Once a Pirate by Susan Grant

that followed was oppressive. The wind had shifted.
    The ship pitched sideways, almost jerking the rope away from her. In her haste to clutch the lifeline with both hands, she lost her balance and plunged backward. Frothing gray-green seawater rushed into her nose and mouth. The rope scored her hands like razors.
    “Help!” she shouted.
    “Man overboard! Man overboard, I say!”
    Carly shot a wild glance up to the railing. Andrew was there, shrugging off his coat, his boots. “Amanda! Good God, hold fast!” he roared, fastening a rope ladder to the railing. “I’m coming down!”
    Aw, hell.
Her foolishness had gotten her here. Now she was dragging Andrew into the mess she’d created, putting him at risk. She shouldn’t have called for help.
    Gulping air, she fought to climb higher on the rope. The cords seared her palms. The waves battered her against the hull. Suddenly she didn’t care what century she’d dropped into or whose identity she’d taken. All she wanted was to survive.
    On the chains, Andrew fell to his stomach and grabbed hold of the rope. “Pull yourself to me!”
    Her left hand cramped, shooting knifelike agony up her arm. “I can’t!”
    Then the greedy swells seized her thighs and hips and dragged her down into the sea.

Chapter Four
    For one excruciating instant, Andrew thought he had lost her. Her panic, her desperation, rushed into him as though it were his own. But she stopped her slide with the knotted end of the rope.
    The ship was slowing, but not fast enough. If he didn’t act fast, she’d be left behind. The ship would return for her, but there were no guarantees that she’d be found.
    Gritting his teeth, he pulled the rope toward him, hand over hand. “Now!” he commanded, reaching for her.
    She swiped for his fingers and missed.
    “Again!” he implored.
    Grimacing, she extended her arm, her fingers splayed wide. He lunged for her. The muscles in his back and arms quivered with the strain. When hercold, slippery hand wrapped around his, relief beyond his experience squeezed his insides. He muttered a prayer of thanks and hauled her onto the chains, supporting her by hooking one arm under her bottom. “I’ve got you,” he murmured against the pulse beating wildly at her throat.
    Amanda’s thin arms coiled around his neck. “Thank God.”
    He tightened his embrace as an overwhelming need to protect her, to care for her, surged through him. He fought the urge to cover her mouth with his and kiss her with as much passion as he had in his soul.
    A resounding cheer erupted.
    His men were gathered at the railing above. “Fine show, sir,” Cuddy called down. “Carry her on up. We’ll help at the top.”
    Andrew moved her back. He gestured with his chin to the roughly knotted rope. “Are you able to climb?”
    “No problem,” she said steadily, though her hands shook when she grabbed the ladder.
    He followed close behind, supporting her wriggling, round little rump with one shoulder, while Cuddy helped her over the railing.
    “Mr. Egan,” Andrew said to Cuddy, keeping his voice on an even keel to camouflage his roiling emotions. “Let us get underway. South by southeast.”
    “Aye, Cap’n.”
    Andrew turned his attention to Amanda. Her golden brown eyes were downcast. Droplets of seawater clung to her pale cheeks like tears. She looked positively forlorn. A sense of helplessness quenched his fierce relief. She had meant to kill herself, he thought numbly. Short of locking her in his quarters, how would he prevent her from trying again? Weary andfeeling far older than thirty years, he asked, “Is it so horrible here that you must take your own life?”
    She squared her shoulders. “I wasn’t trying to commit suicide.”
    “Then what the bloody hell were you doing on the chains?”
    “I thought if I stood near the water, I could get home. But the wind changed directions, and I fell in.” She beseeched him with her eyes. “Accidentally.”
    Surely he had not heard