NEW
Samuel Keegan used to man the wheel of the Sea Dog over 200 years ago, but these days his crew is back together searching for the Holy Grail. The quest leads him to Dr. Charlotte Sinclair, an expert on ancient pirate wrecks. She's smart, stubborn, and free-willed, but in the end her life might depend on one Pirate's Passion...
~ EXCERPT ~
“What shall we do with the drunken sailor early in the mornin’?” Keegan held the last note over the roar of the crowd at the pub, and finished with a flourished bow.
It was a Scallywag tradition to end their concerts with a pirate shanty. Course no one in the band, or the crowd, knew he’d been singing the salty tunes for more than two hundred years now.
Keegan scanned the pub for the raven-haired beauty who had caught his eye in the front row. When his gaze met hers, her full red lips curved into a sexy welcoming smile, and his heart hit a familiar rhythm. She’d be his tonight.
The world had changed around him over the years. He no longer piloted a pirate ship. Instead, he carried a cell phone and fronted a southern rock band, but raw passion, the animal attraction between a man and a woman, that magic remained untouched.
He couldn’t say the same for the woman in the front row.
After he stuffed the mic back into the stand, he approached her and knelt down, shouting over the noise. “What’s your name, lass?”
She grinned. “Char.”
“Meet me backstage. I’ll tell the crew to expect you.” Her eyes sparkled, wild, and damn did he want to taste those lips. “Say yes.”
“Maybe.” She backed up into the crowd as Keegan rose to his full height.
He chuckled and straightened his leather frock coat. Saucy. Usually women were eager for him back stage invitations. He followed the band offstage, grabbing one of the security guys on his way. “Hey mate, if a gorgeous woman named Char comes looking for me, let her through.”
The man at the door agreed, and Keegan headed for his tiny green room. He loved playing at the Moon River Brewing Company. The place was haunted, but hell, so was most of Savannah. That was part of why he stayed. While the rest of the world moved into the future, new buildings, new transportation, and new technology, the historic heart of Savannah, Georgia did its best to remain the same.
He didn’t feel out of place here.
After hanging up his coat, he ran a comb through his hair and grinned when a knock sounded at his door. He opened it and stared down into a pair of fathomless dark eyes. “A woman of her word. I like that.”
“I didn’t give you my word, just a solid maybe. Call me…curious.” She smiled, her hip jutting to the side. Her stance was nothing like the giddy groupies he usually entertained after shows. “Are you going to invite me in?”
He nodded, taking a step back. Most of the women who came backstage had their lips on his before he could speak, and he carried them inside.
Pleasantries. This was new.
As he closed the door and turned around, he found her inspecting his coat. He chuckled, raising a brow. “Didn’t realize you were a costumer.”
“I’m not.” Her gaze snapped up to meet his, a smile replacing the contemplative stare from a moment before. “Just don’t often see that kind of workmanship unless it’s in a museum.”
He glanced at his coat. The same one he’d worn the night he stood at the helm of the Sea Dog gripping the wheel as they smashed into the rocks. He’d mended the coat over the years, but the majority of the leather was older than the historic building they were standing in.
“It’s been passed down in my family for generations.” He focused on her again, shoving away thoughts better left under the sea with the remains of the ship. “Did you enjoy the show tonight?”
“I did.” She nodded, coming closer. “You don’t usually end your sets with such a well-known shanty.”
She was a fan. He shrugged, an easy smile curving his lips. “Nothing wrong with an old favorite.”
“I guess not.” She shrugged.
Keegan moved a little closer, intrigued by this woman who seemed more interested in his coat than the body that was recently inside it. If he didn’t already know better, he might’ve worried he was losing his touch with the ladies. Usually women who visited his dressing room were sauced from the bar and rubbing all over him. He didn’t need to converse much.
Char’s cheeks were flushed, but she was nowhere near shit-faced.
Her voice was rich, velvety, and thick, like her long hair. “I’ve never come backstage before.”
“I’d love to change that…” A smile teased the corners of his mouth as he took a step closer, reaching for her hand.
She chuckled with a playful spark in her eyes. “Do lines like that work for you?”
He raised a brow. “Often.” He pulled her a little closer, aching to taste her lips. “But I must admit, you intrigue me. Why did you come to my door?”
She wet her lips and whispered, “I promised my friend at work that tonight would be a night of yes.”
