Sweet Silken Bondage

by Bobbi Smith

  "Michael, it's so nice to see you," she greeted him warmly.

  "It's good to see you, too, ma'am," he told her, meaning it with all his heart. He thought she was wonderful.

  Reina was well aware of his feelings, and she also knew that he was her one hope for help in escaping. She didn't like the idea of using him for her own purpose, but realized there was no other way.

  "Michael, I was wondering if there's somewhere we might talk-privately."

  "Privately?" He was astounded by her suggestion. But to him, the thought of a few minutes alone with her was well worth risking the other man's ire. "Well, um, I share my cabin with three other men, so I don't know where we could go."

  Reina glanced around and then touched his arm in a gesture that hinted at intimacy. She drew him along to the end of the corridor where there was a small alcove out of sight from anyone in the companionway. Unaware that anyone was aware of their presence.

  "My husband's gone to eat, so we should be able to manage a short time to ourselves"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Michael, there's something important-a favor, I have to ask of you."

  Michael was hooked. He couldn't believe it! Reina Cordell wanted something from him. His heart was pounding. Though he knew there might be danger involved since she was a married woman, his deeply ingrained chivalry wouldn't allow retreat.

  "Of course," he agreed quickly.

  Reina could sense his excited anticipation, and as much as it pained her, she knew she would have no problem bending him to her will. Michael was a nice man, the type of man who, unlike Clay, would respond to the plea for help of a woman in trouble. All she had to do was convince him that Clay was treating her wrong. Once she managed that, she was sure he would help her escape his abuse.

  "Michael..." she spoke hesitantly, wanting him to believe her uncertainty, her fear and helplessness.

  "What is it you wanted, Mrs. Cordell?" Michael led eagerly. "What can I do to help you?"

  "It's...it's my husband..." Reina said in a choked voice.

  "Your husband? What about him?" he asked gently, a great feeling of protectiveness filling him. She was so lovely and so very feminine. He wanted to help her in any way he could.

  "Oh, it's so hard to talk about, but I knew you were the one person I could be honest with.. .the one person on this ship I could ask to help me." She lifted her gaze to his imploringly.

  "Of course I'll help you. But how? What do you want me to do?"

  "I have to escape," Reina answered quickly.

  "Escape?" he repeated, his eyes rounding slightly at the thought. "You want to escape from your husband? I thought you two were newly married."

  "It's true we haven't been together long," she said softly.

  "Don't you love him?"

  "No, how could I, when he's so cruel and heartless?!" Thinking of the misery that would be hers once Clay took her back to marry Nathan, tears welled up in her eyes. She used them to her advantage.

  "He treats you badly?" Michael was astonished and swelled with indignation at the thought.

  "It's terrible. He's so abusive.. .but only when no one else will see...You must help me, Michael. There's no one else I can turn to."

  "Tell me what you want me to do," the young man said ardently. It outraged him to think that her husband might harm her in some way, and he was ready to do whatever she asked without question.

  "I want to run away from him when we get to Panama. Will you help me do that?"

  "Yes," he vowed gallantly, feeling a rush of masculine pride at his ability to come to her rescue.

  "Oh, Michael, I always knew you were someone special."

  The young man beamed at her praise. He felt like a knight in shining armor. He wanted, was eager, to do battle for her. "What do you want me to do?"

  Reina quickly explained her plan to sneak off the boat and get a horse before Clay could miss her. Michael listened and knew he couldn't let her go alone.

  "I'll leave the boat first and arrange for the horses," he said firmly.

  "Horses?"

  "It wouldn't be safe for you to go alone. Ill go with you."

  "Do you think that's wise? My husband-"

  "Won't be able to find us, so well be fine."

  "Thank you, Michael. I don't know what I would have done without you." Reina wasn't comfortable with the idea of him going along with her, but could see no way around it right now.

  "It's an honor to be of service to you," he swore earnestly, taking her hand in his and gazing, lovestruck, into her eyes.

  "I'd better be getting to my cabin now."

