She dangled her stocking-clad feet off the bed. The wooden planks beneath her toes creaked as she stood. The floor rocked beneath her, a sudden, violent motion. She swayed back and forth for a moment until a sharp jolt flung her back onto the bed.
A horrified cry hovered in her throat. She was on a ship. Was this stark chamber the captain’s cabin? Her mind raced as she tumbled from the bed and bolted to the door.
The solid oak did not budge. She’d been locked inside, a prisoner. It seemed Jason Kane intended to keep her for himself, at least until he tired of tormenting her.
How long had she been here? By now her father had surely noticed she was missing. A search party would be dispatched. But how would they find her at sea?
Cathy pressed her cheek against the wood. Tears stung her eyes. Even if she found a way to open the door, where would she find refuge on a ship? She was trapped, utterly at the mercy of the devil who’d abducted her.
A shiver of fear crept along the length of her spine. She was being watched.
She heard him before she saw him. “Sleeping Beauty has finally roused from her slumber. And without so much as a kiss.”
He reclined in a leather wing chair. The amused curve of his lips infuriated her.
“You!” Her whispered accusation echoed like a shout through the cabin. “You’ve done this.”
Jason Kane rose and came to her. Cathy trembled with the desire to claw the smug satisfaction from his handsome features.
“I’ve locked you in for your own protection,” he said in a tone so matter-of-fact, he might have been explaining the logic underlying a business venture. “I doubt the men in my crew would hesitate before slaking their appetites on such a beautiful woman.”
She folded her arms over her chest like a shield. “Unlike you?”
His eyes gleamed like onyx, cold and hard. “I’ve no intention of forcing you.”
“So it’s a ransom you’re after,” she said softly. “My father will pay you, but then he will see you hang.”
He shook his head. A predatory gleam lit his eyes. So near she was aware of his every breath, he swept his thumb over her bottom lip.
“I seek revenge, Catherine.”
His words, steel wrapped in velvet, mesmerized her. He towered over her, the raw power he exuded like nothing she’d ever encountered. He could kill her right then and there. She spun away, pressing her palms against the door. The taste of terror rose like bile in her throat. Kane placed his hands on her shoulders, gently, his breath warm against her nape.
He wants me to plead. He wants to see my fear. You can go to hell, Captain Kane.
She summoned her courage and squared her shoulders. “I have done nothing to earn your wrath, sir.”
“You will be paying your father’s debt, Catherine.”
She swallowed hard, determined not to cower before him. “My father owes you nothing.”
He shook his head. “In due time, I will explain my reasons. But for now, you need only to know I’ve claimed you as payment for a debt long owed.”
Catherine steeled herself against the terrified murmurs deep within her. “Do you plan to kill me, sir?” Her voice was quiet but unwavering.
He cupped her chin. His thumb stroked her bottom lip, his touch almost tender. The pirate studied her for a moment, seeming to ponder her question. “You are lovely, Catherine. Much lovelier than I was told.” His words were a caress. His fingers laced through her hair. He pulled her to him, capturing her mouth with surprisingly gentle possession. The warmth of his lips intoxicated her, the sensual exploration stirring heat deep within her core. Her knees wobbled, threatening to rebel. Shameless, she leaned into his muscular length, drinking in the heady scent of a male in his prime.
Kane released her abruptly. His eyes gleamed with feral pleasure at the intensity of her response. “Does that answer your question?”
Her heart racing, she struggled to catch her breath. The scent of his musk and the warmth of his touch ignited a fire within her. Was she truly wanton? She’d been kissed before. In truth, she’d lain with a man before. Despite her father’s watchful eye, she’d learned more than the correct manner in which to enter income and expenses from the unassuming bookkeeper he’d hired to manage his accounts. Now the memory of that sweet yet tentative man paled beside the brazen pirate who’d stolen her right from under her father’s nose.
