This Rebel Heart

by Patricia Hagan

  "Big British steamers loaded with arms and luxuries from Europe unload at Bermuda or Nassau and take on cotton for their return voyage," he explained. "The last miles, which involve slipping into Confederate ports, are covered by swift, lean light-draft ships like mine. You may have noticed the Ariane is painted black. I had that done when I heard about the impending blockade and knew what my course would be.

  "We should be in Wilmington in another week, if the weather clears," he went on.

  Suddenly Julie jumped to her feet, fists clenched at her sides. "Derek, I demand that I be returned to Savannah. You have committed a crime, you know. If you'll just see me safely home, I'll do everything in my power to see that you aren't punished for what you've done. If you don't release me, then I can't be responsible for the consequences. I have a brother, you know, who loves me very much. He won't sit back idly when he hears of my fate, even if it means risking his own life."

  Derek's lips formed a crooked smile. "Julie, when the ransom is paid, you'll be returned. Not before. Why don't you use the time to map out a new course for your life? One that doesn't include marriage to a man you'll never love."

  Hot tears of frustration sparkled in her eyes. "Why are you doing this? I know you're greedy for money, but this is insane! What if Virgil doesn't have the ransom you ask for? And what if my mother can't raise it? All we had is in the hold of this ship."

  She whirled in a complete circle, throwing her hands up in the air. "It's madness! Dear God, what can you be thinking? I'm in the hands of a lunatic!"

  "You've enjoyed being in my hands, and you know it."

  "Oh, is that all you think of, you—you animal!" She faced him, trembling with fury. How she ached to slap his smug face. "Go ahead and be done with it. Take me. Have your fill of my body, then set me free."

  Derek never liked to lose control, but her caustic accusations and her sniping were starting to seep beneath his hard exterior. His eyes narrowed. He wanted her, true. He'd spent many sleepless nights tossing and turning in his bed as he remembered their times together. But now... now with her standing before him with those flashing eyes, that arrogant smile upon her lips, he knew he couldn't have taken her had he been about to penetrate at that very moment.

  "You give me no more pleasure than any other woman I've ever bedded," he lashed out at her, his body trembling with rage. "In fact, I've known much better, so don't puff up your silly female pride and think I brought you on board ship because I was panting with desire."

  "Weren't you?" She continued to rankle him. "If you say you don't want me, you're lying."

  She gave her long, silky hair a toss. "Go on! Take me! Have your fill. Take me again and again, and then set me free."

  His nostrils flared as the muscles in his jaw and neck began to twitch.

  "I don't know how much ransom you've demanded, but surely you can take some of it out in trade, can't you? I mean, you did go to a lot of trouble to have me kidnapped. You must have planned it all well in advance."

  All the long days and nights locked in her cabin had taken their toll on her nerves. Julie felt she had reached the breaking point and could control her tears no longer.

  She lifted shaking fingers that she fastened on the bodice of her dress. Then, with a rough jerk, she snatched it downward, exposing her breasts. She loosed the stays and stepped out of the garment, kicking it aside before struggling with her undergarments.

  She stood before him completely naked, hands on her hips, legs spread apart. "Now," she hissed, thrusting her breasts upward, "take me, you bastard."

  He made no move to touch her as his gaze moved slowly up and down her body.

  "Well, isn't this what you wanted?" she taunted, her voice rising shrilly.

  He grabbed her shoulders and shook her so violently that her head bobbed helplessly to and fro, her eyes mirroring the fright she was unable to conceal.

  "Hell, yes, I want you," he cried. "A man would have to be a fool or an eunuch not to. But that doesn't mean I have to have you."

  He released her so abruptly that she stumbled and fell to the floor. He made no move to assist her as he coldly said, "You don't mean a damn thing to me except a quarter of a million in gold, Julie. When I've got that, you'll be released."

  She stared up at him in hatred and confusion. "You may not have raped my body, but you've raped my mind and soul and left me with nothing. Are you satisfied?"

