April Moon by Susan King, Merline Lovelace, MIRANDA JARRETT

agreed to Lowell’s plan. I would guess it wasn’t just to save his leathery hide.”
    “My reasons are my own.”
    “Tell me, lass. Perhaps I can help.”
    She couldn’t imagine how, but the overwhelming need to confide in someone—anyone!—overcame her reluctance to discuss her family’s financial failings.
    “Sir James holds a number of my father’s notes. A rather staggering number, if you must know. He holds almost as many of my brother’s. He said he’d pay them off when we became engaged, but held back. Now he’s promised to settle them if I…I…”
    “Bring me down?”
    “Yes.”
    He didn’t hesitate. Reversing the pistol, he held it butt-forward.
    “Take it.”
    “What?”
    “Take it. You struck a bargain with Lowell. He won’t honor his end if you don’t honor yours. You’ll have to shoot me.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    “Y OU’RE MAD !” Sarah gasped, the weight of the pistol heavy in her hand. “I can’t shoot you!”
    “Of course you can.” He caught her sagging arm and steadied it. “All you have to do is wrap your finger around the trigger, like this, and squeeze.”
    “Sir! Lieutenant Blake! You cannot expect me to…”
    “Richard.”
    Stupidly, she gaped at him.
    “Richard,” he repeated, a smile in his blue eyes. “My name is Richard. I should like to hear it on your lips before you pull the trigger.”
    “I have no intention of pulling anything!”
    He was mad, Sarah decided. He had to be to stand with legs wide braced, laughing down at her while she held a loaded pistol mere inches from his gullet.
    “Say it. Just once. Richard.”
    “Richard! There. I’ve said it. Now do, for pity’s sake, take this thing.”
    Desperately, she shoved the butt against hischest. He refused to accept it. Instead, he wrapped his big hand over hers, pointed the barrel at an awkward angle, and pressed his fingers on hers.
    The pistol belched fire.
    Smoke blossomed.
    Richard flinched.
    Sarah shrieked as the bullet grazed his upper arm and plowed into the bulkhead behind him. The acrid stink of powder stung her nostrils and burned her eyes. She could barely hear above the ringing in her ears, had to struggle to catch Blake’s offhand comment.
    “There,” he said with a nonchalance that stunned her. “It’s done.”
    It certainly was. Blinking away the burning tears, Sarah stared in horror at the red stain darkening his uniform sleeve. He grinned at her obvious dismay and dragged a handkerchief from his coat pocket.
    “It’s just a scratch, lass. I’ve nicked myself worse with my razor of a morning.”
    Still rooted in shock, she made no move to assist him as he tied the white linen around his arm one-handed and used his teeth to tug the knot tight.
    “Now you may tell Lowell the truth,” he told her when the makeshift bandage was in place. “You took aim and fired, but the shot went wide of its mark and you merely winged me. He can’t fault you for not attempting to hold to your end ofthe bargain. Or hurt you,” he added under his breath, flicking a glance at her bruised wrist.
    She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Or what he’d just done. He was an American. A mere colonial. As near to a pirate as made no difference. Yet he’d shot himself! Put a bullet through his own flesh to aid a woman he scarcely knew.
    Tears stung her eyes again. In the few short hours Sarah had known this man, he’d shown more concern and consideration for her than any of the other males in her life, her father, brother and betrothed included.
    Not only concern, she thought with a sharp ache just under her ribs. He’d also given her a taste of a woman’s pleasure, dark and rich and all compelling. The memory of it shimmered inside her, only to shatter at the thud of pounding boots. She didn’t doubt they heralded the precipitous arrival of several members of his crew, come to investigate the shot.
    “Lieutenant! Sir!”
    “You’d best let them in,” Blake instructed, busy reloading the