  "Yes, yes, of course." Michael offered her his arm and accompanied her to her cabin. He paused outside her stateroom door, gazing down at her.

  "Until tomorrow...?"

  "Yes, Michael..."

  He lifted her hand to his lips, then stayed right there until she'd gone inside. Michael's head was in the clouds as he turned and started back up on deck. He was startled when the man stepped out in front of him, cutting off his path, and he stopped in his tracks, puzzled. He looked up, frowning, to find himself staring into a pair of the fiercest, coldest, steel-gray eyes he'd ever seen.

  Michael stiffened, his eyes widening as he recognized him. "Cordell..." he croaked.

  "Hello, Webster," he said coolly, menacingly, his gaze never leaving the younger man's face.

  "Hello." There was something so threatening about Cordell's stance, something so dangerous, that Michael suddenly realized he knew everything. He began to tremble.

  Clay studied him for a long minute, letting him sweat beneath his ominous scrutiny.

  "Webster," he finally began, breaking the taut silence that had stretched between them, "if you go near my wife again, you're a dead man"

  Seeing the pure, unadulterated promise of pain in his deadly regard, Michael blanched.

  "Do you understand me?" Clay pressed.

  Michael nodded, swallowing nervously. He wished he was brave enough to stand up to him, but he wasn't. He might be infatuated with Cordell's wife, but he wasn't stupid.

  "Let me hear you say it out loud, Webster. Do you understand me?"

  Struck silent by his threat, he could only whisper the words in a hoarse, frightened voice. "Yes, sir."

  "Good, I'm glad we understand each other." Clay smiled wolfishly as he stepped aside.

  Michael found he was shaking uncontrollably. He didn't say another word, but took the opportunity to escape his sinister presence at a dead run. He didn't know where he was going, and he didn't care. He just wanted to get as far away from Clay Cordell as he could, fast.

  Clay watched him go, then started off toward his and Reina's stateroom. He was cool and calculating as he thought of what he would do next. He'd taken care of Webster, and now it was time to set Reina straight. He'd stopped this plan before she could move on it, and he would stop any other scheme she concocted.

  The door was locked when Clay reached the cabin, and he knocked lightly as he called out. "Reina, it's me. Open the door." His command was cool and controlled just as he believed himself to be. He prided himself on the fact that he'd kept himself under tight control during these past few days. It galled him that he'd given in to his weakness for her that night, and he fully intended that it would never happen again. He knew what kind of woman she was. Her actions with Webster just reinforced his opinion.

  Reina had not expected him to return this quickly, and hearing him at the door now annoyed her. She had hoped that he would stay away for a while so she would have some time to finish figuring out her plan. Still, in spite of her irritation, she was in a very good mood as she moved to open the door for she believed that by some time the next day she would be rid of Clay forever.

  "Thank you, my darling bride," Clay drawled as he stepped into the room and closed it firmly behind him.

  "I'm not your darling anything!" she snapped back. They were in their stateroom now, and there was no need for all the sweetness and light he insisted
upon when they were out in public.

  "Well, well, well," he said slowly. "I'm certainly glad to see that the change in you wasn't lasting."

  "What change?" Something about his tone cautioned Reina, and she cast him a curious glance.

  "Why the teary-eyed, helpless female who just poured her heart out to Webster," Clay hit her hard with the knowledge that he knew about her plans.

  "You heard..." she whispered, horrified that she'd been discovered. She wondered miserably if she would ever be able to get away from this man.

  "Everything, my dear, and you needn't count on his help any more. I straightened him out about a few things."

  "Why, you!" Reina's eyes blazed with fury as she took a menacing step toward him. Michael had been her one hope, her only ally, and now...

  "That's more like it," he gave a sarcastic laugh as he studied her, watching how her breasts were heaving in indignation and how her cheeks were burning in proof of her anger. He remembered another time when she'd been breathless, and a jolt of desire shot through him. "You know you really are the consummate actress, Reina. You might have tricked the boy that easily, but I would never have been fooled by your weak little woman routine. I know you better."