Her final word carried a breathiness that had his blood rushing to his groin. His voice dropped to a raw growl more than a whisper. “What if I asked if I could kiss you?”
Her eyes searched his as she whispered, “Yes.”
His pulse hadn’t raced like this in lifetimes. He bent to kiss her lips and coaxed her to open to him, groaning with desire. She tasted like spiced rum and pineapple. Her tongue tangled slowly with his. He couldn’t get enough. Her hands slid into his hair; her full breasts pressed tight against his chest.
He needed much more. Keegan backed her toward his dressing area and lifted her onto the counter, without ceasing his delicious assault on her warm mouth. She tugged his T-shirt free of his jeans, breaking the kiss long enough to pull it off. She dropped it to the ground as he fused his lips to hers again.
Her fingers explored his chest, her touch setting him on fire. His erection ached for freedom from his jeans as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
He wanted her naked. Now.
Sliding his hands underneath the back of her top, he kissed his way down her neck when something buzzed between them.
“Shit.” She gasped, digging into her pocket for her phone.
Fucking cell phones.
She raked a hand through her hair, then pulled it back from her face. God, she was beautiful.
A crease formed between her brows as she stared at the screen. She shook her head, meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.”
For a second, he couldn’t understand her. “Go?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I don’t want to, but this is really important.”
Keegan stepped back, shaking his head, struggling to rein in the yearning she’d kindled inside him. He needed a cold shower. Maybe two.
“Pity,” he muttered.
She hopped off his counter, her gaze wandering over his bare chest as her teeth caught her lower lip. “Damn.” She cleared her throat. “I’m really sorry.”
He took some solace in the way her skin flushed, at the hunger in her eyes. She’d wanted him, too.
He yanked his cell out of his pocket. “Maybe I could call you later.”
She ran her fingers back through her long black hair. “Probably not. This…” She gestured at his dressing room. “I don’t do things like this. Rum always steals my better judgment.”
“Good to know.” He smirked.
She reached for the door and stopped, glancing back over her shoulder, that wicked smile curving on her lips again. “I’m glad I said yes.” She straightened her top and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. “It was great meeting you, Keegan.”
And just like that, Char walked out of his dressing room, leaving him behind with a raging erection. For a moment, he toyed with the idea of trolling the bar for another willing fan, but when he picked up his shirt from the floor, he realized sex with someone else wasn’t what he wanted.
He wanted her.
Odd.
He needed something else to think about. Keegan grabbed his coat and bag and headed out the back door for home. There was definitely a cold shower in his future.
It was a Scallywag tradition to end their concerts with a pirate shanty. Course no one in the band, or the crowd, knew he’d been singing the salty tunes for more than two hundred years now.
Keegan scanned the pub for the raven-haired beauty who had caught his eye in the front row. When his gaze met hers, her full red lips curved into a sexy welcoming smile, and his heart hit a familiar rhythm. She’d be his tonight.
The world had changed around him over the years. He no longer piloted a pirate ship. Instead, he carried a cell phone and fronted a southern rock band, but raw passion, the animal attraction between a man and a woman, that magic remained untouched.
He couldn’t say the same for the woman in the front row.
After he stuffed the mic back into the stand, he approached her and knelt down, shouting over the noise. “What’s your name, lass?”
She grinned. “Char.”
“Meet me backstage. I’ll tell the crew to expect you.” Her eyes sparkled, wild, and damn did he want to taste those lips. “Say yes.”
“Maybe.” She backed up into the crowd as Keegan rose to his full height.
He chuckled and straightened his leather frock coat. Saucy. Usually women were eager for him back stage invitations. He followed the band offstage, grabbing one of the security guys on his way. “Hey mate, if a gorgeous woman named Char comes looking for me, let her through.”
The man at the door agreed, and Keegan headed for his tiny green room. He loved playing at the Moon River Brewing Company. The place was haunted, but hell, so was most of Savannah. That was part of why he stayed. While the rest of the world moved into the future, new buildings, new transportation, and new technology, the historic heart of Savannah, Georgia did its best to remain the same.
He didn’t feel out of place here.
After hanging up his coat, he ran a comb through his hair and grinned when a knock sounded at his door. He opened it and stared down into a pair of fathomless dark eyes. “A woman of her word. I like that.”
“I didn’t give you my word, just a solid maybe. Call me…curious.” She smiled, her hip jutting to the side. Her stance was nothing like the giddy groupies he usually entertained after shows. “Are you going to invite me in?”
