My lungs compacted as a man stepped onto the beach. A huge mast of a man, dressed head to toe in black.

His hair was red, long around the ears, and wild like the wind. He wore a flowing shirt of silk, knee-high jackboots, and a cutlass that glinted in the sun.

Despite his ignoble attire, he radiated a lord-like bearing. Commanding in stance and purpose, he stalked toward me.

My knees wobbled beneath the storm of his surly eyes.

“A lovely young lass like you should pay better attention to her surroundings.” His long-legged strides devoured the distance between us. “You never know what might be lying in wait.”

My throat closed, too constricted to squeeze out a sound.

When I’d dismounted the horse, I hadn’t examined the perimeter or used my senses to probe for threats. In my excitement, I’d let my guard down.

The curve of his mouth descended, his face carved in stone, deeply tanned and infamously elusive.

The notorious Edric Sharp.

His visage was rendered on newspapers, edicts, and proclamations all over Charleston. They called him a pirate and offered a substantial reward for his capture.

I’d read every account of his description. Some said he was tall and mean. Others claimed he was scarred, bearded, and wore a peruke. Every word and sketched reproduction was created from the imaginations of artists who had never encountered him.

He was more handsome in person, more menacing. But I wasn’t afraid.

I was awestruck.

Sand crunched beneath his boots as he paused within arm’s reach. I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

A muscle bounced in his stony jaw. Then it spread to his lips, twitching at the corners. I waited for a break in his expression, and when a smile finally lit his eyes, I pounced on the seaman’s massive chest.

“Father!” I embraced his wide shoulders, squeezing with all my might.

“Aw, Bennett. I missed you.” He swung me up into the safety of his arms and buried his scratchy cheeks in my neck. “You must be more vigilant. Anyone could have sneaked up on you. Have I taught you nothing?”

“Forgive me. I was overcome with excitement. That’s no excuse, but Father, it’s been eight months. Please, don’t be upset with me.”

“Never, deary. Never that.”

I leaned back to reacquaint myself with his hardened features. My hands went to his jutting jaw, my fingers curling around the squared edges. All blunt angles and sun-darkened skin, his face still held its youth. And it’s smile.

That infectious smile widened, tickling wiry whiskers against my palms as I traced new crinkles around his wise eyes and touched the familiar gold ring in his ear.

His arms hugged me tighter, thick and muscular, and his boots spread wide beneath me as if bracing against the roll of the sea even now.