Treasured Embrace

Chapter 1

Coastal Virginia
June 1816

Marisa fought vehemently to break free as the bearded man pulled her toward the ship anchored in the secluded bay.

"Reluctant to go on a smuggling ship?" he asked with a loud laugh, showing blackened teeth.

"Let go of me!" Marisa cried sharply as she dug her feet into the soft sand to resist his hold. She twisted in his grasp, trying to pull her wrist away from his strong fingers, but several other men crowded close to herd her along. A strangled cry burst from her lips as a hard shove in the small of her back made her fall onto her knees.
As the men yanked her to her feet, she had no strength to fight them. Unable to stop their relentless pull, she stumbled along as they dragged her to the water's edge. Her throat constricted in fear as the smuggler swung her into his arms and waded through the shallow water to the waiting dinghy. She struggled fiercely against him, but he held her tight, laughing at her efforts.

When he reached the small craft, he swung her over the side and dropped her onto the seat. Marisa landed with a hard thud, her breath almost knocked out of her. Before she could recover, the smuggler sprang in beside her, trapping her into a corner. His grip was harsh on her arm as the other men loaded the stolen guns. By the time they pushed off, her heart was pounding in a sickening crescendo.
As they rowed toward the ship, the smuggler started plucking the hairpins from her hair one at a time.

"Don't do that!" she pleaded in a choked voice, shrinking away from his touch. She tried to swat his hands away, but by the time the dinghy reached the ship, he had almost freed her hair from the smooth chignon pinned at the nape of her neck.

As the dinghy bumped against the side of the larger vessel, the smuggler stood up and, grabbing her by the waist, tossed her roughly over his shoulder.

He started up the rope ladder, and Marisa stopped fighting for fear that he would drop her, smashing her between the two rocking boats. When he finally reached the top, she cried out as other men wrenched her from his grasp to bring her onto the deck.

Her long golden hair broke free of the last pins that held it and tumbled down around her waist. As the men closed in around her, she lashed out to stop them, but there were too many hands, taking too many liberties. She gasped sharply as she felt the bodice of her modest beige dress rip.

"Stop that!" Her words ended in a desperate scream as someone grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides. She thrashed helplessly as the bearded smuggler moved in front of her, his eyes eager as he reached out for her.

"No, no," she sobbed, shaking her head from side to side, tangling her hair across her face. Suddenly, the smuggler was yanked away from her, and the man holding her abruptly released her. Marisa slumped down to the deck, taking racking breaths.

"Well, what do we have here?" she heard a voice say softly. She looked up into pale gray eyes set in a ruggedly handsome face enhanced by a cleft in the chin.

He took hold of her chin and tilted it up toward him. As he looked into her heart-shaped face with its high cheekbones, he grinned, showing even white teeth. "And she's a beauty as well." He let his gaze move slowly from her frightened blue eyes down over her, pausing at the ample cleavage exposed by the torn dress before continuing over her slender waist.

"Who is she and where did she come from?" he demanded, releasing her chin and stepping back. Numbly, Marisa remained where she was.

A burly man hurried over. "Captain, I brought her. She surprised me in my shop while I was checking the guns, so I decided to bring her to you and let you do what you want with her. She only had one small bag, but it didn't have any identifying papers in it. She was traveling alone." He quickly explained the situation, then cleared his throat nervously because the captain didn't seem to like his story. "If you don't need me for anything else, I best be getting back." He scurried down to the dinghy as the crew prepared to cast off.

The captain returned his attention to her. "Who are you?" he asked as he pulled her to her feet.

Marisa wasn't a small woman, but he towered over her. He had the build of an athlete, with a muscular torso tapering to a narrow waist. The ship lurched as the wind caught the sails, causing her to stumble against him. Her cheek brushed his chest, and he clasped her shoulders to steady her. His flowing, white shirt was open to the waist, revealing a heavy, golden neck chain gleaming against tanned, furred skin, and she rapidly stepped back to break the contact.

Marisa ignored his question and looked pleadingly into his face. "Please let me go," she whispered. "I won't tell anyone anything."

He ran his fingers through his medium-brown hair and then tucked his thumbs into his tight leather breeches, considering her.
"I can't let you go. You've seen too much." His expression grew thoughtful. "You might be just the diversion I need, though," he mused. "Take her to my cabin," he ordered one of his men. "I need to check the shipment." Once again, he looked her over, his interest apparent. Then he turned away and strode off, leaving her with the men.

The man took her by the arm and started to draw her toward the steps leading below. The other men crowded around and made lewd comments about what the captain would do to her and what they would do once he tired of her.

Marisa saw no mercy in their expressions and felt that unless she did some quick thinking, she was going to be a "diversion" not only for the captain, but for all his men as well. Gathering her strength, she broke free of the man's grasp. Before anyone else could grab her again, she forced her face to relax into a seductive pout.

"Come on, men," she gasped with a little laugh. "There's more than enough of me to go around. But I don't want my dress ruined. Let me remove it myself, and I'll show you all a good time!" Slowly and tantalizingly, she started to unbutton the front of her dress, hoping the men wouldn't see the fear that was making her hands tremble. She would only have the one chance to get away.

The men froze in amazement at this sudden turn of events. This woman, who dressed and acted like a lady, was now conducting herself like a whore.

Marisa undid the last buttons and let the dress slowly slip down to the deck. As the frills on her petticoat blew in the wind, the men looked hungrily at her. They started to crudely cheer her on.
The captain, hearing the commotion, walked back over and stood at the edge of the group. He frowned and felt strangely disappointed at her actions. He stood back, crossed his arms, and watched to see what she would do next.

Leaning suggestively against the side of the ship, Marisa removed her shoes, gathered her petticoat together, and pulled it over her head. She let it drop to the deck and shivered slightly as she stood in only her flimsy chemise. The wind whipped the gauzy material against her, emphasizing her long legs and shapely curves.

She saw the captain watching her with an amused look on his face. He said nothing as his men started to move closer. Although she was terribly afraid, she knew she had to act fast.

"Now, men," she teased as lightly as she could, "stand back and let me finish my show. It will be well worth your wait." Moving quickly, she eased herself up onto the top of the gunwale and stood up, holding tightly to the rigging.

She looked wildly beautiful standing there with her golden hair streaming in the wind, and the men waited expectantly for what she would do next.

Marisa scanned the water below her. The ship had hugged the shoreline as it sailed and was only about a hundred yards from the shore. It was a swim she knew she could make. Then she saw a dorsal fin off in the distance. A shark! Her heart sank, and she swayed perilously for a moment.

"Get on with it, darlin'!" shouted someone.

The words brought her back to reality. Holding the rigging with one hand, she slowly rolled her stockings off one leg, then the other, and tossed them to the men. Objectively, she surveyed them. They were all dressed in heavy boots and were weighted down with pistols. They couldn't jump in after her without first taking the time to remove their clothes. And the dinghy was on the other side of the ship. It would take considerable time to launch and maneuver around.

Marisa glanced one last time at the leering men, who were inching toward her, turned suddenly to face the water, and dove cleanly into the ocean.