Sweet Silken Bondage

by Bobbi Smith

  Reina knew she couldn't go to the captain. Not that he didn't appear to be a nice man. She'd met him earlier in the day when they'd first come up on deck, and he'd seemed decent enough. It was just that what Clay had said was true. Her reputation would be thoroughly compromised if she tried to tell anyone on board the truth about her situation.

  Coming up with a whole new way to escape her captor's clutches was proving a challenge, considering where they were, but she already had another idea. There were a few days left before they reached Panama and made port. She had that much time to put her new plan into action. She would start tonight, at dinner. It just might work.

  Clay was standing across the deck talking with the captain while he kept a careful watch over his bride.

  "Lovely young woman, your missus," Captain Gibson, a barrel-chested, full-bearded, gray-haired, mountain of a man, observed as he regarded Reina's trim figure with open male appreciation.

  "Thank you. I think so, too." Clay realized his words were true. He did think her beautiful, and he was touched with the kind of pride a husband might have. It annoyed him.

  "Are you two heading for the gold fields like everyone else?" Gibson pried.

  "No. My wife is from California. Her family is there."

  "I'm looking forward to our dining together this evening and getting to know her better. She looks like quite a charming lady," the captain said, his gaze still resting on Reina, for she was by far the most attractive female on the boat.

  The ship's master's appreciative gaze was begin ping to stir an emotion in Clay he would never recognize jealousy. It struck a raw nerve, and he grew tense and uncomfortable as they continued to talk. He noticed a handsome young man join Reina at the rail, and he thought the fair-haired youth far too attentive where she was concerned. He didn't like it one bit, and in spite of himself, he scowled blackly.

  "Excuse me, Captain Gibson. I think I shall see to my wife," Clay bit out tersely, striding straight across the deck to where Reina was chatting with the young man,

  Gibson watched him go, and he chuckled to himself. "Cordell 's one jealous man, and I got a feeling that that pretty, little bride of his is going to run him ragged. She's a beauty, and men are drawn to her like a magnet. He's going to be one busy man if he thinks he can keep them away from her and keep her all to himself."

  Clay's features were like carved granite when he stopped by her side, interrupting her lighthearted repartee with the gallant, would-be suitor. He told himself that the only reason he was angry was because he thought she might be up to something. Why else?

  "Darling," he stressed the word as he took possessive hold of her arm. "Are you going to introduce me to your friend?"

  "Of course," Reina said tautly, "Michael Webster, this is my husband, Clay Cordell. Clay, this is Michael Webster. Michael's going to California, too."

  Clay bristled. Considering that she'd just met the young fellow, he thought she was being much too familiar in addressing him by his first name. "How nice for you, Mr. Webster."

  "Yes, it should be exciting. I've heard a lot about California. I'm really looking forward to it," Michael reported cheerfully, ignorant of the dangerous un dercurrent that lurked just beneath Clay's civilized veneer.

  "Reina, don't you think it's time we went below?" Clay turned away from the young man, in an attempt to cut him dead, but Reina wouldn't allow it.

  "I'd really rather not just yet, sweetheart," she emphasized the endearment. "It's such a beautiful day out, and you know how much I hated being forced to stay in our cabin when I was feeling so ill before." She faced him fully, meeting his glowering silver stare without flinching.

  "You did say you wanted to rest up before dinner, though, didn't you?" he came back at her, not giving her an easy out.

  Reina's eyes flashed fire, and she refused to be coerced into going along with him. "I really feel quite fine, dear, but if you want to go back to the cabin for a while, go right ahead."

  Clay was about to erupt. He'd never had a woman so openly defy him before. "I really would prefer you come with me, darling. I'm sure we'll see Mr. Webster later at dinner." He tightened his hold on her arm in a subtly threatening gesture that only she was aware of.

  Reina knew she'd pushed him as far as she dared for right now. Smiling at the unsuspecting Michael, she turned the full power of her potent female charm on him. "My husband needs me, Michael. If you'll excuse me 'til later?"

