"So you can visit."
"Yes," she said. "You'll be away for weeks when you're at sea, but I'll give you money for a good staff."
"Better than those girls Mrs. Davis trains."
She shrugged. "You may hire them yourself. Train them yourself. I don't care if you have a hundred or five. I just don't want any of them there when I am present."
Decker plumped a pillow under his head and stared at her, fascinated. "I should have some sort of allowance."
It had occurred to her as well. "In addition to your wages I can pay you something quarterly out of my trust account. I have no idea how much that should be."
"I suppose it depends on how well I perform my duties," he said dryly.
Jonna shook her head. Her brow knit, and her mouth flattened seriously. "No, I don't think that should enter into it. I mean, there should be a standard amount you can count on to pay your employees and run the house, separate of what... separate of our... that is, not dependent upon..."
"My ability to pleasure you," he finished helpfully. Decker regretted putting out the lamp. The firelight was insufficient to see Jonna's flaming face. He had to be satisfied with imagining it.
She nodded in agreement and named a sum she thought he would require for his household and personal needs.
Decker just managed not to choke. "Aren't you afraid of making me a rich man?" he asked. "Then you'd have to marry me."
"I'd have to love you first, and I'd have to like you before that."
The verbal blow had the impact of a physical one, driving the breath from Decker's lungs. It was a moment before he could speak. "Then there's no danger of you accepting my proposal."
She turned her head toward him. His face was mostly in shadow, but she could make out his ice blue eyes regarding her steadily. "No danger," she said. "Were you going to make one?"
"I may have," he said. "In the event you found yourself pregnant."
Jonna managed to still her panic. "I wouldn't expect it," she said evenly.
"Good. Because I won't offer." He raised himself on one elbow. "This business of liking and loving has to be mutual, Jonna. I don't have many finer feelings where you're concerned, only baser ones." His hand snaked under the covers and found Jonna's wrist. He pulled her toward him, pinning her back when she struggled. His hands held her face so she couldn't look away. "Shall I tell you what I want?" he asked.
Caught between his hands, Jonna could only make a small nod.
Decker smiled. His eyes dropped to the ivory pendant between her breasts then came back to her. "Huntress, "he said. "I want your flag ship."
Chapter 8
Jonna simply stared at Decker. When there was no change in his expression, no relaxing of his hold on her gaze, she realized he was serious. She wedged her hands between their bodies, found leverage against his chest, and pushed hard. Even then she knew she was free because Decker allowed it.
He rolled over and lay back on the bed as Jonna sat up. He let her yank one of the blankets free and tuck it around her breasts. He sighed. "I suppose I should have made my terms clear at the outset."
"I suppose you should have," she said. "I'm not giving you Huntress. You can't really believe that is a reasonable request."
He shrugged. "I don't think that matters. It's what I want." He turned on his side, giving her his back. The discussion was over as far as he was concerned.
"I'm not going to change my mind," she said.
He plumped the pillow under his head and closed his eyes. "Go to sleep, Jonna."
The thing that surprised her was, she did.
* * *
Slim beams of light from a cold, white winter sun slipped through an opening in the drapes. Neither Decker nor Jonna stirred. She was comfortably cradled by his body, her bottom snug against his groin, his arm tucked under her breasts. Their breathing was soft, almost in unison. They shared the same pillow. In time they shared the same dream.
The need was mutual. It began with the heat that lingered where they touched. It was there at her breasts and at the backs of her thighs. He felt it run the length of him. The fragrance of her hair made him draw a deeper breath. The warmth of his breath made her turn her head.
They moved together, his mouth on her neck, her body stretching sleepily. He kissed her shoulder. Her hand moved along his thigh. Above his arm her breasts swelled slightly. At her back he was hard.
She turned, murmured something under her breath, and pressed against him. Her thighs parted and then he was inside her. Her mouth found his, and she kissed him deeply. Her hands caressed his shoulders. She rubbed against his chest to satisfy the ache in her breasts. Her thighs tightened as she felt him move.
