The Captain's Caress

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The Captain's Caress Page 15

by Leigh Greenwood


  “Let’s not get too excited about it.” Brent gazed at her, his expression compounded of doubt and hope. “I don’t want you grinning at the crew, or encouraging them to indulge in foolish acts of heroism.”

  “I’d never do anything like that,” Summer said, indignantly. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”

  “I don’t know,” Brent said with unaccustomed gravity. “I begin to doubt that I ever had the least idea what you’re like.”

  “Well, it’s not very flattering for you to think I’d run about simpering at the crew.”

  “I humbly beg your forgiveness.”

  “I’ll bet this is the first time you’ve ever done that,” Summer marveled. “I’m surprised the words didn’t stick in your throat.”

  “I’d get down on my knees if that would convince you of my sincerity,” he responded, the twinkle in his eyes suddenly becoming more pronounced.

  “Don’t you dare,” she said quickly. “You’ve already given these men enough reason to whisper about me. I won’t let you give them more.”

  “If anyone dares say a single word—”

  “Don’t be stupid. Of course they won’t open their mouths around you. Nobody wants a broken head. But if you thought I could be on this ship for more than ten minutes, let alone ten weeks, and not give rise to all kinds of speculation, then you’re the one who’s naïve.”

  The significance of her words struck Brent for the first time. Smith thought it odd that a quick-witted man like the captain should have overlooked such a little thing, especially when it was so obvious to every man on the crew.

  “But there’s no point in crying over what can’t be helped,” Summer said pholosophically. “Now let’s go eat. I’m starving. I haven’t had any food all day.”

  “In that case, milady, allow me to escort you to the banquet so that the celebration may begin.”

  Brent took Summer by the arm and led her off most correctly, but his step had lost some of its jauntiness, his voice some of its insouciant gaiety.

  Chapter 17

  Summer stood at the bow of the ship, staring at the busy, sultry harbor of Havana. It was late in the year and the weather was not very hot, but the air was so rich with moisture it hung like a thick mantle over every living thing, wringing out energy and making each breath an unrewarding effort. Heat rose from the town in unending waves, and was carried out to the bay by a languid breeze which then sloughed off its unwanted burden.

  As Summer watched the slow-moving figures in the distance, she wished for the tenth time in the last five minutes that they were still out to sea where the air was clean and brisk. There, she had felt alive and invigorated even on warm days, but in the bay the air moved sluggishly. It came from land and bore the malodorous smell of filthy streets inhabited by clouds of the dreaded mosquitoes.

  Brent had gone ashore as soon as they’d dropped anchor, and the crew were industriously working to ready the cargo for unloading. It was now late in the afternoon and he still hadn’t returned, which made a discontented Summer even more unhappy that her unfettered days at sea had come to an end.

  “We might be gone for quite a while,” Brent had told her early that morning. “We have to find buyers and make arrangements for unloading the cargo. That’s not always easy to do quickly.”

  “Will you be back before lunch?” she asked with a sleepy yawn, thinking of curling up again as soon as he left.

  “Maybe, but most likely I won’t return until late tonight.”

  “Tonight?” she exclaimed. She sat up quickly, all thought of sleep forgotten. “You can’t leave me by myself all day.”

  “You won’t be by yourself,” he said, smiling indulgently. “Smith is the only one going with me.”

  “Can’t he stay?” she asked, not in the least reassured by the presence of the other officers.

  “He’s the one person I can’t do without,” Brent replied, not understanding how she could feel alone in the midst of his crew. “There’s nothing for you to worry about, and you’ll have the entire day to spend as you like. The ship is at your disposal.”

  “That’s not much of a temptation,” Summer retorted. She couldn’t steel herself to tell him there was nothing of interest to her on his blasted ship if he wasn’t aboard, not with her hair in her eyes and her thin nightgown twisted around her thighs.