  "Yes, ma'am," Michael responded, beaming.

  "We will be seeing you at dinner tonight, won't we?" She made sure to include her husband in her question.

  "You surely will, Mrs. Cordell," he promised eagerly.

  She gave him a gracious nod as Clay led her away. They appeared the perfect couple as he es corted her below, and more than a few eyes followed their progress with silent approval.

  Clay didn't speak again until they reached the privacy of their cabin. Only then did he allow himself to explode. "What the hell did you think you were doing out there?" he demanded.

  "I was having a simple conversation with a very nice, very lonely, young man," Reina explained simply. She was pleased that she could stay so remarkably calm on the surface, while deep inside she wanted to rage at him that it was none of his business what she did or who she did it with.

  "I don't care how lonely young Webster is. I don't care if the man doesn't have a friend in the world!" Clay ground out. "It's going to stop, and it's going to stop now."

  Reina regarded him from beneath lowered lashes. If she hadn't known better, she might have thought him jealous, but that couldn't be. If there was one thing Clay Cordell wasn't, that was jealous of her.

  "I agreed to go along with your little charade of pretending to be married, but that's all I agreed to!"

  "You're supposed to be acting like a married woman."

  "I didn't know that married women weren't allowed to have conversations with other passengers," Reina challenged.

  "Not with single men. I've seen you work your wiles on men. An innocent like Webster would be putty in your hands. I want you to stay away from him. Leave him alone."

  Reina wondered how he could have come to have such a low opinion of her. He didn't really know her. It enraged her that Clay thought her decadent enough to try to seduce the youth. The only thing she wanted from Michael Webster was his help in escaping, if the opportunity ever arose.

  "There's a big difference between you and Mi chael Webster, Clay. He's"

  "You're right," he cut her off in mid-statement. "There's a damn big difference. He's a boy still wet behind the ears, and I'm a man. You'd do well to remember that."

  "I was about to say," Reina continued with precision, ignoring him. "There's a big difference, Clay. Michael Webster is a gentleman."

  "I'll tell you what," Clay said smoothly when she'd finished. "I'll act like the gentleman you say I'm not, if you'll act like a lady."

  Clay's barbed comment left Reina seething, but she held herself in check. This was not the time or place to push him further right now. She had to wait, bide her time.

  "I never forget that I'm a lady, although you seem to have," she replied with dignity.

  "I never knew it to forget it," Clay countered hatefully.

  Reina wished their stateroom was ten times bigger so she could get away from him and his overbearing ways for a while. But she knew there was little hope of any real privacy for her between here and California. If anything, it seemed that Clay was even more determined than ever not to let her out of his sight.

  Reina pretended as though nothing he'd said had bothered her in the least, and she went on about the business of getting ready for dinner. She drew the one nice evening gown Emilie had packed out of the trunk and smoothing the wrinkles from it, she spread it out on her half of the bed. It was a teal blue gown that, while not as dramatic or as eye-catching as her gold gown, certainly paid full tribute to her loveliness.

  Clay took the seat near the bed and sat there watching her as she m
oved calmly and efficiently about the cabin laying out her clothes for the evening. His expression was closed to her, and she never knew of the tumultuous emotions stirring within him. He was trying to figure out why he'd gotten so angry over the incident on deck, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He only knew that from now on he was going to keep Reina with him. He was sure his chances of getting her back to California would be much better as long as he carefully monitored everything she did.

  With still over an hour to go before the evening meal would be served, Clay found that he was growing more and more restless in his self-imposed surveillance of Reina. In the confined space of the cabin, he was becoming more and more conscious of her. The trimness of her figure and the gentle sway of her hips as she moved about the room all heightened his perception of her as a woman, and that was something he was trying to forget.

