Siren's Song

by Constance O'Banyon

  Dominique knew that she must not step outside the part she played. He must not see how frightened she was. This was the time she had to separate her mind from her body, so she moved up against him and parted her lips. "Then I am at your mercy, Captain. But perhaps not unwillingly. You did find me here waiting for you, remember?"

  Judah was not a man to be easily duped. "So, your reason in coming here was merely to see me? It could not be that you were snooping in my belongings, could it?"

  Her shimmering turquoise eyes were guileless.

  "How can you misjudge my intentions? What must I do before you will take notice that I am a woman?"

  He grabbed her by the wrist, and when she tried to get free of him, his grip only tightened. "Who do you report to and who sent you?"

  Now she was truly frightened. "I do not know what you are talking about." She threw back her head and gave him what she hoped would be an alluring look. "You are a handsome man. I like strong," she bent her head so her lips brushed his, "exciting men."

  Judah released her wrists, and his hands moved up her back to clasp her head. "Do you now?"

  His lips slid softly across hers, causing her to tremble weakly. "Let us just see how far you are willing to go to prove it tome."

  She closed her eyes as his lips glided down her neck to rest at the curve of her breasts.

  "If you will tell me what you like," he whispered, "I will know better how to please you."

  Dominique wondered why she heard anger in his voice. Was it because he did not believe her? Somehow she had to be more convincing. Gently, she took his hand and placed a kiss on the palm. In quivering delight, and with a boldness that took her by surprise, she placed his hand on her breast.

  She had been watching him to see his reaction, and it was as if a sudden fire had ignited in his blue eyes.

  "Oh, lady, you do so sorely tempt me." His voice was deep and raspy. He slowly ran his thumb and forefinger over her nipple, causing it to strain against his hand.

  Judah grabbed her, bringing her body against his and pressing her to him. "Your song is so sweet, little siren, so sweet."

  There was a quick knock on the door, and Judah released her with a frown of impatience. "Wait here and I will send whoever it is away."

  Dominique watched him move to the door and jerk it open.

  "Well," he said impatiently, "what do you want?"

  "Begging your pardon, Cap'n," Tom said. "I'm looking for Miss Charbonneau. She's supposed to be helping me mend the sails, and she's been lax in her duty."

  A grateful Dominique welcomed the interruption. Now she could escape without the captain being suspicious. She scooted off the bed and hurried to the door. "Tom, I am sorry if you had to come looking for me. I know you need my help."

  Tom took in the condition of her tumbled hair and reached out his hand to her, which she quickly took. "Come with me and go about your chores and stop annoying the cap'n."

  As she hurried out the door, she was surprised to hear Judah's laughter. His response was most unsettling, and it piqued her a bit that he was not more disappointed to see her go.

  When they were safely out of hearing, Tom halted. "Miss Dominique, I don't know what you're doing on this ship and I'm not even going to ask. But if your reasons concern the cap'n, you be playing a dangerous game."

  "I know, Tom."

  "If you have any notions . .. you and him . .. well," his face reddened and he focused his eyes on a spot just above her head. "I have heard it said that the cap'n will never love a woman because his heart was buried with his dead wife." Now he did look at Dominique, with warning in his expression. "The cap'n is a man with healthy appetites, and he's had his share of women, so I would advise you to have a care. I can't always watch over you and rescue you like I did today."

  "I'll try to stay out of trouble, Tom. But there is something I must do."

  "What is it?"

  "I cannot tell even you."

  "I know not what game you play, but the cap'n's a smart one and no one is going to best him. You remember that and stay far away from him. You've got to promise me that you won't go into his cabin alone."

  She inhaled deeply, thinking how close she had come to being discovered today. "Tom, I can only promise you that I will be more careful in the future."

  "And you won't see the captain alone?" he prodded.

  She shook her head. "Not if I can help it. He frightens me."

  "Then you learned something today," Tom said, nodding his head in satisfaction. "Go on to your cabin and rest now. I'll see that no one bothers you."

  Dominique moved away, suddenly feeling very weary. She was confused by troubled thoughts that she did not understand. There was a part of her that was deeply disappointed that she had not stayed with the forbidding Captain Gallant.

  13

  There was a festive mood in the air because the Tempest had been repaired and was ready to sail with the morning tide.

  Everyone had gone ashore to celebrate but for Tom, who was on watch, and two men who were still too ill to participate. Tom grudgingly observed the merrymaking from his post. A great bonfire had been built and the flames were licking high, while rum and ale were passed around in liberal amounts. Two men played fiddles, while many of the others danced and sang.

  Dominique stood atop an incline so she would not interfere with the men's pleasure but could still watch the festivities. She was tapping her foot and humming along with the music when she heard someone behind her. She turned to see Dr. Graham approaching.

  "Good evening, Miss Charbonneau. I see you have a good view from here. May I join you?"

  She smiled affectionately at the man she had come to respect. "Yes, please do." Then she looked at him inquiringly. "I recall that the captain said he would put me ashore at the first sighting of land, yet he does not seem inclined to leave me here."

