Catalina's Caress

by Sylvie F. Sommerfield

  "I'm sorry, Travis, I'm just so ..." She shrugged and reached for her wine glass again, to calm her nerves. All of her tension was not, to her deeper distress, due to worry over Seth. Some was caused by the pair who sat together so intimately on the other side of the salon.

  Travis smiled as he emptied their second bottle of wine and ordered a third. He watched Catalina's eyes glimmer from the effect of the wine, and he began to think of the pleasure awaiting him.

  ❧

  Willie moved down the semi-dark hall very slowly, prepared to get away quickly should anyone question him. But that was unlikely for most of the passengers were having dinner. He finally stopped before the door he wanted and knelt before it.

  He took a thin piece of metal from his pocket. It was four inches long and had a small hook on the end.

  Slipping it between the door and the doorjamb he manipulated it for several seconds, until he heard a soft click. He smiled to himself and stood. Then he reached for the handle, turned it, and the door swung open.

  Willie glanced up and down the hall. Then he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

  Chapter 13

  "The dinner was exquisite." Catalina laughed. "And I have most certainly had too much wine. I'm slightly inebriated. I would really like to go to my stateroom, Travis."

  "One more glass before we ... sleep."

  "No, no really, I don't think I should have any more."

  She rose, and Travis had no choice but to stand. Catalina wavered for a moment. Then, with Travis's hand on her elbow, she walked from the dining room.

  As Marc watched a scowl drew his brows together. His mouth was a firm line of ill-concealed anger. She was laughing, going with the man to share his bed for the night. He wanted to put his hands around her slender throat and squeeze until she begged ... until she spoke the truth ... until she ... He turned to face China again, not wanting to see them leave.

  "I wonder," China said thoughtfully.

  "Wonder what?"

  "If things truly are the way they appear."

  "Don't doubt it, China."

  "Then why did she deny she's his mistress?"

  "What?"

  "I said, why did she tell Shawna that she is not his mistress. Surely it is obvious to all, and she must know that he booked passage in adjoining rooms. Yet she denies it. For the short time she was at our table I sensed—"

  "China, I'm in no mood for female intuition. Stop trying to see things that aren't there because you don't approve of what I'm doing."

  "Marc ... what are your plans for her?"

  He smiled at her over the rim of his glass. "Let the lovers enjoy tonight. Before they can do so again I intend to rid the Belle of one Travis Sherman. After that"—he chuckled—"we shall see how we can add to the illustrious Catalina Carrington's reputation."

  He tossed off the last of his drink and then rose before China could offer anymore arguments. He was already in more difficulty than he cared to admit.

  "I'm going up on deck for a smoke before I go to bed. Good night."

  "Marc..."

  "Good night, China." He reached down to touch her cheek. "Stop worrying about me, and for God's sake, China, she doesn't deserve one minute of your thoughts. She just isn't worth it. Eventually you're going to see the truth. In the meantime, just be there. All right?"

  China put her hand over Marc's and her eyes glowed with affection. "As you were always there. I'm sorry, Marc. I just don't want you to make a mistake that will hurt you. You have been hurt enough."

  "Good night," he said again. Then, ignoring her pleading look, he turned and left the room.

  China watched Marc's broad shoulders until he was gone. Within moments of his departure, she rose and returned to her cabin.

  Marc climbed the steps to the top deck. As he did he took a long thin cigar from his breast pocket. He placed it between his teeth, then paused to strike a match against the rail. Turning his back to the breeze, he lit the cigar and then tossed the match overboard. There were no other people about so he walked to the stern of the boat, folded his arms on the rail, and watched the huge paddle wheel slowly churn the water into white froth.

  The night was warm, and the moon, full and golden, seemed to be resting on the water. It sent a path of light across the river, dappling it with mellow gold.

  No matter how hard he fought her, how deliberately, Catalina slipped within the barriers and touched him. The scent of her perfume spun webs of remembrance, and he could almost taste the soft moistness of her lips. Again he held her cool sensuous body in his arms, tangled his hands in the thick sable shadows of her hair.

