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  Wrong Kind of Paradise

  Suzie Grant

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or

  dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Wrong Kind of Paradise

  Copyright © 2011 by Suzie Grant

  Cover Design by Melissa Hartsell

  Edited by Mindy Moore

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical

  means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written

  permission.

  For more information: www.suziegrantauthor.com

  Even the Hell’s Angel needs a guardian and English Privateer Blac Barclay is unwillingly recruited

  for the job in this high seas adventure.

  Blac must choose between revenge against the British Lieutenant who’d ruined his family or

  keeping his word to the pirate who’d saved his life. Escorting the pirate’s daughter to her grandfather’s

  care becomes impossible when the little wanton steals his ship. Ordered by the lieutenant to retrieve the

  woman they call the Hell’s Angel, Blac is determined to honor his word to his friend and use the

  wayward wanton as bait. But will his plan cost him the only woman to ever steal his heart?

  When Angel De’haviland’s father is imprisoned with charges of piracy, the pirate’s daughter

  commandeers a British privateer’s ship and plans to kidnap a high ranking official to ransom for her

  father’s release. But her attempted abduction is foiled by the very captain whose ship she’d stolen, and

  she becomes a captive herself. Now she must trust her handsome captor to free her father as he leads her

  right into the Wrong Kind of Paradise.

  Dedication

  To my wonderful critique group, the historical romance critique group. To each of you who helped

  me brainstorm, corrected my horrible grammar, and contributed to this story. Thank you. And to my dad

  for always showing me what a true hero should be. Special thanks to my editor Mindy Moore.

  One

  1689

  A remote isle off the coast of Cuba

  Changing Captain Barclay’s mind may not be as easy a task as Angel De’Haviland had first

  imagined. Unfortunately, he continued to see her as “Logan’s daughter” and the more she tried to convince

  him she’d grown during his absence, the more distant he seemed. Now how to accomplish such a feat

  when the man had damn near killed himself trying to avoid her?

  The privateer waded his way to shore as more and more of his men gathered around her. Waist-

  deep in pale, cerulean water the man took her breath away. Sunlight glistened off the droplets on his chest

  and shoulders. Such a delicious vision of bronzed maleness. Unfortunately, he still considered her a child,

  despite the fact that she’d passed her eighteenth year last summer. So one question remained: how to

  change his mind?

  A frown marred the good captain’s features. Of course, her actions over the last several days had

  probably tried his patience to no end. He would surely accuse her of distracting his crew again albeit the

  only person she intended to distract was him.

  Angel grinned and flipped her ashen locks over one shoulder. With her legs braced wide she

  taunted one of his crewmembers, “En garde, Eric.” She raised the cutlass and waved it in a figure-eight.

  “Now, we’ll see who is the better man.”

  The first clang of metal split the high-pitched chatter of the Jamaican Becards in the distance. Eric

  raised a single brow. “If yer a man, then I must have drunk too much of that swill served in the Black

  Lagoon.”

  A small crowd of the ship’s crew gathered around, shouting bets. “Thirty shillings on Angel!”

  “Ye ain’t got that much, Strider, ye bleedin’ freeloader.”

  Shouldering his way into the throng of men, Blac grabbed Strider’s shirt and pushed him aside. “Get

  back to work.”

  “What do I get if I win?” Eric asked as they paused with swords straining between one another. The

  waggle of his brows clearly stated he expected more than any modest woman should give. The tell-tale

  leers and soft laughter of the others all confirmed what Eric had on his mind. This time her plan would

  work, judging by the very jealous captain’s scowl as his brows drew so closely together he resembled a

  hawk.

  “What do you want?” Her tone didn’t inquire; it seduced.

  Delighted, Angel smothered another grin. She’d certainly caught Blac off-guard since his return.

  Perhaps, she simply enjoyed punishing him for all those years he’d ignored her. Either way, she’d never

  dreamed she could hold this much power over him, but with the discovery, she simply couldn’t resist

  taunting him.

  Angel had never behaved this way before but once she unleashed the temptress within, she would

  not be locked away again. I’ve loved this man half of my life now. Captain Barclay would fall in love

  with her. One way or another.

  Eric sent a wary glance in Blac’s direction and performed a mock bow. “Only a littl’ jig with the

  most beautiful lady ‘ere tonight,” Eric said, deflecting her next assault with a return jab.

  Caving under the captain’s warning glare, Eric refused to play along with her. Blac nodded and

  turned back to the ship. Hmm, we shall just see about that, Blac Barclay. She would not be ignored so

  easily.

  Angel cocked a brow. “And here I thought you’d request a kiss in a dark corner somewhere. I

  looked forward to having a heated embrace with a real man who knows just what a woman needs. But

  alas, you’re playing the gentlemen with me.”