  "He won't. This island is uninhabited but for a native tribe," Ethan informed her as he leaned against a spidery tree, watching her closely. The flames of the fire were reflected on her face, and he was touched by her delicate beauty. Even the oversized male garb she wore could not hide her slender form.

  He did not believe for one moment that she was a woman of the streets. He had spent enough time in the Caribbean to recognize the difference between aristocratic speech and a common dialect. She was definitely from the upper class, no matter how she tried to hide it. Like the captain, Ethan was convinced that she was hiding something.

  Unaware of his thoughts, Dominique turned to him. "When I first came aboard the Tempest, I thought the crew were all murderous pirates with little care for human life. Now, I know them all by name, the names of their wives and sweethearts, and I find nothing about them to fear."

  Ethan wanted to ask her why she had crept aboard the ship if she felt this way, but he suspected that if he did, she would no doubt become secretive again.

  "Your first impression of the crew was not a mistake, Miss Charbonneau," he said dryly. "They are, to a man, treacherous cutthroats, who give their allegiance only to someone who is strong enough to control them and win their respect." He saw that he had startled her. "But you need have no concern," he hastened to add. "You have won them all over, and there is not a man among them who would not defend you with his life."

  The night, the stars, the sound of music, put her in a flirtatious mood. "What about you, Doctor? Would you defend me with your life?"

  His eyes met hers, and he stared at her for a moment, wondering how anyone could ever think she was other than an innocent. "I, like the others, would place myself between you and harm's way. That is why I must warn you to be careful."

  She looked at him inquiringly. "But you just implied that I have nothing to fear from the crew."

  He nodded to a cliff in the distance, where the captain sat alone. "I was not speaking of the crew."

  "I thought Captain Gallant was your friend?"

  "I never had a better one. That is why I can warn you about him. He is not
like other men, for he has guilt and dark misery locked in his heart. There have been many women who have thought they could reach that heart and change him, but they met with only disappointment."

  Her gaze settled on Judah Gallant. She could not see him very well since he was half in darkness, but she could feel his eyes sweep across her. "I do not want his heart, Dr. Graham, and I have no interest in freeing him from the memory of his dead wife."

  "Then what do you want?"

  She fixed her gaze on the fiddle player, wishing she could tell Ethan her secret, but knowing he would never allow her to betray his friend. "We all have something we are running away from, Doctor." She turned back to him. "Except you, perhaps. I believe you know exactly who you are, and you are content with yourself."

  Ethan moved closer to her and took her hand. It was raw and chapped from the work she had done aboard ship, not smooth and soft as it had been when she had first arrived. "I wonder, since you have acted as my nurse, and I have come to count myself your friend, if we might call each other by name. I hasten to mention that even Tom uses your familiar name."

  She allowed his fingers to clasp hers. "Tom just fell into it as his natural right. By not protesting I gave him that right." She smiled. "You already know that my name is Dominique."

  "And I am Ethan." He bowed to her. "At your service, Dominique."

  They turned their attention back to the dancers. After a while, Ethan spoke. "Something is troubling you. Can you tell me what it is? I might be able to help."

  She looked at him with sadness in her eyes. "You cannot help me. No one can."

  Thinking to lighten her mood, he tugged at her hand. "How long has it been since you danced?"

  She remembered the night of her brother's birthday party, the night she found out he had been arrested. "It has been far too long, Ethan."

  "Then come along—tonight you make merry."

  When they reached the bonfire, Ethan whirled her around in time with the music. Suddenly her troubles dropped away and she was laughing and dancing.

  One of the crewmembers came up to her shyly and asked if she would dance with him. Before long she was being passed from partner to partner and her laughter and merriment joined with theirs.

  Judah observed all this with cynicism. But he followed Dominique with his eyes, wishing it was he who had made her laugh. There was a heat in his loins and thundering in his heart. He wanted her, and he despised himself for that weakness. While he watched her go from one man to another, wondering which one she would choose to share her bed that night, he found himself becoming incensed at the thought of another man sharing intimacies with her.

  A sudden awareness left him stunned. He resented every man who touched Dominique, and he even glowered at Ethan as he swung her around. Then they joined hands, bending to move through an arch formed by the others.

  Judah turned his back and deliberately walked away, leaving the sound of merriment behind him.

  After a while, the fire died down and the dancers began to return to their duties. Ethan had to go aboard to see about a patient, so Dominique found herself walking along a stretch of sandy beach beneath a bright full moon.

  She smiled, thinking of how chivalrously the men had treated her. Somewhere along the way she had stopped thinking of them as pirates and cutthroats. The doctor was a gentleman, as was Cornelius, despite his rough ways. Then there was Tom, her self-proclaimed protector, as well as many others who had shown her kindness and respect.

  Dominique paused to look out to sea, wondering which direction she would have to sail to reach her home. She was overcome with melancholy when she thought of her brother and grandfather, and what was happening to them in her absence. She lived every day with the terror that she might not be able to save them, and she was more determined than ever to lure Captain Gallant into her trap. Perhaps, if she could gather the courage, she would even go to his cabin tonight.

