Love Song For A Raven

by Elizabeth Lowell

  Janna’s eyes opened wide as she understood. She faced Raven and saw echoes of pain in the tight lines bracketing his mouth. She remembered what he had said: Sometimes kindness doesn’t get it done. Now she understood his words. „You deliberately made yourself a target, didn’t you?“

  There was a heartbeat’s pause before Raven’s deep voice said, „Yes.“

  „And she hated you for it.“

  Raven nodded.

  „Didn’t she ever understand why you did it?“

  „She understood right away,“ he said, setting plates, forks and oyster crackers on the table. „Forgiveness took longer. Years.“

  „You loved her,“ Janna said. She was motionless, watching Raven intently, and she was afraid in a way that she didn’t understand.

  „Yes.“

  „You still love her.“

  Raven smiled gently to himself as he shifted oysters onto Janna’s plate. „Of course. Angel loves me, too, now. You’d like her,“ he said, looking up. „Like you, she’s a warrior of the heart. She fought her way against terrible odds and won life and love. A beautiful woman in every sense of the word.“

  Janna looked into her wineglass and wished it were a sea deep enough to drown in. The fear and despair she felt were worse than they had been at the moment she had found herself trapped beneath the sinking boat. Her body had been cold then. Now the cold went all the way to her soul.

  Fear. She was very much afraid that she had fallen in love with Raven, a man who loved someone else. Knowing the source of her fear didn’t make her any less afraid. It simply made her understand her fear. She had lost something before she even had a chance to win it.

  „Why aren’t you married to Angel?“ Janna asked flatly.

  Raven gave her a swift, sideways look, then smiled. „Canada takes a dim view of bigamy.“

  „You’re married to someone else?“ Janna asked, her head snapping up, shock clear on her face.

  He laughed and shook his head. „No. Angel is though, and very happily.“ He sipped the wine before adding quietly, „Derry and I helped Angel to survive, but it was Miles Hawkins who truly healed her. As she healed him. They brought out the best in each other. They still do.“

  The affection and admiration in Raven’s voice when he spoke of the man Angel loved puzzled Janna. „Most men in your shoes would hate Angel’s husband.“

  Raven’s massive shoulders moved in a shrug. „Hawk gave Angel something no other man had been able to give. She gave him what she had given to no other man. They are as deeply interlocked as the sea and the shore. To hate one would be to hate the other.“

  Janna listened and wondered deep within herself if she would ever be able to accept the loss of love as generously as Raven had. „You’re an unusual man, Carlson Raven,“ she said huskily. „Angel must have been blind to choose someone else.“

  His teeth flashed in a white smile. „You haven’t met Hawk. Tall, dark, handsome, sophisticated. Wherever he goes he turns heads. Women’s heads. I’ve never seen anything like it.“

  Janna looked at Raven. „Pull my other leg,“ she said sardonically. „It’s shorter.“

  „Believe me, Hawk is the most – “

  „He can’t be a patch on you,“ she said succinctly, interrupting. She took a drink of her wine and then stared down into it gloomily. „My God, I’ll bet there’s an epidemic of female whiplash every time you walk down the street.“

  Raven sat at the table and cocked an inquiring black eyebrow at Janna. „Are you one of those women who can’t take a sip of alcohol without getting delirious?“

  With an impatient sound Janna put her wine on the table and scooped a lemon out of the sink. „Don’t bother to be modest,“ she said, quartering the lemon with knife strokes that were just short of vicious. „Surely you’ve noticed the women piling up around your feet like autumn leaves.“

  Raven stuck his large feet out into the aisle and looked at them curiously. „Nope. Not a one.“

  „Of course not,“ she shot back. „You have two.“

  „More than six and a half, actually.“

  Janna blinked. „Help.“

  „Feet,“ he added blandly. „As in tall.“

  Smiling, shaking her head, Janna gave up. The last of her anger fled as she looked at Raven’s dark face animated by inner laughter. For a tearing instant she wondered why life was so unfair as to give Raven everything she had ever wanted in a man – and then to place him beyond her reach. Sudden tears came in blinding counterpoint to laughter, threatening to choke her. She tried to speak, to explain, but all that came out were fragments of Raven’s name.

