Her Very Strict Captain Carpenter, Maggie (novels to read in english .txt) đź“–
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“Wake from a passing boat,” he replied, standing up and moving quickly to look out the window. “Yep, there’s a speedboat zipping around out there. We should get to the house.”
“You sound worried.”
“If Dan breaks into my office he’ll find a bill of sale for this yacht, and an invoice from the contractor who painted the name,” he declared. “I’m surprised he hasn’t already. Mind you, I have signs everywhere warning about alarms and security cameras.”
“This is such a nightmare,” she groaned. “I need to disappear. That’s the only way out.”
“Hey, I’m a pretty resourceful guy,” he said, lowering his voice and taking her hand. “You can tell me about the rest of this mess when we get to the house. We’ll figure it out together.”
“You may not like what I have to say.”
“You told me you didn’t kill anyone. Is that true?”
Fresh tears suddenly sprang from her eyes.
“Yes, but I abandoned someone when they were dying,” she whispered, her face crinkling.
“We need to go, but I will tell you this. If staying meant you’d die too, then you did the right thing.”
* * *
She wanted to believe him, but the tragic events of the disastrous raid had replayed itself in her head with harrowing regularity. Her dream about the sexy, strict Scottish captain had been mercifully distracting. Now she was with a modern day version of him, whose name just happened to be Captain Scott. The coincidence was titillating, and a welcome relief from the traumatic memory and perilous circumstances she faced.
Making their way to the beach in the small dinghy, he pulled it up on the sand and dragged it into some brush behind a group of impressive boulders. Standing at the water’s edge, she noticed dark gray clouds hovering low over the ocean.
“How long do you think it will take that storm to reach here?” she asked as he joined her.
“No more than an hour.”
“Aren’t you worried about Hi Ho Silver?”
“No, she’s well anchored, and I know this inlet. I come here often.”
“I like storms, but I don’t like the wind. We get the Santa Anas in Southern California. They’re horrendous.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, hoisting on his backpack and picking up her bag.
“I can take that,” she offered, reaching for it, “you shouldn’t carry everything.”
“This is nothing,” he said with a chuckle. “Come on, let’s go.”
The path through the tropical vegetation and up the hill was wide and well-traveled. Though the slope wasn’t steep, by the time he turned off the trail and started down a narrow track she was panting.
“Is it much further?” she asked, amazed he wasn’t even breathing hard.
“Just around this bend,” he replied. “It’s well hidden. No one will find you.”
“Maybe I could just stay here for the rest of my life. That would—oh, wow,” she exclaimed as the vast ocean suddenly appeared off to her right. “Scott, this is incredible.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. There’s the house.”
A white two-story home with a wide verandah sat amongst the tropical foliage, but the prodigious plant life had been cut in the front and around the sides to allow for unobstructed views. Walking up the steps, she was surprised to see a code box on the front door.
“No keys?”
“No keys,” he replied, punching in a series of numbers, “and it would take a battering ram to break down the door.”
Intrigued, and following him inside, she found a comfortable home at odds with the high-security entrance. Large windows offered panoramic views, and the furniture was cozy. When he led her into an expansive bedroom, she kicked off her walking shoes and collapsed on the bed.
“This place is a slice of heaven,” she declared with a grateful sigh. “I’ll never want to leave.”
“Catch your breath,” he said, placing her bag on the floor. “I’ll get us something to drink.”
“No, I’ll come with you, I want to see the rest of the house.”
Moving down the hall and poking her head around each of the doors, she found the home much larger than it appeared from the outside.
“Why so many bedrooms?”
“I have guests from time to time,” he replied vaguely as they entered a large gourmet kitchen.
“Holy crap. This is crazy. When you say guests, how many people are you talking about?”
“It depends, and it’s not often, but when it happens I need all this,” he said, opening a two-door, stainless steel refrigerator and pulling out a pitcher of lemonade. “Emily always leaves this for me when I call ahead.”
“I assume Emily is your housekeeper.”
“Yep,” he said, fetching two glasses from an overhead cabinet. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
“I think she’s also left you a letter,” Elizabeth remarked, spying a folded piece of paper on the counter with his name scrawled across it.
Pouring the refreshing drink, he handed Elizabeth a glass, then picked up the note.
“She just wants me to call her,” he said casually, then jerked his head toward the door. “Follow me. I need to show you something.”
Leading her down a second, short hallway, he stopped at a door with another keypad. Punching in the code, the door clicked open, and closed behind them as they entered.
Her eyes quickly scanned the room.
A wide desk held three large computers.
An impressive telescope positioned in front of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the ocean, and she spied a narrow patch of land between the house and what appeared to be the edge of the hill.
A conversation pit sat against the far wall.
Folding plantation doors could be hiding a closet, or an entrance to another room.
“One of those packets of money had a tracker,” he suddenly announced.
“What did you just say?” she asked, her heart skipping.
“Yeah, you heard right,” he replied, settling into the
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