Excerpt of A Pirate's Possession by Michelle Beattie

With each step down she paused to listen. It was only once she'd made it far enough to be able to close the hatch above her that she heard Nate's even and deep breathing. Her shoulders sagged. He was asleep. The hatch closed as silently as it had opened.

Since it had been dim above deck as well, her eyes didn't need time to accustom to the darkness. Recalling where she'd seen everything earlier, Claire crept toward the berth. She'd hoped she'd step on some clothing as it would mean she could simply search through his clothes for the map, but her feet hit nothing but smooth wood.

She only dared breathe in short, shallow breaths. Soon she was at the bedside, her heartbeat thumping loudly in her ears. It seemed as though he'd fallen asleep without meaning to, spread out over the blankets. He hadn't even taken off his jacket.

Claire wiped her quaking hands onto her pants, reminded herself to remain steady. She could do this. She had to do this.

He was sleeping on his back and his large hands were at his sides. His head was turned slightly away from her. The part of her that remembered what they'd meant to each other, or rather what she'd believed they'd meant to each other, wanted to linger. It wanted to trace the arch of his brows and feel the roughness of his beard. It wanted to once again be taken in his arms and to be cherished.

For God's sake, stop it, she scolded herself. The map, remember the map. Remember the lies, the hurt.

To that end, she deliberately kept her gaze off his face. Reaching forward, she slid her hand into the pocket of his jacket. Her fingers brushed against the paper and Claire's heart leapt to her throat. She had it!

She slowly pulled her hand away. When Nate didn't move, Claire exhaled a trembling breath.

She looked at him once more, had a moment when she wished things could have been different. But knowing they weren't, could never be, she backed away from the berth, tucked the folded map into her undershirt and turned for the ladder.

She got as far as the base of it before she was grabbed from behind.

The scream ripped from her throat.

"Goddammit, Claire," he swore as she thrashed to break free.

Her arms flailed wildly, desperate to connect with some part of him that would make him release her. Her elbow struck his chest. Her foot came down hard on his. Growling, he spun her around. Her right knee came racing up.

"No, you don't," he said as he deftly wrapped a large hand around the back of her knee and held it there, a mere breath away from where she'd intended to strike him. His other hand grabbed her left wrist and held it shackled down at her hip.

Luckily Claire was right-handed. Smiling sweetly, she aimed for his jaw.