There was no urgency yet. Positions changed slowly and the kisses were languorous. She rocked against him. Her slender frame stretched sinuously. She kissed the underside of his jaw, his throat. The edge of her tongue traced his collarbone. Her mouth was warm, and the hum of her pleasure caused a vibration just under his skin. He whispered her name, and there was heat now even where she didn't touch him.
She was under him, holding him with her thighs. She unfolded against him and ran her feet down the length of his legs. He arched, deepening his thrust. She sighed.
He moved in her slowly. His selfish pleasure satisfied them both. He kissed her breasts and took a nipple into his mouth. He tugged lightly with his teeth until she cried out softly.
It was his own name he heard. He opened his eyes and stared at her. She was watching him, alert now, as if she too had been awakened by the sound of her own voice. They said nothing. His head bent slowly, giving her time to avert hers. She didn't. Their mouths touched, just in a whisper at first, then deeply, hotly, and with purpose.
Awareness changed the rhythm of their joining. There was no sleepy arch to her body as he thrust into her this time, no light caress across his back. Jonna's heels dug into the mattress as she raised herself against him and her fingertips pressed whitely into his shoulders. He moved in her hard and she accepted him, accepted his urgency and need because it mirrored her own. She accepted the faint edge of anger which drove him now. She understood it, even embraced it. There was no denying that she wanted him. She only wanted to deny it. He was no different. Their bodies had betrayed them; the anger was there because their minds had not.
Tension pulled her body taut. Her throat arched. She closed her eyes as the first wave of pleasure shuddered through her and opened them again as she felt his.
Afterward she thought he would let her go. He didn't. He remained inside her a little longer, until their breathing slowed and their heartbeats settled. Even when he eased out of her he kept her close, laying an arm across her waist. She didn't try to move away. She didn't want to.
"This doesn't change anything," he said quietly. There was enough light in the room that he could see her face clearly now. He wondered how much longer they had before servants would intrude. "I want you, but I need Huntress. "
"You already command her," she said.
"I want to own her."
Jonna's eyes narrowed fractionally as she searched his features. There was an edge to his tone that hinted of something else. "We're still talking about the clipper, aren't we?"
Nothing in Decker's face changed. "What else?"
She tried to make out what he was thinking. His blue eyes were cool as his smile and just as impenetrable. "For a moment..." Her voice trailed off.
"Yes?"
She was mistaken, of course. He hadn't been speaking of her. "Nothing," she said. Uncomfortable, Jonna looked away. Over Decker's shoulder she could see the shifting pattern of white light on the walls. "I want to go to my own room."
"A few more minutes," he said. "This is the last time you'll be in my bed after all."
Jonna nodded and kept her eyes averted. She felt very much like crying. "Why is she so important to you?" she whispered.
"I could ask you the same thing."
"I built her," Jonna said.
&nb
sp; "You've built other ships." He shrugged. "You'll build more."
Perhaps she would, Jonna thought. But never would she put so much of herself into the design of a ship. She had started with a vision and a cause, and Huntress was built to serve both. "Not like Huntress," she said. "Never again."
Decker's fingers trailed lightly between Jonna's breasts. He picked up the ivory pendant and examined it as if for the first time. "She's like you, you know," he said. "Graceful. Proud. A bit aggressive." He felt her stiffen at that appraisal, but he didn't apologize or elaborate. "Her lines are your lines. Elegant. Fluid. She has character, and I think you meant her to. I think she has your spirit and your bravery and more than a little of your arrogance."
Jonna could hardly draw a breath. "You can't know that."
"I can feel it," he said. "Walking her deck is like having you under me. She rises up to meet me the way you do."
A rush of heat swept up from Jonna's breasts to her face.
She closed her eyes. There was a small shake of her head, but her denial had no voice.
Decker let the pendant drop. His fingertips brushed her cheek. "She's as responsive as you are," he said quietly. "She's quick and agile, and she knows her master."
That opened Jonna's eyes.
He was perfectly unmoved by her glare, but he rather liked the dimple at the corner of her mouth. "Responsive," he repeated, kissing her. "Just like Huntress."