  „Hey, it wasn’t that bad a pun,“ Raven said gently, coming to stand beside Janna and blot up her tears with a napkin.

  Head down, leaning against his strength, Janna fought not to cry. After a minute she succeeded.

  „Sorry,“ she said, drawing a deep breath. „I never cry. I don’t know what’s wrong.“ She sighed and reluctantly drew back from Raven’s body.

  „You had quite a scare a few days ago,“ Raven said quietly. His hand hesitated before he permitted himself the luxury of stroking Janna’s gleaming cinnamon hair. The smooth warmth of the crown of her head made his palm feel as though it was caressing fire. „It’s not surprising you’re still feeling the emotional aftershocks.“

  Janna felt Raven’s touch all the way to the soles of her feet. She wanted to turn her head and catch his hard palm against her lips. Even as the impulse came, she had given in to it. Her lips brushed over his warm hand.

  „You’re very kind,“ she said huskily. „Whoever Hawk is, whatever he is, Angel took second best.“

  Raven watched as Janna turned from his arms and slid into the booth seat along the table. Her honesty and vulnerability to him made him ache with tenderness. And hunger. He knew that she wanted him. He knew how much he wanted her. Silently he cursed the circumstances that had brought them together and at the same time made it impossible for him to accept what she offered. He couldn’t take a woman who came to him out of a combination of misplaced gratitude and primitive survival instincts.

  And that was all Janna was feeling now – gratitude and the emotional aftershocks of almost dying. She would have been equally drawn to any man who had saved her life and then cared for her.

  Too bad he wouldn’t have been equally drawn to any woman he had fished out of the sea.

  Grimly Raven’s big hand closed around his wineglass. He took a quick swallow, then another, as though the beautiful Chardonnay were medicine. And, in a way, it was. If he drank enough of it he might sleep tonight instead of lying awake so frustrated and aroused that he could count his own pulse in the rigid stirrings of his sex.

  With an abrupt movement Raven sat down, concealing his physical turmoil beneath the opaque barrier of the table. A hard smile tugged at his mouth as he eyed the oysters heaped on his plate. If folk tales were true, right now he needed saltpeter a hell of a lot more than he needed oysters.

  Janna reached for the oyster crackers, shook out a handful and offered Raven the package. He took it without a word. She wondered what he was thinking that had etched such an odd smile onto his lips. When she realized that she was watching those same chiseled lips with breathless intensity, she looked away, flushing guiltily.

  „What do you do when you aren’t fishing tourists out of Totem Inlet?“ Janna asked, seizing the first words that came into her mind.

  „I used to be a commercial fisherman.“ Raven squeezed lemon onto an oyster and forked it into his mouth. „Not bad,“ he said thoughtfully, appreciating the acid tang of fresh lemon.

  „The oyster?“ she asked, pausing in the act of reaching for one of her own.

  „The lemon.“

  Janna blinked. „Don’t you usually have it with oysters?“

  „No.“

  „Then why did you have all those lemons on board?“

  „Angel likes fresh lemonade. We were going to cruise the east side of Moresby Island for a f
ew days until Hawk got back from Tokyo. Hawk got in early, though.“ Raven smiled crookedly. „Married nearly four years and he still hates being away from Angel.“

  „Maybe he didn’t want to tempt fate by leaving Angel alone with you,“ Janna said dryly.

  Raven smiled even as he shook his head. „Not a chance. Pass some of that sauce over this way,“ he said. „I’ll try it next.“

  „Haven’t you ever had this kind of sauce on your oysters?“ she asked, nudging the dish full of cocktail sauce closer to him.

  „Nope,“ Raven rumbled.

  „Then why did you have ketchup and horseradish on board?“

  „For my roast beef sandwiches.“ He dipped an oyster in the dish, chewed the succulent flesh and cocked his head thoughtfully. „Not bad. Kind of saucy.“

  Janna winced at the awful pun. „How do you usually eat your oysters? Cooked in a stew?“

  „Just the way I find them. In the raw.“

  „Must be kind of chilly,“ she said, reaching for her third oyster.

