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~3rd Book in the Pure Escapades series~
NOW AVAILABLE!
Looking out the foggy porthole to the city lights of Havana gleaming in the distance, Zaria frowned. Hadn’t Marcus said all the men were going to town? Folding her arms across her bosom, she held her head high. If Marcus was going to treat her so poorly, perhaps it was in her best interest just to leave the ship right now. That would show him!
Except he locked you in like a common prisoner, girl. Zaria strode to the door and turned the knob. As it released from its catch, her lips drew into a broad grin. In his haste, Marcus had forgotten to lock the door behind him.
Taking a deep breath, Zaria grabbed her carpet bag and packed her dresses and her book. Placing her tignon on her head, she rubbed the velvet patch for luck. She’d been cooped up on this wooden beast for far too long, and it was time for her to see the world.
Peering out the door at the empty hall, she tiptoed to the stairwell, slipping her shoes off so that she wouldn’t attract undue attention. Once at the top of the landing, she looked around before she silently stepped out into the night.
The boisterous caterwauling from nearby city piqued her interest. Why would she want to stay in that stuffy old cabin and miss this excitement? Elevated on a deck that overlooked the entire ship, Zaria spied an overturned rowboat near the captain’s wheel, she smiled. It was the perfect hiding place.
She padded toward the boat. With a gasp, she suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth, coming to a halt. A half-clad man stood at the rail with his legs thrown wide and his broad shoulders drawn up. Who was this man? Marcus had said this ship was empty.
Sitting on her haunches, Zaria ogled the handsome rogue, mesmerized by the sailor’s well-muscled backside. His muscular arms were physically sculpted to perfection from physical labor on a ship. Informally dressed in just his breeches, he exuded a commanding presence... as if he belonged nowhere but the deck of this ship.
Dieu, he was the most attractive man she’d ever seen. The wool hugged his rugged frame like a cinched saddle on a stallion, and Zaria exhaled as her gaze drifted to the spattering of hair that skimmed his bare feet. As a lantern blazed near his head, illuminating his profile, his strong jaw clenched around the hint of light stubble that covered his face. He swept a hand through his dark hair, wispy in the evening breeze, and Zaria flexed her fingers with a sigh. She had the sudden urge to feel the curls that touched his broad shoulders.
Pulling the light from the hook, the man turned around, his brows drawn down, and squinted in her direction. Zaria held her breath and cursed her carelessness. As he held the lantern higher, the flicker of the lamp’s flame accented his aquiline nose. Full lips led to a pucker at his chin, and for the first time in Zaria’s pragmatic life, she swooned.
Except he locked you in like a common prisoner, girl. Zaria strode to the door and turned the knob. As it released from its catch, her lips drew into a broad grin. In his haste, Marcus had forgotten to lock the door behind him.
Taking a deep breath, Zaria grabbed her carpet bag and packed her dresses and her book. Placing her tignon on her head, she rubbed the velvet patch for luck. She’d been cooped up on this wooden beast for far too long, and it was time for her to see the world.
Peering out the door at the empty hall, she tiptoed to the stairwell, slipping her shoes off so that she wouldn’t attract undue attention. Once at the top of the landing, she looked around before she silently stepped out into the night.
The boisterous caterwauling from nearby city piqued her interest. Why would she want to stay in that stuffy old cabin and miss this excitement? Elevated on a deck that overlooked the entire ship, Zaria spied an overturned rowboat near the captain’s wheel, she smiled. It was the perfect hiding place.
She padded toward the boat. With a gasp, she suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth, coming to a halt. A half-clad man stood at the rail with his legs thrown wide and his broad shoulders drawn up. Who was this man? Marcus had said this ship was empty.
Sitting on her haunches, Zaria ogled the handsome rogue, mesmerized by the sailor’s well-muscled backside. His muscular arms were physically sculpted to perfection from physical labor on a ship. Informally dressed in just his breeches, he exuded a commanding presence... as if he belonged nowhere but the deck of this ship.
Dieu, he was the most attractive man she’d ever seen. The wool hugged his rugged frame like a cinched saddle on a stallion, and Zaria exhaled as her gaze drifted to the spattering of hair that skimmed his bare feet. As a lantern blazed near his head, illuminating his profile, his strong jaw clenched around the hint of light stubble that covered his face. He swept a hand through his dark hair, wispy in the evening breeze, and Zaria flexed her fingers with a sigh. She had the sudden urge to feel the curls that touched his broad shoulders.
Pulling the light from the hook, the man turned around, his brows drawn down, and squinted in her direction. Zaria held her breath and cursed her carelessness. As he held the lantern higher, the flicker of the lamp’s flame accented his aquiline nose. Full lips led to a pucker at his chin, and for the first time in Zaria’s pragmatic life, she swooned.
