The Pirate

captor. Had his eyes been closed, he would have thought the voice belonged to a woman, full-grown. His gaze drifted down along the boy's slender body. Griffin groaned inwardly as he took in the tiny breasts, the narrow waist and the gentle swell of her hips.

'Damnation!' he muttered. He wished he had his fingers loose to rub away the ache in his temples. 'I've been rendered helpless by a mere slip of a woman.'

'Answer me!' she demanded. 'Who are you?'

'Griffin Rourke,' he muttered. 'And who might you be, lass? Or is it, lad? Damn me, for I cannot settle on which it really is.'

'Where are you from?'

'From?' Griffin snapped, glancing over at her. 'You want to know where was I born?'

She nodded.

'I was born in the colony of Virginia on the James,' he said tightly. 'In my father's home in the room at the back of the house.'

She glared at him. 'You British still haven't gotten over the revolution, have you? Virginia is a state, not a colony. And you expect me to believe that you were born at home?'

'Where else?' Griffin asked. 'Now, you must answer my questions. What is your name?'

'Meredith,' she said. 'Meredith Abbott.'

He laughed harshly. 'Then you are a boy.'

'No!' she cried as if the observation caused insult.

'Yet, you carry a boy's name.'

'Meredith is a girl's name, as well, and it has been for quite some time.'

'What about your hair and clothing? Who allows you to dress like a lad?'

She seemed quite taken aback by his comments. 'For your information, short hair is considered quite chic, and jeans are not the exclusive uniform for men. Just what planet have you been living on?'

'Planet? I do not understand,' Griffin said. 'How can I live on another planet? And what would you know of the planets? I have not met a woman yet who possesses a mind which can comprehend the complexities of Copernicus or Brahe or Kesler.'

'Well, at least you don't think you're an alien life-form,' Meredith said. 'I guess we should be thankful for that. But you are the worst sort of male chauvinist, which isn't good. Why are you dressed like a pirate?'

'Damn it, girl, I'm done with this inquisition. Untie me!'

'No!' she retorted.

Griffin closed his eyes. 'Then tell me where I am. And tell me when you plan to release me.'

'You washed up on my beach during the storm and I dragged you into my cottage. You almost drowned, and would have if I hadn't saved you.'

'You saved me?' he asked.

She nodded.

'Where? Where is this cottage you speak of?'

'On Loop Road on Ocracoke Island,' she said.

'Occracock?' he asked. 'I'm on Occracock? But I cannot be. There are no houses on Occracock.'

'It's called Ocracoke,' Meredith corrected. 'And of course there are houses on the island. There's a whole village. There's been a village here for over two hundred years.'

Griffin stared at her. She was mad, or bosky, or both. That was the only explanation for her holding him here. Or perhaps hewas the one who had lost his mind. Who knows how long he had been tied up? He could have been unconscious for days.

'What is the date?' he asked.

She frowned. 'September twenty-second.'

He closed his eyes, relieved. He wasn't mad. The date wasSeptember twenty- second.

'Nineteen ninety-six,' she added.

His eyes snapped open. 'Nineteen ninety-six what?'

'That's the year,' she said.

'You are mad,' he murmured. 'Untie me now, or I swear on my father's grave, I will kill you.'

2

Meredith tipped her chin up defiantly, trying hard to maintain her composure over his blatant threat. 'You're in no position to be threatening me,' she said. 'As soon as the storm breaks, I'm going to get the sheriff and he'll throw you in jail.'

Griffin cursed and strained against the ropes. To Meredith's relief, the bonds showed no signs of weakening. All those childhood knot-tying lessons on her father's shrimp boat had finally proven useful.

When his tantrum seemed to have run its course, she walked over to the couch and looked down at him. 'You're the one who put yourself in this mess, getting drunk, going out in the middle of a hurricane. Threatening to kill me isn't making matters better.'

He ground his teeth. 'I would not kill you,' he said. 'I am not a man who would harm a woman, even if she be a lunatic harpy. And I am not drunk, I'll have you know. It takes more than a finger of rum to put me in my cups.'

'Then whatever possessed you to go out in the midst of a hurricane?'

'I did not,' Griffin replied. 'The sky was clear when I went overboard.' He swore softly and frowned. 'Yet I cannot perceive of how I came to be in the water.'

'You mean to tell me, you fell off a boat?' Meredith asked. 'Where?'

'We were sailing into Bath Town, ready to drop anchor in Old Town Creek. That is why you must untie me, lass. I have to deliver the purse before it is found missing.'

She shook her head. Obviously the knock on his noggin had jostled his brain. Bath was over sixty miles away, on Bath Creek, not Old Town Creek, its name in colonial times. To end up on her beach, he would have had to float down Bath Creek into the Pamlico River and across Pamlico Sound, over sixty miles in the midst of a hurricane. Without a life jacket, he wouldn't have had a chance. Maybe it would be best to act as if she believed him. At least she might get more information to give the sheriff. 'What purse?'

'It is tucked inside my waistcoat.' He glanced down at his attire. 'Where is my waistcoat?' he asked, his voice suddenly desperate.

Meredith stepped around the couch and fetched his vest, the odd garment she had tugged off his body before she hoisted him onto the couch. 'There is no purse in here. You must have lost it when you went overboard. If you fell overboard, which I sincerely doubt you did.'

'That cannot be so,' he said. 'I must find it.' He strained against the ropes then cursed. 'You must find it. For if he discovers it missing, he will not rest until he learns who has taken it. If he finds me missing, he will know.'

Meredith shook her head. 'I am not going back out in that storm. Besides, you could have dropped it anywhere. It could be floating in the Sound.'

He stared at her, his blue gaze probing hers. 'Take my hand,' he said softly.

'No!'

'Take my hand,' he repeated.

His deep voice was smooth and seductively persuasive. She watched him, wary of his motives, reluctant to touch him again. But his arms were pinned firmly to his sides by the ropes. Hesitantly, she did as she was told. His fingers were warm and strong and she felt an unbidden current of attraction as he squeezed her hand.

How long had it been since she'd been touched by a man? She tried to recall as his thumb softly stroked the back of her hand. But all her memories faded in the face of this man, this pirate. He possessed an incredible magnetism, a raw energy and power that could muddle her mind and drive her good sense right out the window.