Page 9 of Marooned

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He narrowed his eyes against the pelting rain when they finally reached the deck.

“It’s raining sideways,” Heidi shouted.

His throat tightened when he looked to shore. He could barely make out his men scrambling to move further inland, the rowboats upended on the sand. Palm fronds danced in the wind like demented spirits, the normally tall trunks bent double. The beach wasn’t far away, but it might as well have been a thousand miles. He admitted reluctantly one man couldn’t row the remaining dingy through the angry surf to safety. “We’ll have to ride it out on the ship,” he yelled, racked by guilt at the abject terror on her face. If he’d paid more attention to the signs of a gathering storm, they wouldn’t be in this predicament. Perhaps it was God’s will he go down with his ship, but Heidi...

Teeth chattering, she turned to go back below.

He drew her against him and wedged their bodies in the doorframe. “On the deck. We could be trapped if she goes down.”

“Down?” she parroted. “You mean we might sink?”

The irony struck him full force. They’d planned to scuttle the ship anyway.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She apparently saw the humor too.

“If I’d known we were in for a hurricane…”

The smile fled. “Hurricane?”

Hurricane

Ahurricane had struck Sankt Thomas two years before Heidi’s arrival, but the widespread devastation was still evident. Many families had lost loved ones.

She was already soaked, the linen nightgown clinging to her skin. Only the strength of the pirate’s arms wrapped around her kept her from shrieking like a harridan. His long hair was plastered to his head, water ran down his face, yet there was a steely resolve in his eyes that gave her courage.

His lips were moving, but the wind stole away whatever he was saying. When she shook her head, he took her hand. She had no choice but to follow when he ran for the mast. She lost one waterlogged shoe on the way.

An involuntary grunt escaped when he shoved her against the mast. “Put your arms around it,” he shouted, holding her in place with his body as he reached for a rope hanging off the mast.

Within minutes they were securely lashed together, one body defying the wrath of the elements.

Teeth chattering, she closed her eyes and prayed, strangely consoled by the notion she would face death in the strong arms of a good man.

* * *

Maximiliano had lost his faith in a benevolent God many years ago, but as theJuanapitched and tossed, he prayed that her anchor would hold. If not, they’d be swept onto the rocks and dashed to pieces.

An overwhelming compulsion to express his sincere regrets to the Danish woman pressed like a vise on his temples, but there was no chance she’d hear anything he said in the deafening gale. He tightened his grip and nestled his chin atop her head, hoping she understood he’d do all he could to protect her.

He’d lived through hurricanes. Along with Spain’s dwindling influence in the Caribbean, they were the main reason for the impoverished state of his island home—crops destroyed, houses and farms obliterated, families torn apart. If Heidi had experienced a hurricane’s fury, she knew only too well the danger they faced. The storms were terrifying enough when a person was in a safe, protected place. In all his years of sailing the Spanish Main he’d been lucky enough not to be caught out at sea. There were always signs, and he’d ignored them, too busy fantasizing about bedding the voluptuous woman whose life he’d put in harm’s way.

An eternity later, exhaustion carried him into a silent world where he was merely an onlooker to the groaning ship’s death throes. Heidi had thankfully lost consciousness. He kissed her neck as he drifted into a reluctant acceptance that there was little hope of survival. When the anchor chain finally snapped, theJuanashuddered before flying into the towering waves like a uncaged bird. Just before he surrendered to the storm an errant thought caused him to smile. What better way to die than with a beautiful woman in his arms?

The Wreck

After spending nightmarish hours trapped in a spinning waterwheel from which there seemed to be no escape, Heidi blinked open her eyes and tried unsuccessfully to spit out sand. The incessant howling had ceased, but she lay sprawled on a wooden pole, unable to move. Someone had fallen on her.

A memory of being trapped beneath the American’s dead weight caused her throat to tighten, but then the person on top of her spoke softly. “Keep still for a while longer,querida. I’m going to cut the rope, if I can get at my dagger.”

The terrifying hours before she’d passed out came back in a rush. The screeching wind, the torrential rain, the towering waves, the dreadful certainty she was going to die. Her panic eased. Wherever she was, she wasn’t alone. The pirate had also survived. But she remembered being lashed to an upright mast. Their pole tilted at an odd angle.

An insane urge to giggle bubbled up.

But then Maximiliano moved. His thighs pressed against hers as he struggled to get his dagger out of its scabbard. Then she felt the unmistakable hardening of his male member against her bottom.

He stilled. “Perdóname,” he whispered. “My cock has a mind of its own.Forgive me.”

The situation was nigh on comical. She was soaking wet, clad in a bedraggled nightgown, tied to a beam and helpless, yet she felt no fear of the aroused male straining atop her.


Tags: Anna Markland Historical