  „What?“

  „Finding oysters in the raw. Most people wear shirts and jeans and…“

  Janna ducked a casual swipe from Raven’s massive hand. When she straightened again, his fingers returned to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

  „We’re going to have to find you a scarf the color of your eyes.“

  The gentleness of Raven’s touch made Janna’s heart stop and then beat with redoubled speed even as she told herself it was just a casual gesture that meant nothing. And even though it had made her go all shivery, it certainly hadn’t affected him. He was picking up his glass of wine as though nothing had happened.

  Raven drained his glass in a single motion, cursing himself for touching Janna at every excuse – and knowing that he was just waiting for another tendril of silky hair to escape so that he could touch her again. He looked at his wineglass. Empty. Janna’s was almost empty, too. He refilled both glasses and wished that he and Janna were as naked as the oysters gleaming within their pearly half shells.

  „To oysters in the raw,“ Raven said, lifting his wineglass.

  His slow, very male smile sent frissons of awareness through Janna. She touched her wineglass to his and drank quickly, deeply, grateful for the excuse to look away from Raven’s midnight eyes. If he smiled like that again, she was afraid she would crawl right into his lap and beg to be kissed.

  The thought shocked her. She took another quick swallow of wine and felt a different kind of warmth spread through her. Belatedly she realized that wine probably wasn’t what she should be drinking; alcohol wasn’t noted for enhancing self-control. On the other hand, the wine was absolutely delicious. Probably far too delicious.

  „Do you still fish commercially?“ Janna asked, firmly trading wineglass for oyster fork.

  „I own several commercial boats,“ Raven said. „My cousins have fished them for the last three years while I took Hawk’s money and saw the world.“

  „Hawk must be as generous as he is handsome.“

  Raven smiled crookedly. „Technically the money’s mine, but Hawk is the one who made it for me. The man’s a bloody genius with investments and land. Not long after he and Angel met, I gave him a few thousand dollars. A year later he gave me back a few million.“

  ***

  „I lost most of it the following year,“ Raven said matter-of-factly. „Storms and fickle fish. Hawk just laughed and showed me how to make it all over again.“

  Janna waved her wineglass in a vague circle that took in the Black Star. „Looks like you’re doing a good job of it.“

  Raven shrugged and dipped another oyster in the thick sauce. „Like Hawk says, money’s just a way of keeping score. It’s nothing to build a life around. Angel is, though, and he knows it. Smart man, Hawk.“ Raven chewed the oyster thoughtfully. „Still a bit saucy.“

  „Is that what you’re doing?“

  „Being saucy?“ he asked innocently.

  But Janna didn’t smile. Questions were crowding her tongue, reckless questions fueled by frustration and potent wine. „Are you building your life around Angel, too?“ she asked, forking up another oyster.

  The smile vanished from Raven’s face, leaving behind the silence and blunt strength that was his very core. „I’m not a fool, Janna,“ he said quietly. „Angel will never love anyone but Hawk. He feels the same way about her.“

  „And so do you,“ Janna said bleakly.

  She drank more wine, hoping that it would finish the job of numbing her brain that the first glass had already begun. Her tongue, however, wasn’t yet numb. She had drunk just enough wine to say whatever came to her and let the chips hit the fan. Vaguely she realized that wasn’t quite what chips were supposed to do. Well, the chips would just have to look out for themselves. She lifted her glass in a mocking toast.

  „To love,“ she said. „The best antidote to happiness yet devised by man.“

  The bitterness in Janna’s voice surprised Raven. His eyes narrowed as he saw the unhappiness the wine had revealed beneath Janna’s humor.

  „You aren’t drinking.“ she noted.

  Raven said nothing.

  „Ah well,“ said Janna carelessly, shrugging, „not everyone likes the truth. There are times when I sure as hell don’t.“ She drained her glass.

  „And what is the truth?“ he asked in a deep voice.

