Hidden Attraction
Soaking wet and trying not to shiver, eighteen-year-old Elizabeth Swann stood in front of the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow, her hands clenched. The foundations of her childhood fantasies were crumbling around her, whipped away by the strong Caribbean wind.
"Are you the pirate I've read about or not?"
He didn't answer her. He simply stared, his weary, dark eyes roaming her pale face, his black hair fluttering around his own bronzed complexion. The wind and the dampness pasted his billowing white shirt to his lean form, and his open collar revealed scars against smooth golden skin. This was certainly how she had imagined him.
"How did you escape last time?"
And he told her. For a moment, she was almost willing to take the bottle of rum he slapped into her hand and down it, just to forget she had ever admired the weak-willed scoundrel before her.