  Blac whipped around to glare at her. Young Eric’s eyes rounded then roved across her figure,

  heating to a degree that should’ve blistered her skin. When he opened his mouth to speak, Angel skipped

  away. “Ahh, too late! You’ve lost your chance, so a dance ‘tis.”

  Both of the captain’s brows rose as his mouth dropped open in shock, and Angel giggled. You are

  mine for the taking, Blac Barclay. You just don’t realize it quite yet.

  ~*~

  Angel had become a threat. To herself.

  At eighteen, the lass had turned into a flirt and a perpetual tease. Privateer Blac Barclay, imagined

  nothing short of a good, old-fashioned paddling would cease Angel’s scandalous behavior.

  He sighed . I need to save Angel’s wayward neck again.

  Her father, Logan, had asked him to keep her entertained today, but the task was proving impossible

  as the only distraction came from her. How the hell am I supposed to keep my men on task with her

  around?

  The Serpent, a double-masted Brigatine, lay on her side while members of his crew — or the

  members who were still on task — scraped the barnacles from her hull. They had less than two weeks to

  get the chore done and get off this isle. Unfortunately, his escapades with the pirate’s daughter were just

  beginning, as unbeknownst to her, she would be traveling with him.

  Angel remained unaware of the incident that had changed the course of her life. Logan would send

  someone when Ang
el’s belongings were packed, but he had seen no sign of them yet. Until then, he just

  had to keep her busy.

  But that was proving to be a task unto itself.

  Reluctant to make his way through the crowd to stop the unfolding scene, despite his conviction he

  must, Blac watched the opponents face off with a mix of curiosity and raw lust.

  The dueling pair circled each other inside the perimeter of the gathered crowd. They danced across

  the sand in perfect timing. Sunlight glinted off the matching cutlasses, and the rhythmic clanging escalated

  with the ever-increasing shouts of his men.

  Eric pounced with a series of attacks. “Either way, I get to hold you in me arms.”

  “I wait with bated breath,” Angel said, slashing with a single swipe. The impact sent Eric back,

  protecting his midsection.

  She retreated several steps and allowed him to follow her. In midstride, she attacked again, her

  stance solid and her skill unbelievable. But of course why shouldn’t it be? After all, Blac had been the

  one to teach her.

  Three years ago, Blac had left behind a skinny, knock-kneed young lass who, despite her lack of

  size, could best most of his men in battle. He’d returned a week ago to find a fully-matured woman who

  used her feminine wiles as cleverly as her sword. The combination was as compelling as her blue-green

  eyes.

  But when Eric’s cutlass sliced through the thin material of her shirt across her belly exposing the

  creamy skin beneath, the boy paused. Angel took advantage of the opportunity and struck his sword with

  enough force it soared from his grasp. With a single sweeping kick, young Eric found himself flat on his

  back.

  Great move.

  Blac had taught her to take advantage of every opportunity. To never underestimate an opponent no

  matter their size or strength. He’d also taught her to use her wits as well as her might. The man with the

  stronger sword arm could very well lose to the man with the smarter strategy. What better strategy for a

  woman than seduction?

  She laughed — a magical sound. Her slender brows rose over a pair of azure blue eyes. The

  muscular lad found himself at her mercy. With purpose, she propped one slender bare foot on the lad’s

  chest. Her gaze settled on Blac though. “It is a pleasure to see a man flat on his back for once.”

  Stunned, Blac struggled to close his gaping mouth. Two red blossoms sprouted on the young

  seaman’s cheeks, whether from the embarrassment of losing to a female or lust, Blac knew not. The hot-

  blooded siren smiled seductively at her crowd of men. “It is an interesting paradox of the strong suddenly

  becoming the vulnerable isn’t it?”

  Time to put an end to this. Blac strode to her without hesitation, lifted and set her several feet

  away. Eric rose to good-natured slaps and chuckles from the rest of the men.

  Playing with a man’s emotions, sexual or otherwise, wasn’t wise. Angel couldn’t possibly

  understand the consequences of her teasing. Or did she? To speak in such a way to any man, let alone a

  member of his crew who were known for their shady pasts, meant Angel knew more than she should at her

  age. She played the come-hither game. The only difference between her and the buxom whores hanging

  out the windows in the village was that Angel was still a virgin. Or was she?

  It had been quite some time since he’d been to the isle. Perhaps the little minx had become a woman

  in every sense of the word. Blac’s frown deepened. He should be happy she’d found some other sap to

  chase. After all, it solved the problem of having her underfoot so often. He should be thrilled. Shouldn’t

  he?

  And yet, his first instinct was to squash the competition.

  “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, Angel?” he growled from between clenched teeth.

  She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, outlining their shape. Blac swallowed.

  “Why must you ruin my fun?” Her tone wasn’t sulking as one would imagine. It was soft, seductive.

  She didn’t complain; she challenged him.