  Lifting herself up, she made her way to the bed, where she lay down and gave way to sobs that shook her body convulsively.

  Derek stood quietly staring at her. God, she was beautiful. The firm roundness of her buttocks, the creamy skin... how he longed to stretch out on top of her and take her again and again.

  She continued to cry.

  Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he reached for the blanket that had been folded neatly at its foot and spread it over her. "I'm not completely mercenary. I actually did you a favor."

  "A favor?" She raised herself up on her elbows and turned to stare at him in wonder. "Are you out of your mind? You think holding me for ransom is doing me a favor? And my mother is probably worried sick—"

  "When the ransom is paid, you'll be set free, as I told you. As for your mother, she had her servant with her, so she wasn't left alone."

  He smiled. "And the favor, milady, lies in giving you additional time to reconsider marriage to Virgil Oates."

  Her long lashes swept her moist cheeks as she blinked in bewilderment. "If I mean no more to you than money, why do you concern yourself with my future?"

  Raising up as she was, her breasts dangled free, barely brushing the bed. Derek felt his pulse quicken. Taking a deep, ragged breath, he turned his face away.

  "Suppose I give you a portion of the ransom? That would give you a start on your own. You could go north and search for your brother yourself. Would that make up for some of the injustices you feel you've suffered at my hands?"

  "If my mother somehow manages to raise the money herself, then it would be partly mine, anyway." She stared at him thoughtfully. "But what if you don't get the ransom? What will you do with me then?"

  He shrugged. "We'll deal with that when the time comes. Till then, things would be a lot more pleasant if we could at least pretend to be friends."

  "Friends? You're out of your mind." She laughed harshly.

  "If we can reach some sort of understanding, I'll let you go topside for fresh air and sunshine. You could take your meals with my officers and have some companionship. I'm worried about you. You don't look well."

  He pointed out that they might be together for some time. "In my ransom note, I gave the name of a contact in Wilmington, but there's no telling how long it will take for your mother to get in touch with him. As soon as we unload and take on a new cargo, we'll make another run. It might be a month before we return."

  She pursed her lips, then nodded. "All right. We'll declare a truce. I may loathe you and despise you, but I'll put up a front if it means getting out of this cabin."

  "That's a wise decision." Grinning, he slapped his knee and stood. "The storm's abating. Suppose you get dressed and well go topside. It'll do you good."

  She padded over to where her clothes lay scattered on the floor, frowning as she realized she'd destroyed her dress in her angry outburst. No matter. She moved to her trunk, with its abundance of dresses. Long ago she'd realized the reason her baggage was not sent with her to Bermuda. Derek had known she would be returning once her mother was settled and his plan could be carried out.

  As she dressed, she noticed Derek position himself so he could watch her. His behavior was puzzling. She had offered herself to him and been rejected. She had goaded him to such fury he had slapped her. Yet he had asked for a truce for the duration of the time they would be together. It was baffling.

  Memories of their hours of passion danced through her mind, yet he could look at her naked body and not take her. What kind of man was he? A darting glance downward told her he wanted her.


  Finally she smoothed back her hair and murmured, Tm ready."

  His eyes sparkled as he whispered, "You're lovely, Julie, as always."

  He wrapped his fingers about her tiny hand, which she felt was lost in his grasp. Then he led her up on deck, where a light, misty rain was still falling. The distant sky still crackled with lightning.

  They moved together to the railing, watching as the crew began to appear and clean up after the storm.

  Suddenly Julie stiffened and squeezed Derek's hand. He followed her startled gaze and saw the strange light flickering high up on the masts. It danced along the spars like stark, cold flames, casting an eerie light as it outlined all that it touched. The air was filled with the smell of smoldering ozone.

  Several men cried out in fright and backed away. Julie stood rigid, still holding tightly to Derek's hand. "It's beautiful," she whispered in awe. "Should I be afraid?"