He nodded, taking a step back. Most of the women who came backstage had their lips on his before he could speak, and he carried them inside.
Pleasantries. This was new.
As he closed the door and turned around, he found her inspecting his coat. He chuckled, raising a brow. “Didn’t realize you were a costumer.”
“I’m not.” Her gaze snapped up to meet his, a smile replacing the contemplative stare from a moment before. “Just don’t often see that kind of workmanship unless it’s in a museum.”
He glanced at his coat. The same one he’d worn the night he stood at the helm of the Sea Dog gripping the wheel as they smashed into the rocks. He’d mended the coat over the years, but the majority of the leather was older than the historic building they were standing in.
“It’s been passed down in my family for generations.” He focused on her again, shoving away thoughts better left under the sea with the remains of the ship. “Did you enjoy the show tonight?”
“I did.” She nodded, coming closer. “You don’t usually end your sets with such a well-known shanty.”
She was a fan. He shrugged, an easy smile curving his lips. “Nothing wrong with an old favorite.”
“I guess not.” She shrugged.
Keegan moved a little closer, intrigued by this woman who seemed more interested in his coat than the body that was recently inside it. If he didn’t already know better, he might’ve worried he was losing his touch with the ladies. Usually women who visited his dressing room were sauced from the bar and rubbing all over him. He didn’t need to converse much.
Char’s cheeks were flushed, but she was nowhere near shit-faced.
Her voice was rich, velvety, and thick, like her long hair. “I’ve never come backstage before.”
“I’d love to change that…” A smile teased the corners of his mouth as he took a step closer, reaching for her hand.
She chuckled with a playful spark in her eyes. “Do lines like that work for you?”
He raised a brow. “Often.” He pulled her a little closer, aching to taste her lips. “But I must admit, you intrigue me. Why did you come to my door?”
She wet her lips and whispered, “I promised my friend at work that tonight would be a night of yes.”
Her final word carried a breathiness that had his blood rushing to his groin. His voice dropped to a raw growl more than a whisper. “What if I asked if I could kiss you?”
Her eyes searched his as she whispered, “Yes.”
His pulse hadn’t raced like this in lifetimes. He bent to kiss her lips and coaxed her to open to him, groaning with desire. She tasted like spiced rum and pineapple. Her tongue tangled slowly with his. He couldn’t get enough. Her hands slid into his hair; her full breasts pressed tight against his chest.
He needed much more. Keegan backed her toward his dressing area and lifted her onto the counter, without ceasing his delicious assault on her warm mouth. She tugged his T-shirt free of his jeans, breaking the kiss long enough to pull it off. She dropped it to the ground as he fused his lips to hers again.
Her fingers explored his chest, her touch setting him on fire. His erection ached for freedom from his jeans as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
He wanted her naked. Now.
Sliding his hands underneath the back of her top, he kissed his way down her neck when something buzzed between them.
“Shit.” She gasped, digging into her pocket for her phone.
Fucking cell phones.
She raked a hand through her hair, then pulled it back from her face. God, she was beautiful.
A crease formed between her brows as she stared at the screen. She shook her head, meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.”
For a second, he couldn’t understand her. “Go?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I don’t want to, but this is really important.”
Keegan stepped back, shaking his head, struggling to rein in the yearning she’d kindled inside him. He needed a cold shower. Maybe two.
“Pity,” he muttered.
She hopped off his counter, her gaze wandering over his bare chest as her teeth caught her lower lip. “Damn.” She cleared her throat. “I’m really sorry.”
He took some solace in the way her skin flushed, at the hunger in her eyes. She’d wanted him, too.
He yanked his cell out of his pocket. “Maybe I could call you later.”
She ran her fingers back through her long black hair. “Probably not. This…” She gestured at his dressing room. “I don’t do things like this. Rum always steals my better judgment.”
“Good to know.” He smirked.
She reached for the door and stopped, glancing back over her shoulder, that wicked smile curving on her lips again. “I’m glad I said yes.” She straightened her top and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. “It was great meeting you, Keegan.”
And just like that, Char walked out of his dressing room, leaving him behind with a raging erection. For a moment, he toyed with the idea of trolling the bar for another willing fan, but when he picked up his shirt from the floor, he realized sex with someone else wasn’t what he wanted.
He wanted her.
Odd.
He needed something else to think about. Keegan grabbed his coat and bag and headed out the back door for home. There was definitely a cold shower in his future.
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