  White smoke curled past his narrowed eyes as he fought his inability to blot out the vision that leapt into his mind—Catalina writhing in passion in the arms of Travis Sherman.

  ❧

  Catalina closed the door of her stateroom and slid the bolt locking it. The room was lit only by the lamp in the far corner. Its light touched the bed with a mellow glow, but left the balance of the room in degrees of shadow.

  She moved slowly, laughing softly at her own inability to make her body obey her commands. Awkwardly, she worked the buttons of her dress, then let it drop to the floor, deciding she could pick it up in the morning. Loosening her many petticoats, she let them follow the gown. In her silk and lace shift Catalina's lush charms were evident. She went to the small table where her brush and comb lay, and sat on a low bench. As she removed the pins from her hair it fell about her in a tangled mass. She brushed it only from habit, and only for a few minutes, for she already felt the effects of the wine. Catalina promised herself not to be so foolish again. She had come to find out about her brother, not to make herself so incapacitated she was unable to find out anything.

  She set the brush down wearily, and, her eyes heavy, she walked to the bed. She didn't even bother to change into her night gown, which would have covered much more of her than the scant piece of silk and lace she wore, but slid beneath the covers. In a few seconds she had drifted into a half-awake, half-asleep state.

  Her mind, freed to wonder, drifted to Marc. In this state her emotions took over and she delved into memories. Memories of the touch of his hand, of the hard strength of his body, of.. .She drifted deeper and deeper into places her conscious mind would never go. She lost touch with reality, and was completely unaware that the door between her room and Travis's had slowly swung open.

  Travis crossed the room soundlessly and stood beside the bed, gazing down at Catalina. He sucked in his breath at the exotic effect of her vulnerability and her beauty. His hands shook with the urgent need to touch her, and his loins tightened with desire.

  Her hair was spread across the white pillow, and her lashes lay thick and dark against the soft flush of her cheeks. Her breath came slowly and deeply through half-parted lips ... lush moist lips that he could resist no longer.

  Removing his robe, he eased into the bed beside her, and gently put his arm about her, drawing her close to him. The shock of her warm curves excited him almost more than he could bear.

  Caught in a dream, Catalina reacted to the hard arm about her, melting against the dream of Marc and the reality of Travis.

  In the soft mist of her dream, Catalina felt his hands caress her gently and her lips parted in response to the soft pressure of his. But something was wrong Some small alarm sounded in her mind, and slowly, as the pressure of the body against hers became more heated, more demanding, she struggled up from the depths of wine-drugged sleep.

  Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at the dark form above her. It Was a moment before she realized that she was responding wantonly to Travis Sherman's passionate embrace.

  He knew she was awake now, but he was certain she was as caught up in passion as he was.

  "Travis!" she gasped, when his mouth released hers.

  "Shh, sweet," he whispered, as his hands began to caress her. "Relax, Cat. It will be wonderful for us both. Relax... let me love you. Let me teach you
what passion means."

  "No ... Travis ... don't." She struggled to be free, but the weight of his body pressed her against the mattress. Sliding her hands between them, she tried to exert enough force to separate them.

  But Travis had more than twice her weight and he'd tossed one leg across her lower body, so she was quite effectively pinned beneath him.

  "Don't fight me, Cat," he said huskily, as he continued to kiss her cheek and throat. "You'll enjoy it, I promise. You want it as much as I do. I can tell your passion is as hot as mine. You're so sweet... so soft."

  His mouth searched for hers again, but Catalina was rapidly regaining her self-control.

  "Travis! How dare you," she cried. "Get out of here ... get off of me!" Her voice rose.

  Travis was so certain that she was as involved in sensual pleasure as he and would be unable to resist him, he stopped only for a moment. Then his arrogant self-assurance took over, blotting out both his common sense and his sense of self-preservation. He had taken into account only his desire and his strength, not Catalina's angry determination.