  On a sudden impulse, and hoping to find momentary peace, Dominique looked about her to make sure she was alone. When she was satisfied that no one was about, she removed her clothing and waded into the sea. The gentle tug of the waves felt wonderful against her naked body. She dove under water, rode the waves, and then swam to a rock that jutted out of the churning tide. With wild abandon, she climbed up onto its slippery base, allowing the tropical breeze to blow through her hair.

  She was a child of the sea and had always drawn her strength from her island home. Captain Gallant had called her a siren, and perhaps she was. Leaning back against the rock, with the moon as her audience, she hummed an old song her English nurse had sung to her as a child, then she raised her voice and the sweet melody blended with the wind and the night sounds of the sea.

  Oh lonely my heart, I cry for a man to come

  hither—

  come hither and take my hand. But no man came,

  my life to save;

  so I threw myself to the wind and my heart

  to the thundering waves.

  Judah listened, spellbound, as Dominique sang. She was a siren, and her song wound its way about his heart and tore at his mind, bending his resistance to her will. He could not look away when she stood naked and poised, the moonlight turning her body silver.

  When she dove into the waves to swim to shore, he was actually trembling like an eager youth, waiting for her to emerge. He ached to touch her soft skin, to tangle his hands in her hair, to see if her lips were as sweet as he remembered.

  Dominique saw the outline of a man as she raised out of the water, and she could tell that it was Judah. Without an awareness of her nakedness, she walked toward him, unresisting, as if he had cast a spell on her.

  With water streaming down her hair and body, she stood before him, her eyes fused with his.

  "So," he said, "you have chosen me this night."

  She did not understand his meaning, but when he extended his arm to her, she placed her hand in his. Slowly, he pulled her to him. Her breath felt tight in her throat as she waited for contact with his body.

  Judah bent his dark head and lay his cheek against her wet face. "So, little siren, your song was for me and you caught me in your snare after all."

  She made no sound as he scooped up her discarded garments and then lifted her in his arms, carrying her away from the sea. She lay her face against his chest and found that her heart was beating at the same rhythm as his.

  She could not say when the feeling made itself known to her, but it seemed so right that she and this man should be lovers. She was ready to give herself to him tonight without regret.

  It did not matter to her that he was a man who made his way by breaking both the law of God and man. She had found in him a man of honor, a person of high principles, and a man who made her tremble with longing every time he looked at her.

  When they reached a secluded glen, Judah lay her among fragrant white ginger lilies and red orchids. Their sweet aroma blended into a delicate scent that added magic to an already enchanted night.

  He looked at her, starting from her head, pausing at her pointed breasts, then slowly and lingeringly across her stomach. His gaze moved lower, to her most private core, and she had the sensation that he caressed her there, though he did not make a move. She felt the heat rising in her face, brought on by the excitement of his nearness.

  "How many men have told you that you are beautiful?" Judah asked, his hand going to his shirt and pulling it loose from his trousers.

  Dominique fought against a sudden shyness as she watched Judah pull his shirt off and then bend to place it beneath her head.

  "Well," he prodded, "how many?"

  Her lashes swept over her eyes. "They have been too numerous to count."

  He came out of his boots and then unbuckled his belt.

  "And how many men have tasted the fruit of your body?"

  She chose to play the siren he believed her to be. "None that asked so many questions, but again, there have been many."

  Again, Judah resented tha
t Dominique had been with others before him. "Just as I thought," he said, stepping out of his trousers and standing naked before her. "Well, then, one more will make no difference to you, will it? And you should know numerous tricks to hold a man's interest."

  Silvery moonlight touched his body, this man who was so commanding and powerful. The mesmerizing way he was looking at her made Dominique want to press herself against him and allow him to master her body.

  He came down beside her, and she went into his arms, as if she had always belonged there. He expected her to be knowledgeable about a man's body, and she must pretend that she had done this many times before.

  Instinctively, she seemed to know what to do—how to allow her fingers to glide over his corded back while she pressed her hips toward him, her body melting against his swelling hardness.

  She was almost weak with longing when he clasped her face between his hands.

  "You little vixen. You know just how to make a man ache."

  In a daring move—and she did not know where it came from—Dominique leaned forward and softly touched her tongue to his lips. And with further boldness she outlined their fullness, excited and weak when she heard him groan with pleasure at her boldness.

  "Do you know I have dreamed of this moment?" he asked, turning her to her back and hovering above her.

  Somewhere in her subconscious, Dominique wanted to prolong his torment, because for the first time she had control of him. She rolled out from under him and pushed him to his back. "How do we know that this is not a dream," she said in a throaty voice. "Perhaps I shall disappear in a puff of smoke with the coming of the new day."

  Reaching over his head, she plucked an orchid and stroked it ever so gently across his lips, while he watched her, wondering what she would do next, and trying to keep control over the urge to grab her and plunge deep inside her, to bury himself in her sweetness.

  Oh yes, he thought, as she stroked the soft petals of the flower lower, past his stomach, past the V of dark hair and stroking, circling, tantalizing, and teasing his quivering flesh.