Sea of Christmas Miracles Read Online Free

old Jack Blackstone, the
bloodthirsty pirate, had to deal with such from his captives,”
Thomas said.
    Margaret had heard the story of Thomas
Blackstone’s ancestor while she was in Charleston waiting to see
him. It had helped give her the idea to kidnap Thomas.
    “Of course if family lore is correct he only
kidnapped his wife. My great, great grandfather did the same,”
Thomas continued. “Are you turning the tables and trying to kidnap
yourself a husband?”
    Her eyes shot to his, her jaw dropping
slightly when she noticed his grin. “Certainly not.” With crisp
movements she straightened her skirt. She tried to sit on the seat
opposite him, but the crash of a wave against the boat sent her
plopping back. Thomas caught a glimpse of slender calves and ankles
before she jerked up, red-faced. The hat was gone, and a cascade of
chestnut brown curls fell from the small, twisted knot of hair atop
her head.
    Thomas’s smile deepened.
    Goodness. Margaret stared at her captive as
she tried to pull the bruised edges of her pride back into place.
She certainly could believe the blood of pirates ran through his
veins. His dark hair was tousled above the bandage she’d wrapped
about his head, his grin was wicked, and she wished he weren’t so
sinfully handsome. She almost expected to see a gold hoop glitter
in his ear. There was just one thing she wasn’t sure of. Did
pirates have dimples? Because Thomas Blackstone certainly did.
    She never noticed them before. But then she
never saw his smile before. Remembering that his humor now was at
her expense, Margaret tried to ignore how he looked. She must think
of the children.
    Margaret grabbed hold of the tiller, trying
to keep their course straight down the Carolina coast. “I don’t
think kidnapping is acceptable, you know,” she said when he
continued to stare at her. Margaret ignored his cocked brow. “It’s
not as if I didn’t try other means of getting in touch with you
first.”
    “The letters.”
    “Yes, the letters.” Margaret didn’t care for
his skeptical tone. “I sent more than a dozen over the past two
months and received no reply.”
    Thomas shrugged. “Your name isn’t the least
familiar to me.” She gave a snort that he would have found
amusing—if he weren’t being kidnapped. He turned his mind toward
serious arguments against what she’d done. “Regardless there are
other ways of communicating with someone, Maggie.” Thomas couldn’t
explain why he continued calling her that, except that he enjoyed
needling her. “Ways that do not involve a gun or ropes.” Thomas
gave the cords binding his hands a frustrated tug.
    Margaret straightened her shoulders, and
lifted her chin. “I tried other ways. Getting an appointment with
you was nigh impossible. A Mister Wilson refused to schedule me
before February.” She bundled her coat more tightly around her as
the wind licked at her hair.
    “That would be the same Mister Wilson you
sent home last night.” His voice was more skeptical than
before.
    “Yes, it is. Apparently, Mister Blackstone,
your secretary expects you to have your share of lady visitors.”
Her tone was disapproving. “He was only too happy to leave you
alone with me.”
    “I see.” Thomas cocked his head to the side
and gave her a thorough examination, wondering what Wilson thought
when this particular woman entered his office. “Tell me, Maggie,”
he began, smiling slightly. “Were you wearing those spectacles when
you spoke with Wilson?”
    Margaret looked away, concentrating on
keeping the small craft on course. She didn’t want to think about
using her questionable feminine wiles to bamboozle the secretary.
She liked to think herself above such things. But she had removed her glasses, and her coat before approaching Wilson.
It had seemed preferable to tying him up.
    Margaret waited until the boat lifted out of
the watery trough it had splashed into before changing the subject.
“I also tried to speak with you on the