  „You’re hung up on Angel.“

  „There have been other women in my life.“

  „But only one Angel,“ Janna retorted recklessly. „The perfect willowy blond, green eyes full of mysteries and tragedy. Meanwhile the rest of the women in the world can forget it. Whatever they have to offer you isn’t wanted.“

  „That’s not true.“

  Janna muttered something succinct and contradictory beneath her breath as she reached for the wine bottle. It was empty. Startled, she looked at Raven’s glass. It was also empty.

  „More wine?“ he asked smoothly. „This is getting interesting. In vino Veritas to coin an old phrase.“

  „I have just enough brains left to know that more wine would be a really dumb idea for me,“ Janna said, stabbing an oyster so hard that her fork grated on the shell. „But don’t let that stop you. I’ve been on a roll lately. One dumb thing after another. Next thing you know I’ll be bleaching my hair and learning the harp and shopping for paper wings. Sure, bring on the wine. Fantastic idea. Should have thought of it sooner. Does wine make you tragic and mysterious, too?“

  „What in hell are you talking about?“ Raven asked in a mild tone.

  „Wining and dining,“ Janna said, waving an oyster at him.

  „Was that with or without an h?“ he asked blandly, but his eyes gleamed with suppressed laughter.

  For an instant Janna didn’t understand. Then she heard the echoes of her own bitter words coming back to her. „Whining,“ she whispered too softly for Raven to hear.

  „Of course,“ he continued, „most oysters do tend to complain when dining with a walrus. From their point of view…“ He saw the brittle animation suddenly leave Janna’s face, revealing the pain beneath. He curled his hand comfortingly over hers. „Janna? I was joking.“

  „Yes, of course,“ she said automatically. She looked at the big hand covering her own and knew that she couldn’t keep up the pretense any longer. Her hand slid from beneath his.

  „Excuse me,“ she said carefully. „I’ve had about all the comfort I can handle for one night. I have some sketching I should do while the images are still fresh in my mind.“

  Without waiting for Raven’s answer, Janna grabbed the tablet and pencil from the counter. She retreated to her bunk in the bow, shutting the small door behind her, leaving her words to echo in Raven’s mind.

  I’ve had about all the comfort I can handle for one night.

  Raven didn’t know that his hand had clenched into a fist until he heard the sudden shattering of the wineglass. Slowly he opened his hand and let the glittering fragments fall t
o the table. Absently he wiped the bright dust from his palm. He should have known better than to buy such fragile glasses. He wasn’t any good with fragile things. Too damned big. Too damned strong. Too damned brutal. The really fine things of life were invariably crushed within his grasp. Like Angel.

  And like Janna.

  Raven leaned his head back against the bulkhead, closed his eyes and swore tiredly.

  Chapter 6

  Raven awakened instantly, silently, completely. His senses told him that the storm was over. The wind was little more than a fading whisper. The Black Star lay almost motionless beneath him. Moonlight poured in silver torrents through openings in the spent clouds.

  And nearby, someone was crying very softly.

  Before Raven could stop himself, he was halfway out of bed and heading for Janna’s bunk in the bow. With an effort of will he forced himself to lie down again. If he went to her, he would give her more than comfort. He would lie beside her and caress her until those beautiful legs opened for him. Then he would slide his hard, violently sensitive flesh into her softness, finding the sweet and wild union that he had been aching for ever since he had seen her struggling so bravely against the storm.

  Even as Raven tried to tell himself that surely he could comfort Janna without making love to her, he knew that it wasn’t true. His whole body was flushed with sexual heat, pulsing with the hard beating of his heart. He had never felt so close to the limit of his self-control with a woman. The need to comfort and ravish, to soothe and incite, to find wildness and peace within Janna was tearing him apart.

  Grimly Raven lay very still, fighting his unruly body and his equally unruly emotions, knowing that it would be a long time before he got to sleep again. He had been a long time getting to sleep in the first place. He had waited for hours for Janna to stop sketching and come out of the bow cabin so that he could apologize to her in the relative safety of the main cabin. Finally he had been able to stand it no longer. He had knocked at the tiny door to her cabin. There had been a long hesitation before she had answered. Her tone had been subdued, almost flat. He had realized then how much life she usually had in her voice. The difference had gone into him like a knife.