Miss Minerva's Pirate Mishap Maggie Dallen (top books of all time .txt) 📖

“I know I can. She’s suspicious of me, which only means she’s smart. She’s protective of her family and the members of this town, which means she’s loyal—”

“And you learned all of that from your one night with her, eh?”

Marcus turned back to his friend with an arched brow. “Don’t make it sound so sordid. It wasn’t like that.”

Caleb’s lips twitched with amusement, the closest this man ever came to an actual grin. “What was it like then?”

Marcus turned back to look out at the beach as he thought that over. How would he describe his first run-in with the enchanting Minerva? Exciting? That didn’t seem like the right word. But it was the truth. Meeting Minerva in the cave the other night had reminded him of how he used to feel when he’d first left home. The way it had felt when he’d set out on a grand adventure.

He hadn’t experienced that unique sensation in quite some time. It was more than excitement; it was anticipation. It was opportunity. It was the siren call of an unpredictable future.

He rubbed a hand over his chest where the feeling seemed to stem from. Funny that after so many years without that feeling, he’d discovered it here. In a small town in his home country...with her.

Caleb sighed and shifted behind him. “Give it up, mate. She’s not coming.”

“She’ll be here.” He said it with all the certainty that he felt. “I’m telling you, she doesn’t scare easily.”

“But perhaps she’s come to her senses.”

“Maybe,” he agreed. It was a risk to her person and her reputation to come out here and meet him alone like he’d asked. “But I’d bet that her curiosity outweighs good sense.”

Even before he finished saying it, he caught sight of her. Or, more like, he caught sight of her cloak billowing in the wind. He found himself grinning like a fool as he watched her step lightly over rocks and seaweed. This time, she’d worn boots instead of slippers, but she still looked like a little waif, ready to be swept away by a strong wind or a rising tide.

A sea nymph who’d disappear with the mist when he woke from this daydream.

He blinked. She didn’t disappear.

But she would when he inevitably set sail again. Hopefully soon. Perhaps as soon as the following night if his plan was a success.

The thought was sobering.

He was only vaguely aware of Caleb’s muttered excuses about checking in with the other crewmembers to make sure they were ready to set sail the following night, if all went well. His friend slipped from their hiding spot and along the shore.

“You came,” Marcus said when Minerva reached the cave’s mouth and pushed back her hood. He was oddly delighted to see that some curls had escaped her braided crown. He liked her best like this. When she looked windblown and just a little wild.

“Did you doubt that I would?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Not for a second.”

She smiled, and the sight struck him like a blow. She was pleased by his answer, and for some reason, that pleased him.

“So,” she said, her gaze moving toward the crates and trunks still on the floor of the cave. “These are still here, hmm?”

“All part of my plan,” he said, throwing his hands out wide.

She gave him a funny look. “I thought my father had men guarding this treasure around the clock.”

“He did,” Marcus agreed. “Er, he does.”

She looked around pointedly.

Marcus gave her an unapologetic grin. “I may have told the gentlemen that my friend and I had been sent by your father to relieve them. Which”—he shrugged—“is not a complete lie.”

“Just a partial lie?”

“Exactly.” He clapped his hands together, temporarily sidetracked from his mission by the sight of her. “You’re here.”

Judging by her expression, she was unimpressed by his observation. “I am here.” She tilted her head to the side. “Are you going to tell me why?” She took a step closer and he felt it. Her excitement. Her energy. She might have been doing a decent job of pretending that she was unfazed, but he could practically feel her heart racing as if it were in his own chest.

“Well?” She arched a brow in challenge and his liking for her grew tenfold, if that were possible. “How do you suppose that I can help you, assuming I believe that your intent is to trap the thieves responsible for this.”

“So suspicious,” he murmured. And rightfully so.

She pursed her lips with a challenging stare.

“Fair enough.” He held his hands up. “You are right that I have not been entirely honest. But if you are truly a good judge of character, I trust that you will believe me when I say that I mean no one in this town any harm. And that I do fully intend to catch the smugglers behind this operation.”

Some of her defensiveness seemed to ebb in the face of his honesty. “And yet you need my help.”

“I do.” He crossed his arms as he considered just how much to tell her. “I am, indeed, a privateer, and I do wish to uphold the law by bringing those responsible to justice...”

“But?” she prompted.

“But I would rather not show my face at the ball tomorrow evening.” He glanced toward the shore where Caleb had disappeared. “And I think you’d agree that my first mate would arouse too much suspicion.”

She didn’t answer. Her gaze was so even, he felt as though she might be able to see right through him. Past the smile that his sister-in-law called ‘jolly,’ and straight through to the empty bits that he tried so hard to hide.

The parts where he kept memories of every tragedy he’d seen. Where he tucked away any feelings of discontent.

He tried not to shift under her unnerving stare, but it was difficult to remain still when he was nearly certain she was tearing through every layer of protection to get to his very heart.

He itched to laugh, to tease, to distract them both from whatever