The Running Game

By Meg Harding

There's something to be said about great adventure, an impossible moment in time when everything falls into place. This is undoubtedly her impossible moment.

Some people just don't have any luck. On the run from her murderous fiancé and a very angry father, Irene is pretty sure her luck can't get any worse. After all what's worse than being the lone woman stuck on a cargo ship headed to the Americas? How about getting captured by pirates as her money and only shot at freedom sink to the bottom of the ocean? Not that she ever could have anticipated that.

Oliver is a man burdened with a great amount of luck and a fine sense for all things adventurous. Holding up one little cargo ship isn't supposed to give him much more than a few bits of gold and some excitement. Who could have anticipated the spitfire on board who would turn his world inside out?

Things are about to get messy as Irene tramples all over Oliver's image of a proper lady and sets about showing him just how much trouble one little woman can truly cause. Oliver has never enjoyed an adventure so much.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
• Release date: Jul 11, 2014
• ISBN: 9781784300753

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A Totally Bound Publication

The Running Game

ISBN # 978-1-78430-075-3

©Copyright Meg Harding 2014

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright June 2014

Edited by Jennifer Douglas

Totally Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2014 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Sizzling and a Sexometer of 1.

Jolly Rogered

THE RUNNING GAME

Meg Harding

There’s something to be said about great adventure, an impossible moment in time when everything falls into place. This is undoubtedly her impossible moment.

Some people just don’t have any luck. On the run from her murderous fiancé and a very angry father, Irene is pretty sure her luck can’t get any worse. After all what’s worse than being the lone woman stuck on a cargo ship headed to the Americas? How about getting captured by pirates as her money and only shot at freedom sink to the bottom of the ocean? Not that she ever could have anticipated that.

Oliver is a man burdened with a great amount of luck and a fine sense for all things adventurous. Holding up one little cargo ship isn’t supposed to give him much more than a few bits of gold and some excitement. Who could have anticipated the spitfire on board who would turn his world inside out?

Things are about to get messy as Irene tramples all over Oliver’s image of a proper lady and sets about showing him just how much trouble one little woman can truly cause. Oliver has never enjoyed an adventure so much.

Dedication

To my mother and poppy who have been nothing but supportive.

Chapter One

Fate had it out for Irene.

The ship was rocking beneath her feet, bouncing her like a ball from one spot in her cramped cabin to another. Her stomach roiled and sweat beaded on her temples as she desperately tried to get a grip. The sound of cannon fire and the clash of swords rang around her, filtering through the walls and making her heart race.

Her father’s men had come for her. Or maybe her fiancé’s. Neither was a bright prospect but she wouldn’t be going back, not a chance in hell. If she could just get her bearings she could make her way topside and endeavor to find a way off this godforsaken ship and away. Far, far away. That’s if they didn’t accidentally kill her first.

Really, she wondered, isn’t the fighting all a bit much? Overkill for sure. Stupid men. Her stomach churned something fierce as she was thrown into the desk—which was bolted to the floor—her hip slamming painfully into one sharp edge. Pain shot all through her leg, but she stubbornly pushed away and once again resumed her mission.

Eventually she thought she would make it to the door.

Her skirts swirled around her legs, just adding to her many problems. They twisted and confined and all around made her job harder, tripping her up when she could finally gain some footing.

Not a moment later, the whole ship shuddered and she was thrown violently to her knees. She started to stand, thought for a moment then decided that it couldn’t hurt. So she began to crawl toward the door, hands and knees on the rough wood floor, more stable than on just her two incompetent feet.

She made it to the door. ’Twas a miracle.

With the knob as a crutch, she hauled herself up then swung it open before tripping her way through and slamming it shut behind her. The hall was narrow, allowing her hands to touch each side with no problem. She used them to pull herself forward and keep from falling right onto her face.

The stairs were much the same, though a little trickier, and she had moments when she thought for sure she was done for and backwards she would go. Thank the Lord that didn’t happen. She just wasn’t in the mood for a tumble.

There wasn’t time.

The shouts grew louder as she came on deck and the noise was quite deafening. Men ran to and fro, swords brandished and yelling unintelligibly. She ignored them. She was trying to remember just where she had seen the extra rafts and thought it might have been in and around the quarter deck.

Hopefully.

Off she went, stumbling the whole way and praying that a stray cannon ball wouldn’t take her out. She hadn’t come this far to die.

In the end, it wasn’t a stray cannon ball that took her out. Not even a misplaced sword or knife. It was a ridiculously fat man who propelled himself into her much like a cannon ball would have.

Over she went, her head making nice, hard contact with the wood beneath her and the breath leaving her in an almighty rush. She fluttered her hands against her chest trying to calm the wheezing and bring in air somehow. Her ribs felt tight and she was mildly glad the idiot had managed to land himself a little way away from her. She quite feared that had he landed on her, she would have been squashed.

It