“Kat…” he said.
“Yes?”
Pastor Robert stepped away from them, disappearing into the church and giving them a moment together.
Jason grabbed her hands. “I knew you were beautiful, Kat, but this…this is beyond.”
“The dress fits well enough?”
“More than.” His hand came up, swiping his knuckles gently from her temple to her chin. “If I did not know better, Katalin, I would pin you as a proper English lady.”
She smiled. “I can be a lot of things, Jase. But right now, I only want to be one thing.”
“What? Whatever you want, I will make it happen.”
“Make me your wife.”
His beaming smile came easy. “Done.”
Pastor Robert stepped back into the open air. “Jules is ready. I am ready.” He looked directly to Katalin. “Dear child, are you ready?”
“Yes. Thank you, Pastor Robert.”
With a nod, the pastor turned, walking into the small church and to the altar as he muttered loud enough for Katalin to hear. “May your father forgive me for doing this without his blessing.”
Before they had arrived at the church, Jason had urged her to not necessarily lie, but to at least avoid the topic with the pastor of her father being unaware of the wedding. But that was the first question Pastor Robert asked of her, and Katalin fessed to the truth immediately. She wasn’t about to lie to a man of God. Especially on her wedding day.
Jason leaned down to whisper in her ear as they followed the pastor. “I was mourning what will be the absence of your breeches in the future, but now, seeing you like this, I do not believe I will ever miss them again.”
“No?” she whispered back.
“No. Aside from the fact that you are gorgeous and the gown only exaggerates that fact, there is much easier access for me under your skirts.”
She hid a laugh as she swatted him.
They halted, arm in arm, hand in hand at the altar.
Within moments, they were married.
~~~
The most agonizing part of the wedding was keeping it a secret from the crew.
They had decided to hide their vows until they reached her father’s island. After every voyage, her father and the crew feasted together, before everyone dispersed to their respective homes. Some lived on her father’s island, some had settled on islands nearby.
It had been that way since she was a little girl and her father had purchased his island. A feast, a celebration of victory, and then on to the settling of life between voyages. There would be no better time to tell everyone about the marriage.
Besides, Katalin hoped that the more crew that were gathered around, the better her father—all of them—would take the news.
So it was late into the darkness before Jason could join Katalin on their wedding night. It had been an agonizing day after they had rejoined the crew following the wedding, as Jason and Katalin had had to maintain more than enough distance from one another.
And it was killing Katalin.
Deep in the darkness, when Jason finally entered her cabin, locking the door behind him, she could tell it was killing him as well.
She was naked, waiting for him, and flew to her feet the moment he stepped foot through the door.
To her in two strides, he seized her, without word, one arm pulling her upward to his mouth, the other hand thick in her hair she had let down.
He already pulsated hard on her belly, ready and straining for her as his mouth captured hers, ravaging her lips. He pushed her backward, setting her on the navigation table and her sexton clattered to the floor as he pulled the rope loose from his waist.
Katalin shoved up on his shirt as his trousers dropped, and he joined her, skin on skin, his mouth hungry on her neck.
Her legs wide and already straddling him, she pulled on his hips, driving him close to her, her body arching in its need for him. But he stopped, the tip of him nudging the vastness that needed to be filled. He drew up, grabbing her face, searching for her eyes.
A slow smile formed across his face, the languidness of it fighting the shaking muscles, the urgent strain Katalin could feel in his body. His control of himself, of her, made her breath catch.
His voice rough, eyes searching her soul, his thumb dragged along her lower lip. “My wife.”
Katalin took a deep breath, battling against her own tremors. “My husband.”
It was all he needed.
With a growl, he pushed forward, deep into her as his mouth covered hers. His hands went under her backside, holding her solid against his hard thrusts, until it was too much, and he lifted her fully from the table.
Gripping her hips, he brought her up and down on his shaft, sliding her slowly along him until her nails were deep into his shoulders, her teeth biting the skin on his neck in effort to not scream.
Their bodies tight together, Katalin swiveled her hips in agony, trying to take some control back, but instead, only driving herself into a wicked pace. A pace that had her gasping for breath until she could take no more. Her core swelled and then pitched into spasms, her muscles contracting with the hot release encapsulating her body.
Jason held on, admirably, but was far from unaffected, and could only give her seconds before he lifted her hips until he was almost free of her. And then he pounded himself deeper into her core, again and again, until a raw growl escaped as his body clenched, filling her.
He stood solid as their bodies throbbed together, Katalin’s limbs wrapped around him. Her chin hanging over his shoulder, hot skin sticking on hot skin, Katalin fought to catch her breath.
Jase turned his head, whispering into the hair at her neck. “I do not think I can hide this—us—for another hour, much less two more days, Kat. All I want to do is touch you. Lock us in a room for a week. Even though I do not think a week would sate me. Maybe two.”
She captured enough breath to speak, turning her head to rest on the muscle at the end of his shoulder. Her hand curled up along the back of his head. “Two days, Jase. Only two. We can make it. Two days is not so long.”
