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Shaking her head at her foolishness, she laughed. “Well, if ifs and buts were candy and nuts, then we’d all have a Merry Christmas.”
The little bell above the door chimed. Her cheeks warming at being caught in the midst of her indecent thoughts, Serenity straightened up in her chair.
“Did you forget some…” Her voice trailed off as she looked up and saw the black-garbed mountain entering her office.
The man had his head bent to shield his face from the storm. With water dripping, he swept into the office and in one graceful movement, removed his hat from his head and threw back a corner of his black cape.
By heaven!
He was certainly not her father!
Nay, this man was her dream pirate come to life. A man of unspeakable handsomeness. A man of broad, corded muscles that rippled beneath the damp cream waistcoat and white shirt.
His stock had come untied and dangled loosely about his wet shirt front, exposing a sleek neck. A sensuous neck that appealed to a part of her she’d never before met. A part of her that wanted to run her fingers over his exposed flesh to see what it felt like.
By heaven!her mind repeated.
Hair as black as pitch was pulled back into a queue. And he possessed a face that was neither pretty nor fair, but one that was decidedly masculine.
Granite. That was the only word for his sharp, aristocratic features. Aye, they looked as if they’d been carved especially for him, and right now those features were rigidly stern, his dark eyes terrifying in their heated intensity.
Obviously unaware of his disheveled condition, he had the look of a man who had ridden hard and with a purpose.
Shaking the water from his hat, he stepped forward.
Serenity finally gathered enough wit to close her gaping mouth and swallow hard. “May I help you?” she asked, her voice trembling at the incredibly fierce sight he posed.
“Aye,” he said, his stare intensifying. “I’m looking for a Mr. S. S. James.”
The butterflies in her stomach multiplied. Whatever couldhewant withher?
Well, she certainly knew what she would want him to want with her. Even with her eyes wide open, she could imagine him leaning close to her, feel his breath prickling her neck as he whispered poetry in her ear…
Get a hold of yourself!
Blinking to banish the image, she forced herself to remain as calm as was possible when one confronted a come-to-life dream. “That would be me. Serenity James. How may I help you?”
Surprise flickered in the magnificent hazel depths of his eyes a moment before they hardened. Serenity had the impression that it wasn’t often something took this man by surprise. And that thought gave her an unexpected feeling of delight.
He dropped a portion of theSavannah Dispatchdown on her desk. “Then tell me of this story you wrote.”
She glanced down at the scrap piece of paper and realized it was the past month’s edition where she had published the Sea Wolf article without her father’s approval.
Heaven above, would this piece ever cease haunting her? Her father had only stopped railing over it yesterday! Even the reserved Douglas had had a few choice things to say about it. Now this man wanted to start where they’d left off.
What was it about that one article that made every man want to strangle her?
Greatly miffed, she returned his stare evenly. “What do you wish to know of it?”
“I want to know everything you know about the Sea Wolf and his shipTriton’s Revenge.”
In spite of her anger, her lips curled into a smile as she recalled the romantic buccaneer who preyed solely on British ships.
“Oh, isn’t it the most incredible story you’ve ever heard?”
He arched a brow.
Though her common sense told her to stop, as usual when she talked about one of her stories, she couldn’t keep her tongue still. Especially not about this particular story of a true American hero whom she worshiped.