  When Reina dabbed a touch of her favorite perfume at her wrists and throat, Clay stifled a groan. The scent she used was special, a delicate, spicy, floral perfume that seemed to have been made only for her, and it was a heady scent and very potent to his senses. The elusive fragrance would always remind him of their passionate encounter at the Randolphs', and much to his regret, it would always have the power to stir him. He tore his gaze away from her and tried to think of something else less disturbing.

  Reina wanted to finish getting ready for dinner, but the only things she had left to do were her more private, more feminine duties. Since Clay had cruelly accused her of not being a lady, she was determined to show him just how modest she could be.

  "Clay..

  "What?" he sounded particularly surly.

  "I'd appreciate it if you'd leave the cabin for a while. I have a few personal things I have to do, and I'd like some time alone."

  "Sorry," his answer was flat and unyielding. "I'm staying."

  Reina couldn't believe he was refusing to go.

  "Clay, be reasonable," she argued. "Why would you want to stay in here and watch me get ready? Surely, there's something else you could be doing."

  "Actually, there really isn't. Keeping tabs on you is my most important duty, Reina."

  "But I need some privacy," she protested.

  "You just go ahead and do what you have to do. I'll stand here at the window out of your way."

  "You..."

  "Yes, my dear?" he taunted, then went on. "If we're playing husband and wife, it wouldn't look too good if every time you have to change clothes you make me leave the room."

  "If anyone asked, you could just tell them I'm the bashful type."

  Clay gave a jeering laugh. "I don't mind a halftruth now and then, but after everybody saw you in action with Webster this afternoon, I doubt that tale would hold up for long."

  Reina gave him a chilling look, but it didn't bother Clay in the least that she was angry. It wasn't his job to please her. It was his job to get her home to her father in one piece.

  "I'm afraid, whether you like it or not, you're stuck in enforced intimacy with me all the way to Monterey." He smiled.

  Reina managed to hold back the shriek of fury that threatened. She stood there, her expression calm, waiting. When he didn't move right away, she demanded, "Well?"

  Clay's grin turned mocking at her unspoken yielding. Feeling quietly victorious, he moved to the small window to look out at the sea. To his absolute delight, he found he could see her reflection quite clearly in the glass as she stood at the foot of the bed staring at him resentfully.

  "It's safe now, Reina. I can't see a thing," he lied.

  "Thank you," she muttered irritably as she started to unbutton her dress.

  "You're welcome. You know, I certainly wouldn't want to offend your delicate sensibilities by seeing you undressed, although, it certainly would be anticlimactic. I mean I have already seen you in a certain state of deshabille."

  "It's very crude of you to bring that up," Reina said icily.

  "Crude? It was a rather pleasant experience at the time," he chuckled at the annoyance in her tone.

  "Why don't you just forget that it ever happened? We both know it didn't mean anything. It was a mistake that'll never be repeated."

  "You're right that it didn't mean anything," he agreed with her assessment thoughtfully. "But don't think it happened by mistake, Reina. I was determined to get you alone, and I picked what seemed to be the easiest way to do it."

  Reina was glad that Clay couldn't see her, because she flushed painfully at his revelation. It was obvious that he'd thought her less than virtuous from the very beginning, and she hadn't helped matters any by almost giving herself to him completely. He'd been totally blind to the fact that she'd been in danger of falling madly in love with him. He'd thought that she'd been acting through the whole thing, teasing and taunting him just as he'd been teasing and taunting her.

  The knowledge was painful, but Reina was glad for it. As long as he continued to believe that she'd been just playing a role, she would be saved from any further humiliation at his hands. It would never do for Clay to find out that she really had felt something for him, if only for a little while.

  "How fortunate that I made it so easy for you." The sarcasm was evident in her voice.

  "If that hadn't worked, there would have been other times and other places. Rest assured, Reina, I'd have found a way," Clay answered with confidence. "I wasn't about to let you get away from me a second time."

