Free Corsets & Crossbones by Heather C. Myers Page A

the desk to maintain her balance.  Joel had grabbed Fiona to make sure she did not fall, his hand gripping her forearm firmly, a protective look cascaded in his blue eyes.  His jaw was set, his lips pressed together.  Brooke and Fiona, however, felt not determined, but fearful, and they did not shield their feelings behind a mask.
    Another canon hit Port Royal, this time shaking much more violently than the first blow.  Even Joel’s look faltered, and his eyes sought out Brooke.  “We have to leave now,” he said tightly, his hand still wrapped around Fiona’s wrist.  “I shall escort you home, Brooke.  Fiona, you must go with your grandfather.” 
    Fiona nodded, and once the two pairs got into their separate carriages, they were off.  Joel kept glancing out his window, hoping to catch a glance at Fiona’s carriage as it made its way up to the Governor’s mansion.  Another cannonball shot through the tension-filled silence, causing Brooke to let out a yelp of surprise.  Her eyes were rimmed with tears, her lightly tanned face pale.
    “What is happening, Joel?” she asked the man besides her, her voice shaking as she spoke.
    Joel turned to face her as they pulled into Brooke’s driveway.  “I do not know, Brooke,” he said softly.  “I do not know.”
    Once the carriage came to a stop, he climbed out and helped Brooke out as well.  They dashed over to the front door.  “I have to go now, Brooke,” he said, and pulled her into a tight hug.  “Please be careful.”  Another shot was fired, and Joel turned and dashed back to his carriage.
    Brooke could not even hear the carriage roll away as she heard guns fire now.  Quickly, she opened the doors to her home, guessing that all her father’s servants had fled in fear.  She was not even quite sure why she was returned to her home.  The stillness in her house made her shudder for she realized that not even her father was in the house.  She was alone, truly alone.  Another cannonball was fired, and more gun shots pierced the sky.  Her heart beat quickened in fear, and she held onto the railing of the staircase to keep her balance as she dashed quickly up the stairs and then burst into her room.
    --
    Captain Charlie Colt was leaning back in his chair in the back of the pub, his boots crossed and resting on the table he was currently occupying.  He kept his eyes on the door, watching different people go in and out, something he naturally did.  He loved to study people, to watch how they spoke, how they carried themselves; something always gave people away.  People always had some sort of tell, whether it was as simple as rubbing their fingers together, biting their lip, or maybe it was as simple as their eyes giving them away.
    A woman walked in now.  She was stunning, her long ebony locks curling down to her hips, her smooth, light brown skin glowing in the candlelight of the bar.  She had a sharp face, and a strong chin, and her eyes were a caramel brown.  She was incredibly tall, curvier than a winding road, and her aura just eroded with sensuality.  As she walked, her hips swayed hypnotically to each side, causing men to look at her with desire in their eyes.  She was wearing a form-fitting tunic and a high- waisted pair of tight slacks that accented her hips perfectly.  Her boots were made of black leather and went up just past her knees.  When she saw Charlie leaning back so casually, her full lips curled into a smile and her eyes sparkled with mischievousness.  She walked over to him, and then pulled out a seat right across from him.  Without a word, she sat down.
    Charlie gave her a dry smile, and raised his arm and motioned toward the seat.  “Please, have a seat,” he offered.
    “Captain Charlie Colt,” she said slowly, her heavily accented voice articulated.  “How nice to meet you again, after so many years.”  She leaned forward, her arms crossed casually so that Charlie received a generous flash of cleavage.