Emma Foster wasn’t a brothel girl, far from it. When she's mistaken for one she finds herself gagged, knocked unconscious, and dragged aboard the infamous pirate ship, The Floriblanca, captained by the fearsome and notorious Gasparilla. He intends to auction her off in Captiva, but he'll have to get her there first.
A feisty spitfire with a duty to her dying father, Emma isn't about to be snatched away from her home and everything she loves without a fight.
When she wakes inside the ship's belly, she makes sure her objections are made loud and clear—and that noise brings attention. The first man on scene is the captain himself, and with him he brings warm memories of a too-brief encounter on the cobblestone streets of Philadelphia.
Try as she might to despise her captor, subtle flirtation erupts into a burning electricity, becoming far too intense to ignore. She doesn't know what to think, but she knows one thing for certain: she didn’t come here by choice. She was a captive.
And in the face of that, does anything else really matter?
Jose Gaspar watched from the window as a line of transport wagons made their way into the Gaspar family estate. Well-known dignitaries stepped out of their carriages and walked into the house, where a butler waited at the door to escort them to the ballroom. His sixty-year-old father, Mr. Gaspar, was the heir to his late grandfather’s fortune made from the booming coal mining industry. As the family stories went, his father increased his grandfather’s wealth, making business connections with other noble families. Father told him about how he fell in love with a beautiful young woman from the neighboring town and married her. Mother bore him three children, two girls and a boy. Father was especially enthused when they had him. He was his father’s pride and joy, his father’s heir. Whatever he wanted, his father made sure to provide for him, especially if it aligned with what his father wanted for him. His father was proud when he learned Jose, at twenty years old, had joined the navy of His Majesty King Charles III.
Jose was a strong, diligent, hardworking, and intelligent man, so it was no surprise to those who knew him when he quickly rose through the ranks of the navy, landing as first lieutenant to the crown prince. None, however, was as proud or as happy as his father. In his honor, he was throwing a party tonight to celebrate this achievement and had invited all his friends and business associates.
Jose made his way down the stairs in his navy uniform. With his hair slicked back and tamed and his mustache trimmed, he was quite a dashing gentleman. Enough people had told him that, so it must be true.
His mother held his father’s arm as they walked around the room, greeting their guests. His sister, Gloria, was up in her old bedroom resting her feet. She was pregnant with her first child after being married for nearly a year. She often told Jose how nervous she was about becoming a new mother. She had come over so their mother could help her with the pregnancy and birth. His youngest sister could be seen sneaking some food out of the kitchen to the back garden. At twelve years old, the girl was peculiar and quite different from her older siblings, and Jose never knew what she would get into next.
He smiled at a friend he recognized in the crowd, but before he could make contact, his father whisked him away to introduce him to some more of his associates. Jose made the obligatory small talk. From the corner of his eye, he caught glimpses of his younger sister, Sofia, sneaking out of the house again and disappearing out the back door.
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” He shook their hands before leaving the men and followed his sister, who he found sitting on the far side of the garden with a young servant girl.
“Sofia,” he called out. “What is this, then?”
“Oh, sit down, Jose, before you call attention to us,” she said.
“What’s going on?” he asked, looking at the other girl, who appeared to be only a couple of years older than Sofia.
“She’s running away,” Sofia said. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”
“Running away?” he repeated. “But why?”
“See, she’s fallen pregnant and needs to leave before it becomes evident. I was helping her with some food for the road.”
“I don’t understand. Why does the father not claim her and the child?”
“She refuses to say who the father is, but I assume it to be a married man— someone who can’t claim either of them. She can’t stay here with a child. You know the fate that would befall her if anyone was to know she was an unwed mother. Brother, help her, will you? Help her run. You have more resources than I have to aide her.”
“Sophia, she belongs to our father. Helping her escape would be akin to stealing from him. You can’t expect me to break the law, not in my position.”
“You may be a noted military, Jose, but you’re also a good man.” She added a sweet smile, one that Jose could never turn down. “Please do help us, I beg of you.”