  Reina smiled to herself as she began to disrobe. Clay was feeling quite superior right now, but if she had anything to say about it, his mood wasn't going to last very long. Soon there would be a second escape! All they had to do was make landfall. Once the ship made port, she'd be gone, and this time she'd make sure he would never be able to find her!

  As Reina undressed, dreaming of her triumphant getaway, she was completely unaware of Clay watching her every move. He had begun this folly, thinking the trick on Reina. But as his desire for her stirred unbidden, he realized too late that he was the one who would suffer from his ploy. Cursing himself for his stupidity, he fought against the longing that filled him. In misery, he recognized that it was going to be one very long night.

  Reina was still angry as Clay escorted her to the ship's sumptuous dining room a short time later. His dictatorial demand that she not speak to Michael Webster any more had left her silently fuming. She'd hoped Michael would prove to be the one ally she needed in this ordeal, and she wasn't about to change her plans just because Clay thought she wasn't acting like a married woman.

  Anyway, she thought fiercely as they swept into the richly, wood-panelled room, just who did Clay think he was, trying to tell her what to do? Stubborn and headstrong as she was, Reina was determined to pay him back. Even if she only made his life miserable for a little while, it would well be worth it. Feeling very daring, she lifted her chin in an unconscious gesture of confidence and girded herself for the evening to come. They had been invited to dine with the captain; Reina couldn't have been more delighted to see that Michael Webster was also seated at their table.

  As Clay led her across the room, Michael saw them coming and immediately got to his feet. He rushed forward from the table to welcome her, his expression eager. To Clay's way of thinking he looked almost puppyish, and when Reina greeted him openly and warmly, he tensed.

  Reina had never dreamed everything would work out so perfectly, and she smiled brightly as Michael rushed to her side.

  "Mrs. Cordell, I'm so glad we've been seated at the same table." Michael had seen her smile, was sure it was just for him. If possible, he fell even more deeply under her spell. He was unaware of anything, save Reina's presence in the room. She was an angel, a goddess.

  "So am I, Michael," Reina responded and she meant it.

  "I was wanting to talk to you some more after our time on the deck, and this is going to be perfect."

  "Yes, it will be," she agreed, totally ignoring Clay standing by her side.

  Clay was seething. The boy was practically drooling all ove
r her right here in front of everybody! He didn't like the way Webster eyed her so hungrily or the way he hung on her every word. Clay wanted to grab him by the scruff of the neck and shake some sense into him, but he knew this was neither the time or the place. Although it wasn't easy, with a concerted effort, he managed to control himself.

  "Perhaps we should go on and sit down?" Clay prodded tersely as he spied the captain looking their way.

  "Oh, yes..." Webster was a bit shaken by the realization that he'd been so oblivious to everything and everyone but Mrs. Cordell. "Sorry. Evening, Cordell."

  "Good evening, Webster." Clay's was a strained civilized greeting. He led the way to where Gibson awaited them, drawing Reina along with him in a possessive move that left the youth alone to follow.

  Captain Gibson had been watching the exchange, enjoying it in his own dry-humored way. The Cordell woman was a looker, and though Webster was a handsome enough boy, he stood no chance at all in competition with her husband. Cordell was a fullblooded male, a man's man. It was easy to see just by his stance and actions that he would tolerate no interference with his wife. Gibson hoped the youth caught on before any trouble broke out between them. In any kind of fight, the kid wouldn't last a minute against the husband. He rose to greet the three of them as they came forward.

  "Good evening, Mrs. Cordell, Mr. Cordell. Ma'am, if I may be so bold, you are a lovely sight tonight," Gibson complimented in a booming voice. "You grace my ship with your beauty."

  "Why, captain, you're too kind," Reina replied sweetly, turning on her charm. She was very much aware of Clay's glowering presence beside her, but she was not going to allow him to intimidate her in any way.

  "I'm not being kind, my dear," he countered. "I'm a New England Yankee, through and through. I make it a practice to only speak the truth, and this evening, you are a vision to behold."