Jonna ducked her head. He kissed the sensitive hollow at the back of her ear. "I can't give her to you," she said. She stared at the cold fireplace while his mouth settled on the curve of her neck. "If you believed what you were saying, you wouldn't ask for Huntress."
Decker's teeth nipped her skin lightly. "She's a ship, Jonna. She's like you. She's not you. I can't own you." He paused. "Can I?"
"No." She slid out from under him and dragged a sheet with her. "I'm not property," she said sharply, coming to her feet. She wrapped the sheet around her. "Of course you can't own me."
Decker sat up. "Give me Huntress," he said. "Prove that you know you can't own me either."
Jonna was quiet for a long time. She thought of why she had built Huntress, of the purpose it had yet to realize. She couldn't give it to Decker when it was intended for someone else. "I know I can't own you," she said. "I'm a Yankee trader, not a slaver. I told you my offer, and you refused it. And I can't pay what you ask. Huntress wasn't built for you." Jonna turned away to pick up Decker's dressing gown. She didn't see the grim smile that changed the shape of his mouth or brought an edge of frost to his eyes. She didn't hear him leave the bed or come up behind her. The first Jonna knew that Decker was at her back was when his hands came down on her shoulders and she was being turned around.
"Tell me," he said. There was nothing else he needed to say. He saw understanding flicker in her eyes.
She couldn't tell him the truth, so she told him what he expected to hear. The lie would assure that they would never be intimate again. "I think you already know," she said. "I built it for Colin."
Decker's hands dropped away. A moment ago they had been too close to her throat.
Jonna's gaze remained squarely on Decker's face. "I thought he would come back," she said. "I thought a ship like Huntress could put him on the sea again."
"In your bed, you mean."
"If you wish," she said almost graciously. It was an effort to shrug off the accusation, but Jonna managed it with careless elegance. She wondered if Decker knew how well he had taught her that attitude.
"He'll never leave Mercedes," Decker said.
"I think that's true." Jonna realized she was clutching his dressing gown in her fists. She loosened her grip and slipped it on. "We'll find out, won't we?"
Decker watched Jonna flinch as he raised his hand. He only used it to rake back his hair, but the truth was he had never been so close to striking a woman as he was at that moment. "Don't try it, Jonna. You won't like the consequences."
"You have no say in it."
"He's my brother."
"I've known him longer," she said. "And I've known him better."
Decker caught the lapel of the dressing gown in his fist and slowly pulled Jonna toward him. "Then think of him as a brother, Jonna. Not a lover."
He bent his head and kissed her hard. As a punishment it was more thoroughly humiliating than a slap. When he set her from him the sheet she had been wearing under the dressing gown was lying on the floor at her feet. Jonna rocked back on her heels. She stared at him mutely for a moment then fled the room.
It wasn't until she was in her own cold bed, waiting for her heartbeat to calm, that she realized he had stolen more than her confidence with that last kiss. He had stolen the ivory pendant.
Some part of Huntress was his after all.
* * *
It was Decker who decided they would visit Weybourne Park immediately after breakfast. He didn't invite Jonna's opinion on the matter. He simply announced his own, then left her to finish her meal in silence.
Jonna did not mind that the carriage ride was accomplished without conversation. As long as she was not forced to talk there was no chance she would take back anything she'd said the night before. Decker wouldn't have to know how his response to her lie had unsettled her. Jonna thought she might welcome never having to talk to him again.
Weybourne Manor was a formidable presence on the landscape. It had the monolithic power of a gray stone vault, and it seemed to rise higher out of the ground as their carriage approached. Snow frosted the north and south turrets and outlined the recessed windowsills. Glistening icicles hung from the slate roof, emphasizing the mansion's stark beauty.
Jonna turned away from the window as the carriage slowed. Decker was watching her. "This place is more like Colin than Mercedes," she said. "That's why you wanted me to see it, isn't it?"
"Yes," he said. "You should know all the reasons you can't tempt him to leave."