  However, Brent didn’t seem to find her dishabille at all unattractive. “You’re a mighty big temptation,” he said, letting his fingers travel up her arms and then brush her cheeks. His eyes wandered over her body, lingering on the long slender leg and thigh not covered by her gown, but not neglecting the full curves of hips and breasts the thin fabric barely obscured. He let his fingers travel up her leg, from ankle to hem, causing her blood to begin to boil. “If I stay here any longer, I might not leave at all,” he whispered, his hot breath warming her ear.

  Summer pulled his head down onto her breasts. “I would like that,” she purred, but further words became caught in her throat as his hot lips touched the tender skin of her breasts and caused them to firm with excitement. Her body arched against him as the hand on her leg strayed between her thighs.

  “Damn, now I’m going to have to get dressed all over again,” he rasped, and quickly began to unbutton his shirt. But their swelling passion was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.

  “Blast and damn!” Brent cursed. “What the hell do you want?”

  “The boat is ready, Captain.” It was Smith’s voice.

  “Tell it to wait,” Brent replied, breathing heavily. “I’m not ready yet.”

  “It’s already in the water,” Smith answered. “Should I tell them pull it up again?”

  “I don’t care what you tell them.” Brent was torn between the mounting pressure of his physical desire and his duty to the ship.

  “I can’t understand you very well, sir,” droned Smith’s insistent voice.

  “I’ll be there in a minute, blast you,” Brent bellowed. “I’ve just got to button my shirt.” He wrenched himself away from Summer’s arms. They were both panting hard and their senses were throbbing painfully from unfulfilled promise. “I’ve got to go,” he said, beginning to rebutton his shirt. “You do understand, don’t you?” Summer nodded imperceptibly. “I’ll come back just as soon as I can.” He eyed her sprawling, half-naked figure with undisguised desire. “I’ve got some unfinished business that needs my attention.”

  “Don’t be gone all day, please,” she begged, giving him a weak smile.

  “I’ll try,” he promised, but Summer could tell that his passion was weakening with each button, her attraction fading before the pressure of his duties. “Now cover yourself up,” he said, straightening his cravat and reaching for his coat. “I don’t want Smith to see you lounging about so invitingly. At least one of us has to be able to keep business in mind.” Summer righted her gown and pulled the covers up to her chin.

  “Is this enough?” she asked a trifle pettishly.

  “Not unless you cover your face as well.” He leaned over to brush a lock of hair out of her face. “Even when you look like you’ve been riding in the back of a hay cart, you’re the most adorable, captivating women I’ve ever known.”

  “Since I can’t keep you here for a few minutes, that’s not saying much for the other women you’ve met. Unless there were farm girls riding in those carts you were talking about.”

  “Silence, you abandoned hussy,” he said, giving her clearly outlined backside a playful slap. “I never consorted with farm girls, with or without a cart.”

  “Then don’t let me keep you from your highbred ladies any longer,” she said, turning her back on him. “They must be biting their nails in impatience.”

  “I believe you’re jealous, my sweet.” An impish smile lighted his face when she angrily flipped over to face him.

  “Me!” she sputtered. “Why should I be jealous of some olive-skinned seductress with bloodred lips and jet black hair?”

  “Wh
en did you meet Consuelo?” Brent exclaimed, simulating surprise. “I thought you said you never left your father’s plantation.”

  “You devil!” she spat at him. “How dare you imply that I keep company with the likes of your abandoned hussies.”

  “It surprised me, but you described Consuelo so exactly I thought you must have seen her. She moves in the very best circles.”

  “I have no desire to meet her or to know anything about the circles she inhabits, no matter how exalted.”

  “Surely you don’t plan to stay in your hotel room the whole time we’re in Havana?”

  “Of course not. Why should I?”

  “You’ll have to, if you’re set on avoiding all the women I’ve met. In fact,” he added, a wicked glint in his eyes, “you’d better pull the sheet over your head when the maid comes in with your morning cocoa.”

