Free Pirate of My Heart: A Novel by Jamie Carie Page A

and turned them toward the bow. Determined to regain his legendary charm, he took a small breath and gave her the smile that usually had the fair sex looking at him with doe eyes. “My dear Lady Townsend, don’t think it, I beg you. As captain of this ship, I have duties—I am the eyes and ears at all times. But if you’ve missed me so much, I will try and prioritize my time better. You are my first passenger and I’m afraid I don’t quite know what to do with you.”
    Wrong thing to say. Very wrong.
    Kendra’s eyes flashed violet-hazed heat. “Oh dear,” she pursed her lips, “I had no idea I have been such a weight on your mind. Why, all I asked for was a little fresh air when the weather allows. I do apologize for my . . . neediness.”
    Dorian stopped them and gazed down into her rueful orbs. She dimpled at him. Where had those come from? He hadn’t realized when she smiled a particular kind of smile—more a smirk—that she had two adorable dimples on each cheek. Their effect on him ruined any verbal thrust he could come up with, instead causing him to stare at her lips. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t give to kiss those lips.

    Kendra took a step back and inhaled. The sun was glinting off the water and shining on his face. His eyes were smoldering as they locked with hers. She could hear her heart beat in her ears. Oh, dear. Lord, get me out of this or I’m going to let him kiss me right here in front of all and sundry. The prayer sounded funny, and she smiled, breaking the tension. “Captain, are you a believer?”
    Dorian’s gaze snapped awake. “Believer? Of what, my lady?”
    “Of the Christian faith, of course. I find prayer helps at times like these.” She raised her brows, hoping he knew to what she was referring.
    He seemed to take the question seriously and looked off into the distance at the low summer clouds. “It’s been some time since I last prayed, I admit, but I am a man of faith. My mother, she made sure we all attended church every Sunday.”
    “I shall miss my church,” Kendra admitted in a soft and wistful tone. She thought back on the little chapel on their property. All the neighbors gathered there every Sunday and the magistrate, Pastor Timms, gave such sincere messages. Then there was her work with the poor and sickly parishioners. Bringing them baskets of muffins, bathing fevered brows, and tidying up, it was a work she had been glad to do. “I do hope to find a church in America.”
    Dorian stared at her with a thoughtful gaze, his humor seemingly restored. “I shall make it my mission to see that you visit mine. I do believe your aunt and uncle live close enough.”
    “Oh? Do you know where they live? I had thought to have to discover that on my own upon our arrival.”
    Dorian took her arm again and led her further down the deck. “It is just north of Yorktown, I believe. According to the description your uncle gave me.”
    “Is that close to where you live?”
    The captain gave a short nod. “Close enough.”
    He didn’t sound very pleased by the prospect of having her so near, which was confusing, seeing that he was offering to help her find a church. Kendra felt as if her feathers had been ruffled. She sniffed, crossing her arms across her chest.
    “Are you cold?” He was the very picture of concerned care. Gracious, how the man made her emotions swing to and fro like a child’s swing.
    “No,” but she shivered, belying her words. The breeze was rather chilly by the rail.
    “Here, we can’t have you catching a chill.” The captain shrugged out of his coat and placed it around her shoulders. He stood in a white, full-sleeved shirt, dark breeches, and tall Hessian boots. The wind plastered the fabric of the shirt against his wide chest. Kendra averted her eyes but couldn’t stop the scent from his coat wafting to her nose. It was the same scent she’d smelled on his shirt earlier, when she’d practically ransacked his armoire. Her cheeks grew warm