"He hasn't seen Huntress." Goaded by his arrogant smile, Jonna found the words were out before she had considered them. It was as if she had issued a challenge.
Decker raised a single eyebrow and nodded faintly, his expression implacable. He reached inside his outer coat to his vest and withdrew the ivory pendant. Holding it up, he said, "And he never will."
Jonna didn't try to take it back. The door to the carriage opened as Decker pocketed the piece. He jumped to the ground, then turned for her. His smile was in place, but it didn't touch his eyes. It was with a great sense of foreboding that Jonna put her hand in his.
Mercedes and Colin greeted them in the manor's great drawing room. Mercedes didn't rise as they entered. She had one child in her arms and another scrambling to be held in what remained of her lap. Laughing helplessly, she made her apologies.
It was Decker who rescued her, stealing both of his nieces as easily as he stole handkerchiefs. At just a year, Elizabeth fit neatly in the crook of his arm. She laughed and struck out with her small fists. Emma was more of a handful, but Decker expertly raised her to the height of his shoulder and perched her there.
Watching this, Jonna felt a surge of fear, but she saw that neither Mercedes nor Colin was particularly disturbed and the children were delighted. It didn't seem to matter that he was almost a stranger to them. They were easily engaged by his smile and his laughter and his nonsense chatter. So simply did they surrender to his roguish charm that Jonna counted them as Decker Thorne's latest conquests.
Decker introduced his nieces to Jonna with great ceremony. She had never held a child before and it was with some trepidation that she accepted Elizabeth. The baby's face screwed up immediately, reddened, and she let out a squall that made Jonna wince.
Mercedes whisked the baby away and scolded Decker. "That was very bad of him," she told Jonna as she soothed her daughter. "He thinks it's so very easy to placate them. He gives no thought to how hard it is for the rest of us."
Seeing Mercedes with her daughter, Jonna knew she was being kind. She made it appear as
effortless as Decker had. Elizabeth's face was no longer mottled with color, and she seemed quite content with her thumb in her mouth.
Decker hoisted Emma high in the air. The young girl's fine blond curls fluttered around her cherubic face. She giggled happily at her uncle's attention. "Mercedes," he said casually, swinging Emma up again, "I wonder if you would show Jonna the nursery, the whole house for that matter. I would like a moment with my brother."
Jonna felt blood rushing from her face. There was no subtlety here. Decker clearly wanted to be rid of her for a while. She looked from Mercedes to Colin and realized neither of them had reason to regard Decker's request suspiciously. Jonna considered that perhaps she was making too much of it. She and Decker had only just arrived at Weybourne Park. She had had no opportunity to seek out Colin alone, and more importantly, she had no intention of doing so.
Jonna felt a little weak in the knees. Decker didn't know she wouldn't be speaking to Colin about Huntress. She had taken great pains to make him think differently.
Mercedes held out her hand for Emma, but she was watching Jonna. "Perhaps Miss Remington has no interest in Weybourne Park," she told Decker. "I can just as easily ring for the children's nanny. You and Colin may speak in the library while we take tea here."
Jonna interrupted Decker's reply. She would never be able to mask her anxiety sipping tea with Mercedes. It would be better to have a distraction. "If Decker has not pressed too insistently on your hospitality, I would very much like to see all of your home. At first viewing from the road, I was struck that the manor seemed more like Colin than you. I doubt the same can be true of the inside."
Mercedes smiled at this observation. "Oh, my husband has made his mark here as well, but mostly it has been in his attention to the deep structure of the house." She took her older daughter's hand and hefted the younger one more comfortably in her arms. "Come. It will be a pleasure to show you what Colin has accomplished with the rooms in the north wing. I think you'll find the turret especially interesting."
Decker watched Jonna fall into step with Mercedes and the girls. He gave her full marks for pretending she was unconcerned by his desire to speak privately with Colin. He had noted her pale features and the fingers that nervously smoothed the silk skirt of her gown, but he had been looking for these things. It was clear that she had not expected him to remove her as a threat so early in their visit. What was less clear was whether she had any idea of the tack he intended to take.
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