  “You’re a depraved, unnatural lecher,” she charged, now goaded to fury. “Get out of my cabin this very minute. I don’t want to set eyes on you again. You’re a conceited, overbearing devil and the most black-hearted monster I’ve ever met.”

  “That’s the second time today you’ve tried to throw me out of my cabin,” he said, approaching the bed again. Summer rolled as far away from him as she could. “I’m going to have to teach you that it’s not good manners to treat your host so rudely.”

  “You’re a pirate, not my host,” she flung at him. “And you’re the last person on earth to have a right to criticize anyone’s bad manners. You are the rudest and most insolent person I know.”

  Brent leaned over the bed to make a grab for her but Summer scrambled out of his reach. “You won’t escape me that easily, you little hornet,” he said grimly, and climbed onto the bed. Summer shrieked and tried to fight him off with balled-up fists and kicking feet, but Brent easily overpowered her. He held her down, wrists pinned on either side of her head. “Now my little spitfire, you listen to me.”

  “No.” Summer rolled her head from side to side. “I won’t listen to a single word. You’ll probably lie anyway.”

  “I don’t know anyone named Consuelo, and you won’t meet the women I’ve made love to at every corner. Most definitely the maid who brings your cocoa is not one of them.”

  “I don’t believe you. You’re such a horny beast you couldn’t leave any woman alone.”

  “I never said I was a monk,” Brent said angrily, “but I’m selective about my women.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought you could spare the time. Do you question them yourself, or does Smith interview them first?”

  “You spiteful little jade. I’ve never seen anyone so ready to fly into a jealous fit over the slightest thing.”

  “If you call throwing armloads of mistresses at me after the way you’ve treated me these last few weeks a slight thing, then you’re the vilest man in creation.” Summer worked one of her legs free and gave him a painful jab in the ribs with her knee.

  Brent was really angry now. “You intemperate bonehead. If you can’t tell the difference between the way I’ve treated you and disinterested lust, then you’re a featherbrained nitwit worth no more than a roll in the hay and a kiss goodbye.”

  Summer tried to kick him again, but Brent threw his whole body on hers and held her helpless beneath him.

  “Get off me, you tyrant. You can go to all the almond-eyed whores you can find and stay as long as you like. I’m sure I don’t mind. I probably won’t even notice.” She tried to bite him, but he moved out of reach.

  “I don’t know why I don’t throw you overboard.” He held her two hands in one of his, her chin with the other. “If you weren’t such a cuddly little armful, I would consider it.” He released her chin and let his fingers explore her breasts. “But it would be a shameful waste.”

  “You’re diabolical,” she hissed, “and I hate you.”

  “You’re beautiful,” he said roughly. The passion in him was stirring again, rushing to enslave his senses. His hot lips began to nibble one breast while his free hand caressed the other.

  “Let me go!” she gasped, trying to push him away and at the same time trying to stave off the surge of desire flooding through her. “You’re nothing but a low, rutting animal.” She tried to twist away, but he held her fast and drove his knee between her legs, further immobilizing her and fanning the flames that licked at her resistance.

  “Get your hands off me,” she cried, but her words sounded more like an invitation than a dismissal, and Brent only redoubled his efforts. Summer made one final attempt to escape, but her heart wasn’t in it, and she suddenly capitulated, throwing her legs around Brent and hungrily kissing the top of his head. He tore his lips away from her nipples to return her kiss, savaging her mouth with his, ransacking its far recesses with his tongue. When he released her hands, she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him to her with all her might. And his hands flew to his clothing, tearing off buttons and ripping seams in his haste to be free of any restriction.

  “Captain Douglas.” It was Smith’s long-forgotten voice. “The men have been waiting in the boat for more than twenty minutes.”

  “You can take that goddamned boat and row it straight to hell!” Brent roared. “I’m not leaving until I’m good and ready.” He turned back to Summer and the business at hand.

  Chapter 18

  “But I can’t just walk in on your arm,” Summer said for the sixth time. “I might as well announce that I’m your mistress.”

