Captive Embraces by Fern Michaels

Regan’s expertise, regardless of anything, she knew that the sea was a powerful mistress and oftentimes did win the battle she waged with the sailing vessels that dared to cross her domain!
    Sirena had been wrestling with this thought ever since Captain Dykstra had brought her the news, even though she had been careful not to admit it to herself. But when they had sighted the tall cliffs of Gibraltar, she would find herself more and more often whispering silent words of prayer that Regan would be found safe and sound. She loved him, God, how she loved him! Please God, let him be well!
    Sirena was broken from her pathetic prayers by a harsh cry from the atracar obreros, those longshoremen who made their livelihood by unloading the wealth of the world from ship’s holds.
    â€œHey, Capitán,” one burly, sweat-beaded obrero called to Jan, assuming he was the Captain of the Rana, “what you carry in your hold? Feathers? You ride high on the water.”
    â€œNo cargo, amigo,” Jan answered. “You’ll find no work here!”
    â€œWhere you coming from, Capitán?”
    â€œJava, the East Indies.”
    â€œAnd no cargo?” The burly dock worker shook his head incredulously. He turned to his small contingent of men and tapped a finger to his temple.
    Sirena laughed. Jan turned and looked at her, his face flushed with color. “They think you’re loco, Jan. Who ever heard of traveling halfway around the world without a cargo to make the journey worthwhile?”
    â€œPerhaps I should have referred him to you, Capitana,” Jan teased. “If he learned that a woman captains this ship, he would forgive the stupidity of sailing without cargo and merely think me crazy for sailing under a female.”
    â€œA hungry woman!” Sirena laughed. “I wonder if Jacobus has any of those biscuits and hot coffee left. Come, Jan. I’ll need you to run interference for me if Jacobus has already cleaned his galley and stowed away the larder.”
    Over old Jacobus’ protests, Sirena and Jan leaned their elbows on the galley table and sipped at their steaming mugs of coffee. “Tell me, Capitana, how long has it been since you were last in Cádiz?”
    â€œTio Juan, my sister Isabella and I sailed from Cádiz just before we. arrived in the Indies. Like all old cities, it hasn’t changed from what I could see of it from the quarterdeck.”
    â€œThen you are familiar with the city?”
    â€œCertainly,” Sirena answered. “A grand place it is, too. I always loved it when I was a child. As a matter of fact, my family still owns a magnificent casa not far from the dock area. It sits up on a hill and from there it is possible to see the ships in port. It belonged to Tio Juan, but now it is mine.” Sirena’s eyes turned murky with sorrow. “How I loved to visit my uncle when I was a child, Jan. Isabella and I would race up and down the cobblestoned courtyard and our dueña, Magdelena, would throw up her hands and screech that we were children of the devil. Then, Isabella and I would go somewhere and hide and giggle till our sides hurt. Tio Juan would listen to our dueña’s complaints about our incorrigible behavior and pretend to be angry with us. But all the time he was scolding us for Señora Magdelena’s benefit, we could see his eyes twinkling and a barely concealed smile hiding behind his carefully trimmed mustache.”
    â€œYou loved your Tio Juan very much, Capitana. It is there to be seen in your eyes.”
    â€œYes, Jan. Both Isabella and myself cherished him very much. But it was my father who was my hero. He was tall and dashing and always carefully groomed. I thought he was the most magnificent person ever put on earth. He was greatly respected by all and feared by most. But for my sister and me he was the kindest, most loving man. His arms were always open for us to run to and he would swing us up, high