.

  He was here to repair his image. That wouldn’t happen if he let himself get distracted by an actress he’d likely never see again after he finished this challenge. He returned his attention to his search.

  Unable to find anything in the chest, he moved to the desk. Drawer after drawer revealed nothing but paper and ink. This was taking too long. He turned to meet her gaze. “Where do you keep your jewelry?”

  “I don’t have any.” She rubbed one of her unadorned earlobes. “They didn’t even give me a pair of earrings, which I found odd. A woman of this era would have had jewelry of some kind.”

  He was suddenly conscious of the golden hoop adorning his own ear. The production team had given the men a choice of all kinds of pirate gear. He’d chosen the hoop as a joke. Little had he known how much a clip-on earring could hurt. He’d tried to take the stupid thing off. Production wouldn’t let him, citing the need for continuity. He’d have to ignore the pain until bedtime. After that, he’d never wear it again. “Lucky you.”

  Her gaze shifted to his earring while her full lips tilted in a smile. “Clip-on?”

  He nodded.

  “Thos
e can be brutal.” She leaned forward to brace her hands on the bunk’s footboard. A black slipper peeked from beneath her green skirt as she swung it back and forth. Her eyes narrowed in thought, which only emphasized the fan of her long, dark lashes. “Have you checked the Captain’s cabin?”

  He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “They wouldn’t let me in there. Apparently, your captain is a real captain.”

  She laughed softly. “What else would he be?”

  Rendered mute, he shrugged. She tilted her head, sending a dark curl dancing toward her nearly bare shoulder. “What about the… What’s it called? The hold.”

  “What I’m looking for isn’t in the hold.” If she didn’t have any treasure, why was she here? Maybe she was supposed to help guide him to the treasure. She certainly seemed eager to help. Then again, maybe she was here to distract him from his goal.

  “How can you be sure? Isn’t that usually where they store goods?”

  “It is, but the clue said it wasn’t there.”

  “The clue?” Her brow furrowed ever so slightly. She glanced toward the cameraman in innocent confusion. “Are you playing some kind of game?”

  Oh, she was good. He grinned. “A kind of a game, yes.”

  Now she looked troubled. Still, she smiled and lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Ok. Maybe I can help. What did the clue say?”

  “I’m not sure I can tell you. Then again, you aren’t part of the crew, so maybe I can?” He glanced toward the cameraman who had an earpiece connecting him to the production room. Ian received a thumb’s up, so he pulled the clue from his pocket. “It says the most desirable treasure doesn’t reside in the hold.”

  “Hmm.” She rustled over in her fancy skirts to read it for herself. “That’s an odd word to use, don’t you think? ‘Reside?’ I would have said the treasure doesn’t lie in the hold.”

  Only with her that close did he finally hear the familiar drawl in her voice. She was a Southerner too. Maybe even a Texan. “What’s the difference?”

  She glanced up to meet his gaze. “Reside denotes living. It could be you’re looking for a person.”

  “A person?” He stared down at the clue realizing she was right. This wasn’t a clue. It was a riddle. If she was right and the treasure he sought was a person, the clue meant that the most desirable person doesn’t live in the hold.

  “I bet you’re looking for someone you can press gang into the crew like a physician or a carpenter…” She kept talking, but Ian could only focus on one word of the clue.

  Desirable.

  He glanced down at the woman standing next to him. He was an idiot. “It’s you.”

  “What is?”

  “You’re the most desirable treasure.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened. A blush blossomed right below her high cheekbones. “Oh, but surely… That can’t be what the clue means.”

  “Pretty sure is it.” Time to turn on the charm and get her to the Intrepid. He held out his hand. “My name’s Ian.”

  She tentatively took his hand, then shook it firmly and met his gaze. “Ava.”

  “Ava, I could be misinterpreting this clue, but I’d appreciate it if you would go with me to check with my captain.”

  “I guess I could.”

  “Great.” He gently caught her arm and steered her toward the door. The challenge was only supposed to last for six minutes. How much time had he lost trying to figure out the clue?

  “This doesn’t make any sense, though,” Ava insisted as they rushed toward the ladder that led to the main deck. “I’m on a reenactment show. I don’t understand how whatever game you’re playing could have anything to do with me.”

  He spared her a quick glance as they stepped on deck. “A reenactment show?”

  “Yes, a historical reenactment… Woah!” She stopped in her tracks to take in the massive production comprising Living History: Pirate’s Plunder. Several of the contestants were carrying heavy crates across the deck onto the Intrepid. That was no small feat considering the gangplank was relatively small. Overhead, the drone hovered like a mosquito waiting to land.

  The crew of the merchantman had been tied up and made to sit alongside the railing on the starboard side. Cameramen and production crew members were sprinkled here and there, doing a delicate dance to keep out of each other’s way while trying to get their own shots. Smack dab in the middle of it all stood Captain Kittredge. He took one look at Ian and Ava, then bellowed, “All treasure must be placed on the Intrepid before the buzzer sounds. Three minutes left!”