  "Cat, there's no need to pretend with me," he assured her confidently. "What is wrong with us enjoying whatever pleasure we can find in each other? No one will know. You are a warm, seductive woman. Let's take our pleasure to the fullest. Don't fight what I know you want as much as I do."

  Catalina's fury was rising. Like a tidal wave, it swept through her, bringing a new strength to her body. She began to battle, closing her fists to strike and kicking out furiously with her legs as she bucked her body beneath his.

  "Let me go! Who gave you the right to come in here, you sneaking rake? Let me go!"

  Travis was beginning to get the idea that Catalina was unwilling, but it made no difference to him. He was wild with desire, and he meant to have her.

  "Little fool, be quiet What will people think if you draw attention to us? The door between our staterooms is open. No one will believe you to be anything other than a temperamental mistress. You're frightened now, Cat, but after I prove to you how wonderful your surrender will be, you will learn to enjoy our coming together."

  What he'd said about the bolted door caught Catalina's attention.

  "How did you? ... I bolted that door!"

  He smiled, still holding her firmly. "There are ways, Cat. I knew once I had convinced you of what we had to share, the bolt would no longer matter."

  "Get out of my bed! Get out of this room, or I shall see you dead for this. You have no right to be here. You are not welcome, no matter what your overblown conceit may tell you." Catalina spoke through clenched teeth. "If you aren't out of here in five minutes I will scream until every soul on this boat is awakened."

  "Cat, be sensible." He laughed. "You will blacken your own name. Besides, I could feel your response so why fight it."

  "You egotistical, arrogant, deceitful ape, let go of me!"

  A few minutes more of struggle proved to Catalina that Travis had absolutely no intention of doing that, and he seemed certain she really wouldn't scream. Her mind began to race, and Travis smiled, believing Catalina had struggled only for modesty's sake and now intended to surrender.

  She could feel his body relax as hers did, and she wanted him to do just that She let her body grow soft and controlled her anger so that he could read only what he chose to in her eyes.

  "Travis, please," she said softly. "Your leg is so heavy."

  He shifted his leg so that it was no longer across her, and a sense of triumph lit his eyes. But only for a moment.

  Catalina knew she would be lost if she lingered too long over deciding what to do. She mentally calculated the distance between her and the door, figuring the few seconds it would take to slide the bolt and get it open. She wasn't sure where she could run, being clothed in nearly nothing, but she could afford to wait no longer. This was the only opportunity she had.

  Travis lay on his side facing her, and she rolled slightly to face him. As his gloating smile revealed his thoughts, she struck swiftly and with every ounce of strength she possessed. Bringing her knee up in a full thrust, she caught him in his well-aroused groin. At the same time she pushed against his chest to roll herself away from him.

  She heard his gurgling muffled cry of sheer anguish, but she had no time to waste. She rolled away and fell to the floor beside the bed, then scrambled to her feet and ran for the door. Behind her there were muffled curses and movement, and she knew despite the pain he was in pursuit.

  Fear brought a soft moan from her as she slammed against the door and fumbled for the bolt.

  To her it seemed to move very slowly, and she could almost feel his gripping hands. Then the bolt was shot, and she tore the door open with a relieved sob. Blindly she dashed into the shadowed passageway, only to collide with a rocklike form that grasped her trembling body.

  She looked up through angry tears, and to her dismay into the shocked green eyes of Marc Copeland.

  ❧

  Marc had been furious over not being able to exorcise Catalina from his mind. With grim determination, he had tossed away the stub of his cigar and had started below, quite prepared to immerse himself in two things—a bottle of whiskey and the charms of Nina Brent. The two would help him blot out the unwelcome thoughts he could not seem to control.

  He walked slowly until he came to the corridor that took him past Catalina's stateroom, battling his thoughts. He refused to think about what she might be doing. He would not allow himself to believe that the door between her stateroom and Travis's had been opened.

