A Pirate's Possession by Michelle Beattie Page A

him she had the map. Not that he’d forgotten, she was certain, but as it was, if he wanted to get it ...
    She swallowed hard. The thought of his hands on her made her belly flutter. Damn him.
    â€œIf I let you go, will you sit calmly or will you come after me again?”
    She glared at him. She’d love nothing better than to get in at least one solid shot. As though he read her mind, his eyes hardened.
    â€œI’ll tie you up if I have to,” he threatened.
    Claire had learned to fight since the orphanage but she’d also learned to choose her battles. Swallowing her pride hurt, but she did it.
    â€œI won’t fight you,” she agreed.
    He angled his head again as he studied her. He must have realized she meant it because he released her arms. When she made no move to hit him, he slowly eased away. He moved to the table, lit the candles. Soft light bathed the room. Claire scrambled off the bed but kept her distance, as much as the cabin allowed. Nate leaned against a beam near the base of the ladder. If she hadn’t already figured she was trapped, she would have known then.
    Though she could feel her knife against her leg, she didn’t consider using it. Where would she go? They were too far away from land for her to swim to shore and she couldn’t possibly overpower his whole crew. Still, it didn’t mean she planned on making it easier for Nate. She crossed her arms, waited.
    Nate looked her over, couldn’t see the map anywhere. Where had she managed to hide it in such a short amount of time?
    â€œYou’re not leaving this cabin with the map.”
    â€œYou can’t have it.”
    â€œWhere is it?”
    Claire’s eyes shone like the polished blade of a sword. Her knowing grin warned Nate he wouldn’t like her response and her words confirmed it.
    â€œIt’s in my undershirt.”
    â€œHand it over.”
    â€œNo.”
    Nate ran a tired hand through his hair. “How are you going to go after the treasure, Claire?” He took in her dirty clothes and face, the chopped hair. While it was apparent she’d fallen on hard times, Nate wouldn’t let himself be moved by that. She’d had choices, goddammit. It wasn’t his fault she’d made the wrong ones.
    â€œI’ll find a way. I’ve managed without you this long, haven’t I?”
    Nate set his jaw. “The clue doesn’t leave this cabin.”
    â€œYou’d hold me prisoner?” Claire gasped.
    â€œNot if you give me the clue. Then you can dance yourself right off the ship as soon as we make port.”
    â€œYou want it?” Claire asked, glowering. “You’ll have to take it. It’s the only way you’ll ever see it.”
    Nate strode to the berth, where he loomed over her. “I’ve got no problem fishing it out of your undershirt.”
    â€œYou wouldn’t dare,” she seethed.
    He arched a brow. “Are you certain?” He moved toward her. Claire took a step back—all she could do with the berth at her back—and her eyes widened. He smelled the wind in her hair, the lingering aroma of campfire on her clothing. Her breath whispered against his neck. He stepped closer still, until their clothes brushed and his legs bracketed hers.
    That her eyes never left his only heightened the awareness between them. The hardness that hadn’t fully abated from when she’d thrashed beneath him on the bed came surging back to life.
    The gray shirt she wore beneath her vest had only one button open at the neck, but it was enough to allow his fingers to slip behind it. Her skin was hot and it seared the backs of his hands. He flipped open another button. At the base of her throat he saw her pulse increase. She inhaled sharply. Another button opened, revealing the white edge of her undershirt.
    He freed yet another and her shirt gaped open. He exhaled a troubled breath. Her skin was white as porcelain. He skimmed his