  “Why must you tempt my men?” He crossed his own arms. “Do you wish to see them punished?”

  She smiled. “Perhaps. I wouldn’t mind seeing a man on his knees for once.”

  Once again his mouth dropped open. “Where did you learn such filthy language?” He shook his

  head. “Don’t answer.” He already knew the answer. Living amongst pirates and prostitutes her entire life,

  with a father who doted on his daughter entirely too much, what else should he expect? “Logan should

  really consider locking you up somewhere,” he grumbled as he reached for her arm. There was little to no

  privacy on Logan’s island, and the infamous pirate certainly hadn’t tried to curb what his eighteen-year-

  old daughter had witnessed over the years.

  He seized her arm to stay her, but she attempted to jerk out of his grasp. He held firm.

  “Do you wish to take up where Eric left off?” she asked.

  He paused and arched a single brow. “Meaning what exactly?”

  “Meaning remove your hands from me this instant or find yourself flat on your back with my sword

  at your throat.”

  Surprise widened his gaze, but he couldn’t let this little challenge pass. Not by any means.

  Aware of their audience, Blac, pulled her closer by the upper arm so the others wouldn’t overhear.

  “Angel,” he whispered against her ear. “Let me be the first to warn you...despite being Logan’s daughter,

  should you try it, you will learn soon enough what it is like to have a seasoned sailor between those

  lovely thighs of yours. And I assure you, little one, it’ll be an experience you won’t soon forget.”

  Cerulean eyes rose to his. He saw no fear. Instead, her soft lips spread into an invitation. “I have

  waited half a lifetime to hear those words from you. I assure you, I look forward to the day those words

  become reality.”

  She leaned up, laying a hand on his chest for balance. Heat seared the skin on his chest from her

  palm and the fervor in her eyes scorched him to his toes. “It is you who will be surprised, as I am more

  than woman enough to handle the ride you so temptingly offer.” With a toss of her flaxen locks, she

  whirled and headed back toward the village.

  Had the little vixen just promised to lay with him or had he been fantasizing again?

  Blac stood, still digesting her words. Surely, he’d just misheard her. But, his gaze followed the

  movement of those hips before she disappeared around the curve in the trail.

  A macaw screeched, taking flight above him and jarred him out of his trance. He took one step, then

  another.

  Those weren’t the hips of a child, and by God, he’d just heard the very words he’d dreamed of

  hearing from her since he’d returned.

  Angel needed a lesson in propriety. And he damn sure didn’t mind being the man to give it to her.

  She crossed the bridge ahead of him. He ran now, darting between the palms to catch up. His hand

  glided across the rough, oak rail as the Jamaican Mango hummingbird flitted from side to side to avoid

  him.

  He jerked her around so hard she lost her balance and fell into him. He caught her but paused. Why

  did she have to feel so soft? So smooth?

  “Does your father know you speak so openly, miss?” he asked.

  “Does my father know you lust after me?” she countered.

  Blac let go of her as if he’d
just been burned. “Any woman who is scantily clad in a pair of cut off

  pants will arouse a man’s lust. Not just mine, Angel.”

  “It isn’t the pants arousing your lust, Blac. It’s what’s beneath them.”

  He ground his teeth together. Yes, and I can imagine running my hands across those smooth

  thighs.

  “How will your father feel should he learn what a little tease his daughter has become?”

  She snorted. “He hasn’t even noticed I have breasts yet.” She crossed her arms, and his gaze

  immediately fell to said breasts. She laughed. “Ahh, but you have. Haven’t you, Captain?” He turned

  away from her. “Look at me, Blac.” She said his name like a caress. “Look at me.”

  God’s bones.

  He looked. He shouldn’t have.

  “You’ve noticed I’m all grown up.” She ran her hands down her sides to emphasize her point. “It

  didn’t take much for you to notice I’m a woman now with a woman’s needs.”

  No , it hadn’t taken much at all.

  By God, I’m a decade older than Angel. I should be stoned for thinking these things.

  She’d developed an infatuation with him over the years but he’d never imagined he’d feel anything

  beyond friendship for her. That it would turn into something...like...

  Obsession.

  Passion.

  Lust.

  He’d been so careful to mask the growing attraction for her. Blac wiped a single hand across his

  face. How did one tell an infamous pirate his daughter was chasing him about like a dockside whore? The

  little hellion knew more about flirting than a seasoned courtesan.

  If she kept up this kind of behavior, Angel would be married and pregnant by year’s end by one of

  his men.

  Or worse, by him.

  ~*~

  “Ever since your return you’ve watched me,” Angel whispered. “I’ve felt your eyes.” For four

  years she’d waited for some sign of interest from this man. She reached up to trace the tick in his jaw line.

  Well, she had his attention now. “Did the women in London bore you to tears?”

  “I’m well satisfied with my current arrangement.” His dark hair fell across his brow and dripped