“Two days is an eternity. We can make it, but the need to shout from the crow’s nest that you are mine, that I am the happiest man alive, threatens my very sanity. By the grace of the fates, you are my wife, finally, and I want the whole damn world to know it.”
“That enthusiasm will do you well when we are in front of my father. You are as tall as he, but not nearly as wide—I do not wish the scene to come to blows.”
Jason bristled. “I am not afraid of your father, Kat.”
“I know. I love that about you. Aside from me, you are the only other person I know that is not afraid of him. Of course, you do not know him.”
“All I need to know of him is that he produced you.” He peeled her arm off his shoulder, setting her onto the table and leaning back to let air flow between their chests. He cupped her face. “The most beautiful, smart, kind, witty—all words that do not do you justice—woman I have ever met. It is something I will forever be indebted to him for.”
Katalin smirked. “If you turn that charm on him, he is sure to cut your throat. But I like it.”
“Believe me when I tell you, announcing to your father that we are married will be fine. All will be well. There is no other course of action. We would not be together now were that not to be so. Fate would not be so cruel.” He kissed her, logic secure, and then pulled up. “Two days? Two days and you are all mine, Kat?”
Katalin nodded, beaming. “Two days. That is all. It is almost here.”
{ Chapter 8 }
Fate did, indeed, possess that cruelty.
Cruelty that came in the form of a clipper ripping through the waves early the next morning, fast in pursuit, its guns at the ready.
By the time Clegg had spotted the ship from the crow’s nest, it was already clipping along at a speed double the leisurely pace the Windrunner was maintaining. A pace that Katalin scrambled the crew to match, but it
did little good. The Windrunner could not fill sails fast enough.
It only took an hour for the ship to catch them.
Spanish flag flying high, its intent became clear with the first cannonball.
Jason was below deck when the call for all-hands on deck came. But before he could make it to the scramble happening above deck, Poe pulled him back below.
“We be needin’ yer brawn below, matey. The balls be heavy.”
Dammit. Fist hard in his thigh, Jason followed Poe. All he needed to do was get to Katalin, but if he could help drive the Spaniards off before they even reached the Windrunner, he had to do it.
Swearing under his breath, Jason went down and started hauling cannonballs. He hauled and loaded and lit fuses for what seemed an eternity. Until—even through the smoke stinging his eyes and the ringing in his ears—he could hear the second the Spaniards breached the ship.
Just before gunshots started echoing below deck, he heard Katalin booming, loud and clear. “No surrender, mateys. No surrender.”
His gut dropped.
Clashing metal, shots, and screams filled the air seconds later.
Jason dropped the cannonball he held and raced up to the top deck.
Through the smoke of gunpowder and bodies clashing, he found Katalin within seconds. Alone on the quarterdeck, she held the wheel, still turning hard against the pull of the ropes attached to the Spanish ship.
Jason saw the man flying through the air on a loose rope from the enemy ship before Katalin did, and it set his feet in motion. He broke into a run, dodging swinging cutlasses as he made his way aft.
Eyes not veering from his wife, his heart stopped as Katalin spun, off-guard, right before the man kicked her with a full swing straight in the chest.
She went flying.
Landing on her side, she pulled her cutlass as she absorbed the impact.
Lucky. The brute landed flat on his back and he was gasping for breath after knocking his own wind out.
Up the steps to the quarterdeck, Jason flashed past Katalin before she popped to her feet.
In an instant, he kicked the brute’s sword out of hand and then picked him up at the scruff, dragging him to the back rail. With a heave, he shoved the man over the railing, plunging him into the ocean.
Jason spun to Katalin, grabbing the sword he had kicked from the man as he advanced on her. “Dammit, Kat, get somewhere safe.”
“We are on a bloody ship, Jase. There is nowhere safe.”
“Then get me a damn barrel to stuff you in,” he growled, stopping in front of her, heaving a scowl at her.
“This is not my first time in battle, Jase.” She took his scowl and glared up at him, her toes touching his, not moving from his anger. “I know what I am doing. You have seen it yourself. I am good.”
He grabbed her upper arm. “Dammit, Kat, I could give a bloody damn if you are good or not. I need you safe.”
A pistol shot whizzed past them, tearing up wood on the deck next to Katalin’s feet.
Her head whipped down, then back up just as quickly. “I am safest fighting, Jase. That, I can control.” She ripped her arm from his grasp and took a step away from him. “I refuse to be dead weight, or God-forbid, something to protect. I am the damn captain of this ship and I will not cower.”
Backing from him, she stopped at the top step down from the quarterdeck. She had to shout to be heard over the clash of the battle. “So use that steel and join me, or stay out of my way, Jase. Either way, they are not going to take us.”
She jumped to the main deck, not bothering with the stairs, landing and attacking the first Spaniard in front of her.
“Bloody fucking hell, Kat,” Jason swore after her, but his voice was lost to the battle din.
He burst down to the main deck, and immediately a sword flew at his head. He blocked it with the steel in his hand, and was grateful the cutlass didn’t crumble. Good Spanish steel.