He drew back from her, standing at arm’s length. His black silk shirt outlined his muscular torso to perfection. His gaze fell upon her mouth and her pulse quickened as thoughts of his plunder coursed through her. She dragged in a breath, then another, banishing the primitive thoughts to a place deep in the recesses of her mind. He is a savage, a black-hearted scoundrel intent on revenge. The yearning he’d conjured within her only intensified her terror. Even my own senses betray me. She was at the mercy of a man who would ravish her then cast her to the sharks when he tired of her. She could not succumb to her most primitive instincts. She must resist him.
“You don’t want me yet, Catherine,” he said, his voice low and raw. “But you will.”
Catherine inched away. Her legs wobbled as the cabin floor undulated with the ship’s movement beneath her feet. She steeled herself. She would not surrender to his touch again.
He captured her in his arms with one stealthy motion. His raw laugh sent a new wave of fear crashing through her brain. His mouth laid claim to hers, his tongue plundering her defenses, destroying her resolve to resist him. He tasted of rum and spice, the blend further stimulating her senses. His lips moved to her nape, teasing the sensitive flesh with his teeth. A soft moan escaped her lips. Caught in a whirlpool of sensation, she fought the senses threatening to drag her under, to sweep her beyond the point of hope, of survival.
Her hand slipped to her hair, seeking and finding the mother-of-pearl pin that secured her upswept tresses. As thick as a quill, the elegant hairpin spanned the length of her ring finger. Wielded with a careful aim, it would serve as a passable weapon.
Kane continued his relentless conquest of her senses. Her thoughts swirled in a blur of passion and fear. He meant to destroy her. She had to create a chance to escape. If she struck at his throat, the pin would disable him. An image flooded her senses. Kane’s lifeblood seeping from the wound, his flesh torn, perhaps beyond healing. Revulsion filled her. She’d never purposely brought harm to anyone and now she contemplated killing a man.
There is no choice.
Twisting against his unyielding length, she wrenched free of his hold. Her arm arced upward, the pin slicing through the air. At the last instant, her stomach clenched. She faltered. Cursing her weakness, she shifted the course of the pin away from his throat, plunging the sharp point into his shoulder, piercing the vulnerable flesh above his collarbone.
Kane’s sharply indrawn breath betrayed his shock and pain. His fingers curved around the handle of the pin she’d embedded in his flesh.
“Well done, Miss Farrell,” he drawled. “It seems you have a great deal more spirit than I gave you credit for. Taming you will be more interesting than I thought.”
Her knees threatened to buckle. Kane’s velvety tone did not disguise the menace in his meaning. His mouth flattened to a stark line. The color drained from his features as he tore the pin from his body. Holding the makeshift weapon before him, he examined it, his gaze fixed on his blood streaked along the slender shaft.
“I must remember to have you by my side should we encounter the British,” he remarked casually. He glanced at his shoulder, his gaze lingering for a moment over the deep crimson surrounding the jagged circle the pin had torn in the fabric. “The king’s navy would never expect such ferocity from a woman.”
His fingers closed around her arm. He brought her to him, holding her with a surprising lack of violence as he threaded a hand through her hair. Arching his dark brows, he removed another pin from the unruly tresses.
“Shall I search you for weapons? What other surprises do you have hidden under th
at flimsy gown?”
Cathy pressed her lips together. She’d be damned if she’d answer his taunting inquiry. Seeming to read her thoughts, Kane smiled and caressed the curve of her cheek.
“Don’t worry, love. My plans for you will prove infinitely more interesting than murder.”
And then he was gone. The heavy door swung shut behind him. She heard the key scrape the lock, and then silence filled the small chamber, clinging like a fog as she faced the fear and the longing he’d awakened within her.
* * * * *
The sun’s rays streamed through the porthole, dancing over Catherine’s face. She’d managed to fall into a troubled sleep, and now, huddled beneath the quilt, she hugged her knees to her chest, praying she’d escape this nightmare she knew to be all too real. How long had it been since Jason Kane left her locked inside the chamber? The night had passed, and he’d left her unscathed. Perhaps ransom was indeed what he sought.
A thunderous knock jolted her to awareness. “Are you clothed?” A gruff, unfamiliar male voice called through the door.