  Brent, the insensitive egotist, couldn’t understand why she wasn’t eager to march straight into the biggest hotel in Havana with him as though he were her brother. He stared at her as if she were crazy, then turned a deaf ear to her protests.

  “Nobody’s going to think any such thing,” he said. “This is not London or Madrid.”

  “Have you ever taken a woman to a hotel?” she asked indignantly before she had time to realize what a stupid question that was.

  “Lots of times.”

  “I don’t mean some trollop,” she snapped, trying to control her irritation. “I mean a respectable woman.”

  “All my women are respectable.”

  “Then I suppose you spent the night in separate suites?”

  “What do you think I took them to the hotel for?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean. Respectable women don’t stay in hotels unless they’re properly chaperoned, not even in Havana.”

  “Well, you can’t stay on the ship. It’s not safe.” Brent reached out and pulled her over to him. “I couldn’t trust any man alone with you,” he said huskily.

  “Don’t judge everyone by yourself.” She removed his hands from her waist. “What’s wrong with my staying here?”

  “I have to meet with buyers in the city, and I’ll be much too busy to row back every night to check on you.”

  “You don’t have to come back. I’ll be perfectly safe with Smith.”

  “Good Lord, girl! After six months at sea, would Smith, or anybody else in their right mind, want to stay on this ship with the whole city of Havana open to him?”

  “Somebody has to stay here.”

  “Those aboard won’t have time to take care of you,” Brent stated in a manner that clearly ended the discussion.

  “If you had brought Bridgit along, you could go anywhere you wanted without my being a stone around your neck.”

  “I’ve never felt that way about you, and you know it.”

  “No I don’t,” she said, hoping he would tell her exactly how he did feel. “What am I supposed to think when all you do is bark orders at me?”

  He looked at her standing in the early morning sun, the rays shining on her still-bare shoulders, and he knew she would never understand why the mere sight of her made him more determined than ever to keep her by his side.

  “The only way I can stay in that hotel with you and keep a decent reputation is as your wife.”

  “You’ll have to think of something else. I can’t have you married to two men at once.”r />
  “Would my being married make any difference to you as long as my husband doesn’t interfere?” she asked, greatly interested in his reply.

  “It makes a great deal of difference, especially when your husband is Gowan.” The thought of Summer in Gowan’s arms caused the muscles across Brent’s shoulders to become so rigid they strained the seams of his shirt. For a moment his hatred of the earl blocked out all awareness of Summer; he stared beyond her with a look of dogged determination that would have told any member of his crew the captain had made up his mind. And when that was so, there was no turning him from his course.

  “He is my husband after all,” Summer said. “I don’t see what you can do to stop him if he decides he wants me back.”

  “He won’t,” Brent declared, abruptly returning from his thoughts. “Gowan never bothers with people who can’t be of any use to him.” Summer was irked to learn that Brent thought Gowan valued her so lightly he wouldn’t make an attempt to find her. Yet the thought that Gowan might actually come after her frightened Summer so badly she would have swallowed any number of insults rather than face her lawful husband.

  “If you don’t get into that dress, I’m going to carry you ashore in your shift.” Brent was impatient to be gone. He eyed her inviting curves and again felt desire stir in him. “It would certainly brighten the boatmen’s morning, but I’d prefer your arrival to be less spectacular.”

  “I’ll just take a minute more,” Summer said. She was provoked but had given up on swaying him.

  The ride to shore was hot and uncomfortable. The small boat pitched until Summer thought she was going to be ill.

  “It’s pretty rough,” Brent sympathized, “but it won’t last long.”

  “It’s lasted too long already,” she replied, trying to keep her mind off the stench of the harbor. Her head, covered by the wide-brimmed hat Brent had insisted she wear, hung listlessly to one side. He had not missed the glances of the animal-like men who worked the docks. It was the presence of such men that had led him to decide it was unsafe for her to stay on the ship.

 

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