The attacker swung the dagger in his other hand, and Jason jumped back, running into the side of the wall below the quarterdeck. It gave him the stability he needed as the Windrunner rocked into the Spanish ship, and he sprung, leg kicking the stomach of the man in front of him.
The man dropped, losing both weapons, and Jason straddled him, punching him out before he could crawl to the blades.
Jason looked up, needing to find Katalin, searching the scene in front of him.
Seconds slowed as he took it in. Arms and limbs and steel and guns were flying fast in the haze of exploding gunpowder blanketing the ship.
The Spaniards had swarmed the deck, the front line of the Windrunner crew only managing to slice away five rope lines from the Spanish ship before they were engaged in battle.
Blood splattered wide, and Jason realized the Spaniards overpowered them three to one. The Windrunner crew battled with more brawn and bravery than he had ever seen on the seas. And with Katalin’s full crew, maybe…maybe they would have stood a chance.
But this. This was to be a massacre.
And then he found Katalin.
She fired a pistol at one Spaniard just before swinging wide with her cutlass at another. There was a third coming at her back.
Ducking a dagger swinging at his head, Jason tore across the deck, shoving bodies as he went.
But the steel sliced through her arm before he could reach her.
The force of the swipe sent her crashing to the deck, her cutlass flying out of her reach.
Jason was over her, his legs straddling her in two steps.
“Throw down your arms, mateys, we surrender.” His deep baritone thundered over the clashes of steel, guns and screams.
Jason solidified his stance over her, sword in-hand, even as he was surrounded. His eyes flickered to each of the three around him. Surrender or not, they would have to kill him to get to Katalin again.
But then the men in battle closest to him stilled.
“We surrender,” he yelled again, his voice reaching all those still engaged. “We surrender, and ask for quarter.”
“No, we fight, Jase. We fight.” Katalin hit his leg, her tone still holding authority.
He could feel her scrambling under him, but there was nowhere for her to go. They were surrounded by sharp tips of steel.
“Do not do this, Jase. No surrender.”
Jason heard her, but he refused to look down at her.
“We surrender, mateys. The Windrunner surrenders.” His voice left no possibility to be unheard or denied.
The deck went silent.
One by one, steel clattered to the deck.
“No, Jase. No. Do not do this,” her voice hissed as she pushed herself to sitting, grabbing her bleeding arm.
He dared a look down at her, nothing but raw power and full command on his face. “Silence, wench.”
She recoiled as if he had struck her. It was what Jason intended, and it worked. She had to be quiet.
His eyes on hers, he watched as she swayed, her eyes going glassy as the blood from her arm ran through her fingers holding the wound. Thick red streams trailed down her wrist, down her forearm until the blood pooled at the edge of her white linen shirt.
It churned his stomach.
He wanted nothing more than to bend to her. Hold her. Take her pain.
But he could not.
He took his eyes off her, moving a step to block the sightline to Katalin from the Spaniard closest to her.
He could let no one know she was captain. Let no one know she was the most valuable thing on this ship.
Drawing all attention, he bellowed, “Where be your captain?”
It took seconds before bodies started to move, making way for a stout man bustling through the crowd. The Spaniard sheathed his thick cutlass, crossing his arms as he stopped in front of Jason.
“Ye be the one to call surrender?”
Jason could only discern this was the captain before him. He nodded, tossing his sword to the deck. “I am.”
“Ye be the captain of t
he Windrunner?”
Jason did not hesitate. “I am.”
The man chuckled. “Well then, we be havin’ both quarter, and the kiss o’ the gunner’s daughter fer ye, ye blaggard.”
{ Chapter 9 }
The coughing woke Katalin up. She had vague snippets in her mind of being with the crew in the hold of a ship, of being tossed into a dank cell, but she knew she hadn’t been truly lucid for days. The last thing she fully remembered was Jason above her, surrendering the Windrunner.
She had lost too much blood to maintain consciousness, even though she recalled Frog, desperate above her, trying to quell the blood flow soon after she passed out the first time.
She cracked her eyes open. The rough cough filtered through the wet stone wall in front of her nose.
Pushing herself up, she propped her forehead on the bumpy grey stone, closing her eyes.
The cough came once more.
Her eyes flew open. “Ja…Jason?” She banged on the stone, bruising her palm as her voice came back to her. “Jason? Jason?”
Breath held, she pressed her ear to the stone. Seconds passed.
“Kat? Katalin—is that you?” His voice was muffled. Muffled, but she could hear it.
“Jase? Truly it is you? I thought…I thought…” She couldn’t force her worst fear into actual words.
“I know, Kat.”
His words stopped. Her hand flew up to the wall, fingernails curling against the rock. “Jase?”
“I am here, Kat…I feared—hell—I feared the same with you. Your arm—has the bleeding stopped? Are you injured elsewhere?”
“The blood?” She looked down at her bare upper left arm, where the sleeve had long since been ripped away. In the ray of light from a small open rectangle in the stone cell she was in, she found the wound, her fingers slipping along the dried blood, following the long gash in her skin. “It is scabbed. No more flowing blood.”
Hold Your Breath 03 - My Captain, My Earl Page 8