  "You don't know me, Clay Cordell. You don't know anything about me!" she told him, her ire evident in the taut line of her body.

  "I know all I need to know. There's nothing helpless or delicate about you. You're nothing but a conniving, deceitful, little..."

  Reina had had enough, and she exploded in outrage. Clay never had time to finish his sentence as she slapped him full force. The sound of her hand connecting with the leanness of his cheek resounded through the room.

  Her action shocked Clay, and he reacted instinctively, grabbing her by her arms and jerking her off her feet as he hauled her up against him. He glared down at her, his gray eyes stormy with the power of the emotions that were raging through him. With one hand he held her bound, with the other he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. Reina tried to fight against his hold, but his fingers bit painfully into her flesh, refusing to yield.

  "I've warned you about pushing me, Reina," he said slowly, his threat implied and understood. "I'm not a fool like Webster."

  "Michael's no fool! Michael's -"

  Clay pulled her even closer. "Michael's an idiot. He couldn't hold a woman like you, but I can... and I will."

  Reina stared up at him, her expression mutinous even as she faced the truth of her defeat. Frustration welled up inside her. Was there no way she could outsmart this man? Was there no way to escape him? Tears of fury burned in her eyes, and she tried again to jerk free of his paralyzing hold, but he refused to release her.

  Clay wanted to prove to her, once and for all, that he was not a man to be trifled with. He was bending to her, meaning to kiss her, meaning to prove his point when he saw the unshed tears shimmering in her eyes. Suddenly some emotion more powerful than any he'd ever known before stormed his senses. Without conscious thought he eased pressure of his restraining grip, no longer holding her prisoner, but cradling her against him, his hand no longer gripping her chin, but tilting her face to his. Desire swept through him with the force of a raging torrent as he lowered his head to hers.

  Reina watched as passion darkened his expression. She began to tremble as he bent to her. Her heart lurched in a breathtaking acknowledgment that despite everything she felt about this man, she wanted his kiss. There was one brief moment when she would have fought against him, but then his lips met hers and it was too late.

  With gentle ferocity, Clay's mouth moved over Reina's, and a firestorm of desire flared to life. Hands that had moments before fought against him, surrendered, sweeping upward to encircle his neck and draw him ever closer, ever nearer. He groaned as her action brought her fully and willingly against him. Sliding his own hands down her back to her hips, he pressed her tightly to the heat of his need. She gasped at the sensation, moving her hips instinctively against him in nature's rhythm.

  When Clay lifted her up into his arms to lay her upon the bed, Reina murmured not a protest. She was lost in the fiery splendor of his embrace, caught up in the hot power of this thing that existed between them, that they could neither name or resist.

  Long forgotten was the argument that had led to this explosion of long-denied desire. Long forgotten was Reina's need to survive, her need to flee. Feverish with excitement, there was only a man and a woman, clutching at a moment of ecstasy in a world ugly with too many half-truths.

  Garments were stripped as steamy passions demanded fulfillment. Bare flesh on bare flesh, they came together. Differences celebrated now. Hard male dominating and, yet even as he conquered, surrendering to the softness of the female. Woman giving of herself completely, and in that giving, claiming without demanding, the very soul of the man. It was a union borne of volcanic passion that erupted into the red-hot lava flow of love. Their desires exploded into brilliance and bound them together in the fever of oneness. Sated as never before, they drifted mindlessly in the heated tempest's aftermath.

  Reina was first to realize the gravity of what she'd allowed to happen, and shame overwhelmed her. He had bragged that he could handle her, and he had. It infuriated her that she had made it so easy for him. Needing to get away from him, she drew back out of his embrace.

  "Reina?" Clay could see the hostility reflected in her eyes, and he was careful that no trace of emotion showed in his own.

  "You certainly proved you're a man of your word." Rancor sharpened her voice as she moved from the bed, clutching a cover to her.

  "Reina...I..." For a moment he almost told her that it hadn't been a power struggle, that it had been something else he didn't understand, but she didn't give him a chance to speak.