  He was just a foot or two from her door when it was suddenly thrown open, and too quickly for him to realize what was happening, he found his arms full of a very nearly naked Catalina.

  She gave a soft choking gasp, and for a heart-stopping moment she clung to him.

  "Damn," he muttered in surprise. He looked at the door, still hanging open, expected to see someone or something in hot pursuit. But there was no sign of anyone.

  Catalina finally achieved some semblance of control over her trembling body and shattered nerves. She looked up into Marc's eyes and saw total shock in them.

  "What the hell's going on?" he asked. But he didn't loosen his hold on her, for he enjoyed the feel of her softness in his arms and the way she clung to him.

  "You! Of all people, you," Catalina groaned.

  He frowned deeply. "I was just passing by. You"—he grinned evilly now—"are the undressed lady who has just thrown herself into my arms. Oh, I'm willing all right." He chuckled. "I'd just like a little notice and better circumstances. Don't you think this passageway is a bit public?"

  She leapt back from him as if she had been burnt. He regretted her leaving his arms, but he certainly enjoyed the picture she presented.

  Her hair fell about her in wild profusion, nearly to her waist. What little she wore revealed more than it concealed, and he was more than just aware of her; his body was responding to every curve and valley of her slim form. The peaks of her breasts were clearly visible through the sheer fabric of her shift, as was the dark valley between her thighs.

  She was breathing harshly, as if, he thought with a stab of aggravating jealousy, she had just been involved in a very passionate and intimate moment.

  Catalina thought of the unbolted door and of what he must be thinking. Giving no more thought to her undressed state, she drew herself erect, her fury magnificent.

  "I want another stateroom, now!"

  "How about mine?" He laughed.

  "Oh, you men are all alike. You are governed by what's between your legs. You have no honor or pride when it comes to your baser appetites."

  "Just a minute." His smile faded. "If I'm not mistaken you attacked me, and besides"—his eyes raked her body—"I don't think you're in any position to be talking about my baser appetites. It looks like you've been appeasing a few appetites of your own."

  "I've very nearly been raped," she almost shouted. "Or is that such a usual happening on your boat that one is suppose
d to overlook it."

  "Raped!" he said, in shock. Then he reached past her and pushed the door open. There was no sign of anyone. "By whom?"

  She gasped and turned to step back into the room, treating a very appreciative Marc to trim legs and buttocks as she did.

  Travis was clever; he had stepped back into his room. Knowing he had to do something to make it appear that he was an innocent participant in this affair, and not caring if he damaged Catalina's reputation, he waited until he heard Marc's voice, then slipped into his robe, opened the door, and leaned against the frame. The smile on his face was very suggestive.

  "Come on, Cat, just because we've had a little lover's spat doesn't mean you have to run for the captain. We can kiss and make up and it will all be over."

  Catalina let out a half-shocked gurgle and then a shriek of surprise and anger.

  "Don't you dare lead him to believe I planned this! You tell the truth!"

  "Now really, Cat." Travis chuckled. "I do believe your unbolted door and your bed are truth enough."

  The tangled sheets on her bed gave mute evidence that someone had been moving about wildly on it.

  Marc's gaze went to her side of the door and took in the fact that it was unbolted. Her eyes followed his.

  "I didn't unbolt that door!"

  "Who did?" Marc asked, disbelieving amusement in his voice. "He couldn't have done it from his side."

  Catalina didn't have the answer, and suddenly she no longer cared. Her distrust and hatred of both men had brought her to the brink of frustrated tears—tears she had no intention of shedding before either of them.

  She knew she would have to be on her guard from this moment on. She almost ran to her chest, withdrew a robe and slipped into it. Then she turned to Marc.

  "I want another stateroom and I want it now—this minute," she demanded coldly.

  "You're sure of that?" Marc retorted, the glitter of something unnameable in the depths of his eyes.

  "Yes ... quite sure. My things can be moved in the morning, but I want another stateroom now."