  That answered Ian’s question without a doubt. Ava was the treasure he was supposed to find. She gasped. “Is that Logan Kittredge?”

  Kittredge must have heard her because he gave Ava a long once-over before flashing a grin and a wink. Yuck. Taking advantage of Ava’s distractedness, Ian scooped the woman into his arm and strode toward the Intrepid. Ava let out a startled gasp, then tried free herself from his arms. “Put me down. What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to my ship.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  He stopped at the gangplank to wait for Finn, another contestant, to cross onto the Intrepid with a crate of who knew what. “Hold tight and be still or we’ll both end up in the drink.”

  “The drink,” she repeated, then leaned away from him to glance over the side of the ship. It was a long way down to the ocean. He’d found the height exhilarating. Ava? Not so much. She mumbled, “Oh, my word.”

  Next thing he knew, she was clinging to him tighter than the clip-on earring and hiding her face in the curve of his neck. His breath hitched in his throat. “Ava, stop. You’re going to strangle me.”

  “Serves you right, you… pirate! I hate heights.”

  He winced as her nail dug into his shoulders. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

  “Put me down.”

  “No. Stop wriggling, or I’m going to drop you.”

  She froze. “I’m serious, Ian. I don’t do heights.”

  Automatically looking around for a camera, he shushed her. “Don’t say that too loudly. They’ll use it against you.”

  She lifted her head to look at him. “They?”

  “The producers.” His voice came out a kind of weird. All soft and weird. He wasn’t sure why, except he was holding a woman pretty enough to be on one of those pageants Emily’s mom used to watch. She looked kind of familiar too. Not in a ‘hey, I know we didn’t go to high school together, but I’m going to pretend we did because I’d like to hit on you’ kind of way, but in an ‘I’ve seen your face on a billboard’ kind of way. It was possible. Everyone on the Intrepid was at least half-way famous in one circle or another.

  “Move, Ian!”

  “Sorry.” Ian swung out of the way while Jeff Blake lumbered across the gang plank. The man had been projected to win Wimbledon last year until he’d driven under the influence and smashed his car into a wall. He’d walked away with a broken wrist. The injury might have healed, but his reputation hadn’t recovered yet. He needed a better attitude if he planned to rebuild a positive image.

  Ava’s arms loosened around Ian’s neck. “Please, let me down. Carrying me is too risky. I’ll walk across on my own. I promise.”

  He let her down mostly because he couldn’t see around her skirt to find the gangplank anyway. He left a steadying hand around her waist, though, and hurried her onto the deck of the Intrepid. Everyone else’s sections had crates and trunks on them. All he had was Ava.

  No one had said he couldn’t go down for more treasure after he’d secured the advantage, so he turned her around to face him and caught hold of her arms. “I’ll be right back, ok? Don’t move from this spot.”

  She stared back at him looking confused and troubled. Maybe even a little lost. He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “Stay here.”

  Rushing back to the merchantman, he made his way past the other contestants to the dark, dank hold. The cargo had been severe
ly picked over, but he managed to find a medium-sized chest that was hiding beneath a piece of canvas. Whatever it was, it would have to do.

  He stepped into the bright sunlight only to have Kittredge bellow at him again about needing to have everything squared away on his pallet. Ian knew that. Couldn’t the man see him rushing across the gangplank with the chest? Besides, there was still a minute left.

  He returned to his pallet to find it empty. Dropping the chest on his pallet, he searched the deck in vain for any sign of Ava. Brian brushed past whispering, “She went back to the other ship.”

  “Oh, man, come on.” Wasn’t she supposed to be afraid of heights? Ian darted across the gangplank and down the ladder to the cabin where he’d first found Ava. She stepped out the door as he reached it. “Ava, what are you doing? I asked you to stay put.”

  She hugged her satchel closer. “I needed this.”

  “Come on.” He reached for her arm.

  She shied away. “Go get my trunk.”

  “What? No. There’s no time.”

  “Ian!”

  “Ugh. Fine.” He lugged the heavy trunk out the door and found her still standing in the companionway. “Go!”

  She lifted her skirts and took off running—hopefully, to the Intrepid. With the trunk on his shoulder, he staggered up the ladder behind her. Kittredge called out, “Twenty seconds!”

  Ava stopped at the edge of the gangplank. She took a deep breath and visibly swallowed before walking across to the Intrepid. Ian was at her heels.

  “Ten seconds!”

  The countdown kept going. By the time it reached three, Ian let the trunk fall on the pallet next to where Ava stood. The buzzer sounded. The challenge was over. Ian let out a sigh of relief, though he wasn’t sure how justified it was. He had very little on his pallet compared to the other contestants and could only hope the time he’d spent with Ava would be worth it.

  He assumed the at ease stance as Kittredge swaggered back onto the Intrepid. “Congratulations, men. You have successfully completed the first challenge of Living History: Pirate’s Plunder.”