A shiver trickled along her spine. Kane’s words about his crew and their likely reaction to a woman in their midst echoed in her brain. Her arms clutched her legs more tightly, as if she could shield herself.
Best not to let the bastard think I fear him. “Of course I’m clothed,” she responded with more spirit than she felt.
She heard the bolt slide open. A mountain of a man with a mop of shaggy blond hair ducked through the portal. Avoiding her eyes, he placed a tray of food on the small table in the corner of the room.
He kept his gaze directed firmly at the ground. “The cap’n would have my head if I came in here when you weren’t decent.”
The hulking man’s uneasiness at the mention of the captain unnerved her. Dear God, what was going to happen to her? If this giant quaked at the very mention of her captor, how would she survive the blackheart’s wrath?
“I appreciate your care for my modesty.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
He raised his eyes at her words. “I’m more concerned for my own skin.” Spoken bluntly, the words choked raw from his throat. “The cap’n doesn’t share what’s his.”
She rose from the bed and struggled to gain her footing on the unstable floor, clinging to the bedpost to steady herself.
“Your captain intends to see me dead. Can you help me?”
Sad resignation marked his expression as he shook his head. “I’d like to keep my neck just the way it is.”
Foolish to appeal to instincts the man doesn’t possess. The hulk doesn’t have a chivalrous bone in his body. Perhaps another tactic would garner his assistance. Cathy released her grip on the bedpost and drew near enough to smell the dried sweat on his unwashed body. Steeling herself to ignore the rancid odor, she set her mouth into a pensive pout, placed her hands on her hips and leaned closer. His beady eyes widened as his gaze lit on the bare flesh of her bosom she displayed. “My father is a very rich man,” she whispered. “I will pay you.”
“Sorry, missy, but you’ve already been claimed. You’re the cap’n’s now.” The giant turned away.
Bitter tears of frustration welled in her eyes. “I don’t belong to the captain. I belong to no man.”
He merely pointed at her food. “I’ve brought you something to eat.”
“I won’t touch it.” The urge to throw the tray of food at the repulsive man nearly overtook her good sense. “It’s probably poisoned. I’d rather starve.”
“Eat it, missy. You’re a bit thin for the cap’n’s taste. You’ll want to please him. Things will go easier for you if you do.”
“I have no intention of…pleasing him. He’s nothing more than a common criminal.”
The hulk appeared to deliberate the truth of her statement. He shrugged. “He’s not intending to give you up. You’d best face that fact.” He paused for a moment, seeming to consider his words carefully. “Cap’n Kane is a fair man, but he can be brutal if crossed. It will be better for you if you don’t provoke him.”
“You are afraid of him.” She spoke the words as a condemnation.
Regarding her with expressionless eyes, he ran a massive hand through his hair. “Not afraid. But I respect the cap’n. He’s the master of this ship, and his word is law. Now he is your master.”
Chapter Three
Cathy stared at the untouched plate. Her stomach had begun to demand nourishment, but the idea of choking down the bland, unappealing fare twisted her belly in knots. She speared a small bite, lifting it gingerly to her mouth. The boiled oats had settled into a thoroughly unappealing gray paste. Forcing the food past her lips, she chewed quickly and swallowed, trying her best to ignore the thick, gummy texture.
The sound of the bolt scraping against the lock grated against her ears. The door opened. Jason Kane loomed in the doorway, the blazing sun against the horizon creating an unearthly aura around his silhouette. The shadow of new beard enhanced his strong jaw. Her gaze settled on his firm, full mouth. What would it feel like to kiss him again, to feel his lips on hers, on her skin, on those intensely wanton places that yearned for a man’s touch? She blinked. You see through me, don’t you, Captain Kane? I hope to be strong. Once again, an image of an utterly seductive Satan formed in her mind.
“I trust your quarters are comfortable, Catherine.” He spoke her name like a caress.
“Given the circumstances.”
