He couldn’t wait to get out to sea again. At least there, he could think straight. Breathe easy. Make sense of his thoughts.
As he stepped over the bulwark and onto the back deck, a short, grizzled-haired figure strutted out from the wheelhouse. “Ca va, Mitch. How you makin’?” Remy, his long-time employee who usually captained the Lady Jeanette, sauntered to the back deck with a wide grin.
A tiny inset diamond glittered between his front teeth. This newest affectation never failed to amuse Mitch. The ugly, swarthy, ponytailed son of a gun was determined to draw the ladies’ eyes. It seemed he’d found a surefire way. “You have your wife wit’ you?” Remy asked, gazing curiously toward the tinted windows of the van.
“Don’t call her my wife. If you’re talking about Camryn, yeah. I have her.”
Remy muttered a Cajun epithet about her to show moral support for Mitch, as his family often did. Not that Mitch encouraged hostile feelings toward her. Everyone in his tight-knit community knew she’d stolen his daughter, though. Many thought she’d also broken his heart. No one would forgive her those sins any time soon.
Except, perhaps, Remy. The middle-aged seaman always took joy in beautiful women. If he hadn’t proved his loyalty over the years, Mitch wouldn’t have included him in this voyage. Although Remy would take endless delight in Camryn’s company, Mitch knew he’d help deliver her to the Terrebonne Parish authorities. To Remy, duty and loyalty to his captain at sea always came before pleasure. He was one of Mitch’s best men.
“And your fille…you found her, too, eh?”
Mitch nodded and glanced out over the glistening, pickle-green water of the cove, not wanting to talk about his daughter. Too many emotions clashed within him. For six months he’d agonized, wondering where Arianne was, whom she was with, how she was being treated. His relief at finding her washed through him in overwhelming tides, but his anxiety still burned. Though she seemed to have come through the ordeal okay, he couldn’t be sure she hadn’t suffered.
And his need to see her, hold her, reestablish his connection with her, hadn’t yet been filled. He’d caught only a glimpse of her in Camryn’s garage before Joey had whisked her away—a precaution Mitch had insisted on. In case some well-meaning lawman interrupted his plans for taking Camryn to Louisiana, he wanted Arianne safe at home with his family. He also saw no sense in exposing her to the inevitable animosity between her mother and him. He would not intentionally add to his daughter’s distress.
All he could do now was hope that Joey and a long-time family friend had a safe trip back to Terrebonne Parish. If anyone could calm a distressed baby, it was Joey. She’d have her smiling in no time.
Wishing he could be there to see it, Mitch swept his gaze distractedly over the neat back deck of the shrimp boat. “Are we ready to go, Remy?”
“Mais, oui, Cap’n.” A frown etched deep grooves in his forehead. “Da boat’s ready, yes, but…”
“And your deckhands found transportation home?”
“Dey went out wit’ another boat last night. But—”
“Then fire up the engine while I get the rest of our, uh, crew.” Mitch turned away, deliberately ignoring the protest he knew Remy would make about leaving the dock today. He was in no mood to argue. And since Mitch was acting as captain on this trip, Remy would concede to his wishes.
Mitch himself would breathe a lot easier when he had his wily prisoner safely offshore…on his turf, so to speak. She couldn’t cause much trouble out there.
As he disembarked from the boat and strode back toward the van, though, he suddenly wasn’t too sure of that. She probably could cause trouble if she put her mind to it. She obviously had depths to her character that he hadn’t seen before.
Maybe it was time to change his strategy in dealing with her. Maybe he should follow her lead and play the game her way. If she believed herself to be winning him over, she’d be less likely to try something rash at sea. After all, if hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, he didn’t want to court that fury while captaining the Lady Jeanette.
He’d simply have to hide his scorn. He’d treat her with the respect he’d show any woman—under normal circumstances—and engage her in conversation. He’d even play along with her amnesia tale if she persisted in it. Maybe he could get her talking. The more he knew about her life since she’d left him, the better prepared he’d be in court. And, of course, the more she talked, the better chance he had of tripping her up in the lie.
Before they reached port in Terrebonne Parish, he’d give her plenty of rope to hang herself.
KATE NOTICED a subtle difference in him the moment he returned to the van. It had to do with the open, friendly way he met her gaze as he settled into the back seat beside her and the warmer tone of his voice when he addressed her. “The boat’s ready. The weather’s holding out. The sea is calm. We should have a pretty smooth start to our trip.” He almost smiled at her. Though his mouth didn’t actually curve, the very end tilted slightly upward. His new amiability was enough to make her gape at him. “Let’s go.”
Darryl muttered something agreeable in the front seat, gathered things together and climbed from the van.
Kate scooted across the seat toward the door, her mind reeling. She’d barely recognized Mitch without his usual hostility and coldness. He seemed years younger, and a thousand times more…civilized. What had caused the change in his demeanor? Maybe the fact that they’d soon be out to sea, and on their way to “his neck of the woods.”
Regardless of what had caused the difference, she devoutly welcomed it. She hadn’t realized until this moment how much she’d been longing for a break from the anger directed at her. She simply wasn’t used to being treated with hostility. Even if his pleasantness went no deeper than common courtesy, she welcomed the comparative warmth like a flower starving for sunlight.
When she reached the doorway where Mitch stood, Kate peered at him to see if she’d imagined the softening in his attitude. This time, he smiled. A slow, lazy smile—one that bracketed his mouth with deep dimples and emphasized the vertical cleft in his square chin; one that lit golden highlights in his eyes, like sunshine glinting on a dark green sea.
Kate roused herself from a sudden stupor to realize her heart was pounding and her breathing had stopped. Good heavens, his smile transformed him. He had to be one of the most handsome, sexiest men she’d ever seen—all rough-hewn masculinity, sun-bronzed flesh, contoured muscle…with a breathtaking smile, yet. Even the laugh lines fanning from the corners of his green eyes added a rugged appeal.
“I’ve been a little…brusque, haven’t I?” he said.
Still dazed from his smile, she blinked, unsure she’d heard him correctly.
The smile mellowed into one of thoughtful contrition. “Camryn, I’m sorry for how I treated you today. I shouldn’t have been so…rough. I guess I overreacted.”
Astonishment left her momentarily speechless. He was apologizing. When she found her voice, all she thought to utter was “Y-yes.”
“We have a serious matter to settle, but there’s no reason we can’t act civilized while we settle it.”
“Civilized,” she repeated, nodding in wholehearted agreement and tenuous relief. Surely a man who looked you straight in the eye and apologized with
