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precocious four and Lissa a very serious thirteen.
    “Take Sam,” Janey had sniffled via phone. “He knows everything I know and he’s in-between gigs.”
    Sam was a musician. He played guitar and sang beautifully. Lissa always wondered why Sam and Janey just didn’t date and get it over with.
    Ten years younger, Sam was tall and lean and cute. He had wavy blond hair and green eyes that blinked owlishly out her from behind horn-rimmed spectacles. If he lost his glasses and his penchant for khakis and dress shirts he never tucked in, he could be mistaken for a surfer.
    Instead he looked studious, which he was, and absent-minded, which he wasn’t.
    “You wanted to experience the Golden Age of piracy. This place is as close as you’re going to get.” He heaved his laptop bag over his shoulder, gripping his suitcase in one hand and hers in the other. “Let’s check in.”
    Lissa held her own laptop and her make-up case. Following her enthusiastic charge to the counter, she sighed. Sometimes, Sam was like a big puppy. She could hardly remember having the exuberance that seemed part and parcel of those still enjoying their twenties. Or maybe it was just Sam who never seemed to tire. She had discovered that there was no fact he couldn’t unearth, no request he couldn’t make happen, and no task he couldn’t do.
    The only person who made a better assistant was Janey. She depended on her sister absolutely. Janey made her life as an author bearable, shouldering all the necessary but unpleasant tasks that took away from her writing time. She no longer dreaded book tours because Janey was there: her support, her friend, her conscience.
    “It’s a two-bedroom suite,” said Sam, breaking into her thoughts. “Top floor, ocean view. Is that okay?”
    “Yeah,” said Lissa. “You said there’s a real pirate’s cove here?”
    “I’ve already rented the schooner,” he said, smiling. “The captain will take us to all the hot spots, including the cove. There’s also a shipwreck in shallow water that we can scuba dive.”
    Lissa stared at his lips. He had a wonderful mouth. Oh! Her cheeks heated at the inappropriate direction of her thoughts. Sam was like her little brother and she’d been having not-so-brotherly thoughts about him. Lately, her libido had been … well, kinda frisky.
    “Lissa?”
    “Uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s great.”
    Embarrassed, she turned away. The clerk handed over her credit card and said, “Let us know if you need anything else, Ms. McClaskey. It’s our pleasure to serve you.”
    “Thanks.”
    They headed toward the bank of elevators on the right side of the check-in counter.
    “Is everything okay?” asked Sam.
    Lissa worked up a smile and met his gaze. God, he was adorable. “Everything’s terrific.”
     
    “L ET ME GUESS. You’re suffering from Jack Sparrow syndrome.”
    Lissa looked up from her sweating Seven and Seven. The blonde bartender, whose nametag read Wench Wendy, leaned on the polished wood bar and smiled. It was five o’clock in the evening, too late for afternoon liberations and too early for dinner drinks. The hotel bar, called Kidd’s Kavern, was practically empty.
    “Jack Sparrow? From Pirates of the Caribbean ?” Lissa grinned. That was one of her all-time favorite movies. In fact, she loved any story that put pirates in a romantic light. She knew from her research that pirates were bloodthirsty and ruthless, but they also knew how to have a good time.
    “We get a lot of ladies who want to get swept off their feet by Johnny Depp.” Wendy laughed.
    “Don’t I know it.” Lissa tapped the edge of her glass. “Can I have another one?”
    Wendy poured Crown Royal into a glass and added a shot of 7-Up. After she slid the drink to Lissa, she grabbed a towel and started buffing the bar. “So, what do you do?”
    “I write historical romance novels,” said Lissa. “You ever hear of the Pirate Prince series?”
    Wendy shook her head. “Sorry. I get all the