He sat beside her, tracing her chin with his fingertip with surprising gentleness. “I understand your fear.” His eyes did not waver as he studied her face, the restrained heat in their darkness posing a stark contrast to the soothing tone of his words. “How can I convince you there’s no need to fear me?”
His hand moved from her face to her hair, stroking her auburn tendrils as though she were a precious possession. “I won’t harm you,” he continued. “Why would I harm my prize?”
His fingers laced through her long strands. He drew Cathy closer to him. “Such a delicacy. I may keep you for myself.”
She jerked her head away, tilting her chin away from him. “I won’t belong to you or any man.” Her gaze fell to her hands. “Never.”
“You have a fire within,” he whispered as he nuzzled her neck. “You’ve learned to hide it, but I know…” His fingertips trailed over her shoulders, his heated touch gentle. He leaned closer, tracing the curve of her throat with his lips. The stubble on his chin raked her skin, the sensation kindling a strangely pleasant warmth. Cathy closed her eyes, struggling to block out the pleasure of his touch. He should sicken her. She should recoil from each sweep of his flesh over hers. Instead, she fought the instinct to melt into his warmth, to savor his strength, his power.
His exploration continued, slow and deliberate. His palm cupped her breast, the tenderness in his touch drawing forth a heated response. Waves of heat spread through her body, threatening the icy shield she’d erected. She closed her eyes, listening to the sigh echoing through the chamber, realizing in a daze she’d heard her own soft plea…not for mercy, but for more of his touch, more of his kiss. As if caught in a spell, she arched against his possession as his fingertips caught the bud of her nipple in a caress so sensual, her toes curled.
“So responsive,” he murmured, his throaty voice rough with passion. “I’ll teach you to want me, Catherine.”
She dragged in a breath. His scent, the essence of a healthy male in his prime blended with the salt of the sea and the subtle aroma of whiskey, filled her with awareness she couldn’t deny. He stirred her senses, kindling the small spark of desire in her belly to a blaze.
He caught her hand in his, pressing it to his broad chest. A small shiver coursed along her spine as he held her palm over the hard, melded flesh and muscle and bone, his heart’s throb steady and strong beneath her touch. “Feel what you do to me, Catherine? You may be my prisoner. But you are by no means without power.”
She felt lightheaded, the pulsing beat beneath her fingertips offering unde
niable proof of his words. He drew her hand lower, guiding it to the thick bulge against the taut black fabric. “Feel my need for you,” he commanded in a soft growl against her nape. “Feel the power you have over me.”
Her touch tentative, she pressed her hand to his swollen shaft. His lips grazed a torturous path along the sensitive curve of her throat. Tingles shot through her body. Her pulse quickened as her fingertips explored the length of his arousal. An ache, sweet and intense, radiated from her womb.
“You have been with a man before?” he murmured as his mouth trailed over her flesh.
“Yes.” Cathy managed to utter the single word.
Without warning, he dragged her to her feet. “I have no patience for…this,” he said as he inspected her. “This rag of a dress conceals your beauty from me.” The corners of his mouth hitched into a wicked smile. The dark triumph in his hooded eyes provided her only warning as his fingers curled over her bodice, rending the thin fabric from the neckline to the hem with one quick, savage motion. His hands moved to what was left of her dress and peeled it from her body.
Stripped to her chemise, Cathy bit her trembling lip. Her pebbled nipples peaked against the translucent lawn garment. His gaze trailed lower, lighting on the dark triangle at the juncture of her thighs, but she made no attempt to cover herself. She watched her captor in silence, her breath quickening as the ache within her deepened to a demanding throb.
“You’re beautiful, Catherine.” His gravelly voice caressed the words. His fingers laced through her hair, pulling her against him with a sensual demand that took her breath away.
His mouth plundered hers as his hand cupped a breast. He freed her lips, his breath ragged against the curve of her shoulder. “Bare yourself for my eyes,” he ordered in a low voice.
“I can’t… You can’t expect me to…” she protested, horrified by the tremors in her voice. She’d resolved she wouldn’t let him see her fear, but her horror broke through.
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