  He chuckled. She was so refreshingly honest at times that he found it amusing. "It's called Saint Elmo's fire," he explained. "It's a phenomenon often seen at sea during rough weather. I don't really understand it, but I've heard it's called Saint Elmo's fire after the patron saint of Mediterranean sailors. Seamen regard it as the visible sign of his guardianship over them."

  "It's beauty is awesome."

  And then it disappeared. Julie relaxed her grip on Derek's hand, quite suddenly, as though just realizing how tightly she had been holding onto him. He noticed and smiled to himself.

  The storm was moving further out to sea, but the breeze was still stiff. Derek cupped his hands about his mouth and shouted to his men, "Hoist the sails. Let's take advantage of the wind. Everyone to his post. We can make good time in the wake of the storm!"

  Julie watched as the sailors scurried about, each knowing exactly what he was supposed to do. Occasionally she could hear someone shout, and there was the sound of a sail snapping loudly against the wind, the creaking of the riggings, and water breaking on either side of the bow. The seas were still rough.

  As her eyes scanned the darkness, she could make out other objects besides the men. Her gaze fell on the spot by the railing where she'd sung that night, then traveled on to the place where Shad had tried to ravish her. With a shiver, she asked, "Whatever happened to him?"

  "Who?" Derek looked down at her, puzzled.

  "Shad Harky." A wave of revulsion swept over her.

  Derek did not answer. Instead he turned his face toward the water, ignoring her.

  "Derek," she persisted, tugging at his sleeve. "What happened to him? Did you set him adrift with the Yankees? Did he join up with them?"

  "No." He spoke so coldly that she felt a chill. "I guess you could say he joined up with the sharks."

  Nausea welled up in her throat. "You—you mean..." and she shook with revulsion, unable to continue.

  He nodded. "There's a lot you don't understand about the sea, Julie. The man was a mutineer. I dealt with him accordingly. Along with his friends. We forced them overboard. We saw sharks in the area. It was over quickly."

  "Oh, my God, no..." She covered her mouth with both hands and stumbled to the railing, stomach heaving as the image marched in review through her shocked mind.

  "It's the way of the sea." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "You've got to understand that if there's disorder and rebellion on board a ship, shipping cannot survive.

  "I gave Harky a second chance," he pointed out, "and he wanted me dead. I had no choice but to pass judgment and have him and the others executed."

  Swallowing hard, Julie struggled for composure. Finally she was able to speak. "Perhaps what you say is true, but it still seems cruel, barbaric."

  "Life is cruel. Now come. I'll take you back to your cabin, and tomorrow morning you'll join me for breakfast. I'm going to make sure you start eating as you should. I don't want you getting sick on me again."

  She could not resist a waspish reply. "Heavens, no. If something happened to me, you wouldn't be able to collect your ransom, would you?"

  He slid a powerful arm about her shoulders and turned her toward the steps leading downward. "Julie, let's don't spar with each other. We agreed on a truce."

  "I suppose we did, but it's so easy to hate you when I think how you've messed up my life and the way you've probably caused my mother to worry herself sick."

  "Ahh, but one day you'll thank me, little one." He grinned down at her.

  When they reached her cabin, he told Julie he would not lock her door. "I see no need. Where would you go, anyway? We're miles from land, and I don't think you want to feed the sharks."

  She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. He was so handsome, illuminated as he was by the lantern's cozy glow. In his eyes she could recognize the desire for her that he refused to acknowledge. And she could feel a stirring in her own loins as she remembered the hunger he had awakened in her.

  "Good night, Julie." He turned to leave, but suddenly she reached out and clutched his arm. With a raised eyebrow, he turned to look at her.

  She could not put her feelings into words. She knew only that she had spent many lonely hours alone in her bed in the tiny cabin, and here stood a man who could answer all the needs he had taught her body to crave.

  Slowly, deliberately, she reached to unfasten her stays, letting her dress fall to her waist. In seconds her breasts were once more exposed, and he feasted upon them with his eyes. Trancelike, silently, he reached out to press each nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

  Closing her eyes, she moaned softly with the ecstatic rush that charged through her body. St. Elmo's Fire. She felt as though she were actually lightning dancing along the spars as her whole body ignited in sky-shattering explosions.