  Feeling cornered and trapped, knowing this man's power over her was complete, she struck out at him in the only way she could. "You can drug me and tie me to the bed. You can drag me bodily back to my father against my will. You can even make me respond to you physically, but that's all it is - a physical response! You may possess my body, but you'll never possess me. Never!"

  Clay bristled at her words, but was determined not to let her know. He shrugged carelessly as he got up. "For some men, that's enough."

  He watched as his words hit home, and she turned pale. Casually, he began to dress as she looked on in helpless fury. Without a backward glance, he quit the cabin, leaving her staring after him, more frightened than she'd ever been before.

  Michael stood at the bar in the men's lounge and ordered another shot of the barkeep's less than mellow whiskey. Since his humiliating confrontation with Cordell the day before, he'd been slinking around the boat like a whipped dog. For the briefest period of time, he'd fancied himself a knight in armor rescuing a lady in distress, and yet when he'd been threatened, he'd backed down like a coward.

  He hadn't meant to dwell on it, but the more he thought about it, the more upset he became. He felt guilty. There was no doubt about it. And he felt worried. When Reina hadn't shown up for dinner last night he'd feared that her husband had confronted her, too, and possibly harmed her in some way. Only catching a glimpse of her looking as lovely as ever this morning on deck with her husband had relieved his attack of conscience, but he still harbored the feeling that he should do something to help her.

  As Michael drained the last of the biting liquor from the glass, he glanced idly around the room and noticed for the first time the young boy of about fourteen or fifteen busily straightening things up. He frowned thoughtfully as he studied the youngster, a short, thin, almost wiry youth, and an outrageous idea came to him. Knowing time was growing short, he approached him.

  A short time later Michael stood on deck keeping watch for Clay Cordell, a bundle tucked securely under his arm. He knew his plan was risky, but he had to chance it. He would never be able to look himself in the mirror again, if he didn't at least make the attempt.

  When at long last Cordell emerged, alone, from belowdec
ks, Michael made his move. Without hesitation, he hurried off to find Reina. It was absolutely important that he speak to her before her husband returned and found them together. He rushed to her stateroom as fast as humanly possible and, after one last, furtive look around, knocked on the door.

  "Mrs. Cordell? It's me, Michael," he called out in a hushed tone, not wanting anyone else to be aware of his presence.

  "Michael?" Reina was surprised. Hope buoyed in her heart that maybe he hadn't been scared off by Clay's intimidating tactics. She quickly opened the door to him.

  Michael still thought she was the prettiest woman he'd ever seen, but he had no wish to suffer another encounter with her husband. He had to hurry.

  "Mrs. Cordell... I, um... I'm sorry I won't be able to help you more, but I got these for you," he said quickly as he shoved the big bundle into her hands. He glanced nervously over his shoulder for fear that her husband might have materialized out of thin air.

  "What is it?" she asked, having no idea what it was he'd just handed her.

  "Clothes... boy's clothes. I thought you might be able to use them. Look, I have to go. I'm sorry I can't do more..." With that he was gone at an almost run. He disappeared from sight without another word.

  Reina stared after him for a minute, then closed the door again. She shook out the pants, loosefitting top and nearly crushed straw hat, and as she did, a slow smile lit her face. By now, Reina considered herself a master of disguise, and her confidence surged. She'd fooled Clay into thinking she was a nun, certainly it would be easier to act out the part of a boy. Everyone would have noticed her had she tried to sneak away in her ordinary clothing, but dressed as a boy, she would be able to slip off the ship and onto the docks unnoticed.

  Feeling once more in control of her life, her disposition greatly improved. They were to arrive in Chagres some time that afternoon and leave the boat then. They wouldn't be using the bed again, so she hid the clothes under the rumpled covers, knowing they would be safe there.

  There was a lightness to her step as she left the stateroom a short time later. It was a struggle for her to make sure the excitement she was feeling didn't show in her expression or her manner. She knew she had to do it, though, for her whole future depended on it. Clay might think he'd outsmarted her, but he had another think coming. This time she was going to show him, but good.