The Pirate

'No. She's a physicist. She studies electrons and gravity and about a million other things I really don't understand. If she doesn't know about time-travel theory, she will know where to send us.'

'Then we must leave today,' Griffin said, trying to control his excitement. 'Will we travel by water or by land? Is the college still in the same place as it was in my time? If it is, I vow it would be faster to travel by water. If the wind is with us, it will take us less than a week's time.'

'The college is still in Williamsburg. But we don't have to go there. We can just call her…on the telephone.' Merrie sighed. 'Why don't we have lunch and I'll explain the telephone over toasted cheese sandwiches. After that, I want to go downtown and pick up some clothes for you. If you expect to walk around the island during the day, it would be best if you fit in.'

'So there is something wrong with my clothes?' he asked. 'They are serviceable garments.'

'They're just not quite the rage in this day and age,' she said.

'I will not wear a dress,' Griffin countered. 'I am not that… loose.'

Merrie giggled, a warm, musical sound that filled his senses. 'Relax. Men in the twentieth century aren't expected to wear ladies' dresses. They just can if they want to.'

'Well, I do not want to,' Griffin said firmly.

She grinned, her smile teasing and sweet. 'I never had any doubt about that, Griffin Rourke.'

3

'I cannot wear these garments! I will look the fool!'

Meredith stood outside the bathroom door, her shoulder braced on the wall. 'The clothes are fine, Griffin. You can't walk around in that pirate outfit. People will stare. Now get dressed, we're in a hurry.'

The door flew open and Griffin stood in front of her, dressed only in a pair of boxer shorts. 'They will stare if I wear this. I would not show my knees in public!'

A laugh escaped Meredith's throat. She pressed her fingers to her lips. Finding underwear for Griffin had been the most difficult of her shopping tasks on the island. Most people shopped on the mainland or at the mall in Nags Head for their essentials. But barring a long shopping trip, she'd been forced to settle for the silk boxers she'd found at a local souvenir shop. The fabric was decorated with little buccaneer's heads, each one complete with eye patch, tricorn and dagger clenched between teeth.

Her gaze wandered the length of his body and she felt a delicious shiver skitter up her spine. Griffin had an incredible physique, a body any woman would find attractive. His legs were long and muscular, and the boxer shorts only seemed to enhance his flat belly and narrow waist. His broad chest was tanned golden brown, and for an instant she could imagine him on the deck of a ship, the sun beating down on his skin, the salt breeze whipping his dark hair around his face.

For a moment, she was tempted to tell him that if he expected to live in the twentieth century, he would have to wear boxer shorts twenty-four hours a day. But he seemed so upset by the prospect that she reluctantly decided to tell him the truth.

'You're wearing underwear,' Meredith explained. 'I bought you several pairs of pants. You put those on overthe underwear.'

Frowning, Griffin stepped back into the bathroom and emerged a few minutes later with a pair of khaki cotton pants he'd pulled from a bag. He held them up against his waist and examined them, then tugged them on in front of her as if dressing in front of a female caused him no embarrassment at all.

'Feel better?' she asked.

'I feel warmer, at least,' he said. 'What is this?' He stared down at the zipper in confusion. 'There are no buttons here.'

'That's a zipper,' Meredith said. 'Just tug up on that little tab.'

He fumbled with the zipper. 'I cannot. You do this for me.' He braced his hands on his hips and waited.

Meredith's eyes widened. 'You can do it,' she urged, twisting her fingers in front of her and giving him an encouraging smile.

'I cannot,' he repeated in frustration. 'Show me.'

With shaking hands, Meredith hesitantly reached out and plucked at the tab of the zipper. If she knew how to swoon, she would have done it then and there. But she'd never fainted in her life. Biting at her bottom lip, she slowly closed the zipper, trying not to think about what was on the other side.

He watched her in amazement. 'How does this work?'

She snatched her hands away. 'Little teeth,' she muttered. 'Now put your shirt on so we can go. I've got the computer reserved at the library. I want to hop on the Net and see what I can find out about time travel.'

He stared at her for a long moment, then shrugged and returned to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, she and Griffin were headed down Lighthouse Road to the tiny island library behind the fire hall. Though his presence at her side caused a few curious stares from the locals, no one was nosy enough to ask what their relationship was. And she didn't volunteer any information, except that he was a friend who had come for a short visit. Tourists were not uncommon on Ocracoke, even in the fall, and most of the townsfolk appeared to accept him with little notice.

As they walked, he asked questions about everything and anything-about the quaint lighthouse that stood sentinel over the Sound and the picturesque cottages and shops that dotted the narrow streets. They took the long loop to the library, along the waterfront and then down the narrow street that led to the tiny cemetery that held the bodies of four British sailors. The sailors' ship had been torpedoed offshore by a German U-boat during the Second World War. Griffin wasn't satisfied until she recited everything she knew about the country's involvement in the war and the current state of the U.S. Navy.

'Why are we going to the library?' he asked.

'I told you. I want to get on the Net and see what I can learn about time travel. My laptop doesn't have a modem so we have to use the computer at the library.'

'The Net,' he repeated.

'Internet,' she explained. 'It's a computer network.'

'Computer,' he repeated.

'You'll see,' she said, patting him on the shoulder. Meredith stepped to the edge of the road, ready to cross, when Griffin grabbed her arm.

'Have a care,' he warned, staring at a car nearly a block away. She had noticed that he'd become watchful, wary, as if he wasn't quite sure about the intentions of the automobiles or their drivers. He slipped his arm protectively around her waist and a flood of warmth rushed through her at his touch.

She knew she was growing fond of him. He was a strong and vital man with a powerful sensual appeal. She had to keep from watching him, admiring the way he moved, the way his skin gleamed in the sun, the way he stared out at the water with pale hooded eyes. And every time he touched her, her heart quickened and her breathing stopped.

She'd never felt so comfortable around a man as she felt with Griffin. He seemed to accept her for exactly who she was. All her insecurities and inexperience with men didn't seem to matter. In fact, he considered her a fallen woman simply for allowing him to stay in her house.

But then, maybe she was a fallen woman, at least by his standards. She had gone to bed with five different men in her life, fully intending to lose her virginity, right up until the very moment of truth. But then, the whole thing had seemed wrong and she had put an end to it, leaving her partners confused and sometimes even angry.

When it came right down to it, only one thing kept her from ridding herself of her virtue. She wasn't in love. And something deep inside her soul told her to wait-for a man to whom she might give her heart as well as her body. So she'd waited. And she was still waiting…

Meredith stepped inside the library with Griffin at her heels. She smiled at the volunteer librarian, Tank Muldoon's sister, Trina, then headed for the computer in the corner. Griffin lingered for a long moment as he passed the shelves of books.

'Whose books are these?' he asked.