  Her dress slipped to the floor, and she stepped from her pantalets with ease. He lifted her in his arms to take her inside the cabin, then kicked the door shut. He placed her tenderly upon the bed, then his hands seemed to travel everywhere at once. She writhed, moaning aloud with pleasure.

  Then he was spread-eagling her, moving her thighs apart to probe with his swollen, seeking member, which he had released from his trousers. She gasped as she felt him enter, marveling that her small body could receive a man of such magnitude. In the beginning, when they first made love, she had felt some pain, but it had soon dimmed. Now she was able to take all of him with ease.

  Sighing, she wrapped her legs around his narrow waist and dug her heels into his buttocks, spurring him on as she wriggled her hips beneath him.

  There was no world but this world. No pleasure but this.

  And together, like the sails that unfurled against the never-ending sky, they soared to the winds... leaving everything else behind.

  Chapter 11

  It was obvious to Captain Arnhardt that the man standing before him was quite angry.

  "I asked you a question, sir." Edsel spoke coldly, evenly. "How much longer do you plan to keep that woman on this ship? And I'm not the only one who wants to know. The crew is concerned as well. You know a lot of them believe it is bad luck to have a woman on board."

  Derek drew in his breath, an awesome sight, for he was bare-chested, and his muscles rippled along his shoulders and down his arms, making him appear even more formidable. His crewmen jokingly said he must exercise by lifting the ship's cannons when no one was looking. A powerful man, strength seemed to exude from every pore of his skin.

  "Garris, I don't give a damn what you or anyone else thinks. You seem to forget this is my ship, and I'll run it as I see fit. Now don't bother me with superstitious prattle. We'll be in Bermuda by sunrise, and we've got a cargo to unload."

  He turned back to his pacing on the afterdeck and peered ahead into the murk, worrying once again about the wisdom of running ahead of the wind on such a dark night. There were lookouts posted to watch for other ships' running lights, but the danger of a collision was still a risk to be reckoned with.

  "Sir!"

  Derek's head snapped about at the sharp tone. "I said I wasn't discuss
ing it. Now get to your post. I don't care how good a bank pilot we've got working for us, navigating around the coral is always tricky. It's your job to help him. Now be on your way. You're trying my patience."

  Edsel's face reddened as he exploded, "I don't give a damn whether your patience is tried or not, Captain, because mine is exhausted."

  Derek's eyes widened. He was not accustomed to being addressed in such a manner by anyone, much less one of his men.

  "Go ahead and get mad," Edsel rushed on. "It's time we got something settled. There's not going to be any ransom paid on her, and you know it. We've docked in Wilmington three times now, and there's been no money waiting."

  He pounded his fist on the railing, his body heaving with rage. "Dammit, Captain, it's been over four months. If her people were going to pay that ransom, they would've done it. Maybe her mother died or something. Maybe she couldn't get the money."

  He sucked in a deep breath. "So here we are, running blockades with a blasted female aboard. It isn't right, and the men are getting more and more indignant over it. I say leave her where you got her—in Bermuda. And let's get back to the business of sailing."

  Derek turned his face back to the sea. The salt spray felt cool on his warm skin. He was mad. Hell, he was madder than he could remember being in a long, long time. And he was fighting for control. Early in life, he'd had to learn to keep a tight rein on his anger. Because of his size and strength, he could easily kill a man with his bare hands. So he had learned to intimidate with a look, or by flexing his enormous muscles. And it usually worked. But this time the man confronting him was hell-bent on making his point. They'd been friends, as well as a shipping team for a long time. Derek wasn't about to hurt him, but dammit, he wished Edsel would back off while he still had those reins in check.... He was approaching the breaking point.

  Through gritted teeth, without facing him, Derek ground out the words: "That's all, Garris. You're pushing."