Catalina's Caress

by Sylvie F. Sommerfield

❧

  China was seated at the breakfast table in her cabin. Shawna was with her. Both had preferred to eat away from the main dining room.

  As usual China remained silent, merely answering Shawna's questions and listening to her rambling conversation with half an ear while she sorted out the situation that was unfolding on the Belle.

  She had tried her best to tell Catalina something that she hardly understood herself. She had only known that her love for Marc had urged her to find a way to make him see that this vendetta of his was wrong, and that it could only hurt him.

  What she had seen in Marc's eyes when he had looked at Catalina had told her the truth. Catalina had gotten past his urge for vengeance and had touched him deeply. China only wondered if Catalina would be wise enough, and woman enough, to see beyond Marc's facade to the man beneath. She was determined that for the balance of the trip she was going to do her best to be a friend to both Catalina and Marc, and to throw them together at every opportunity.

  She had no way of knowing about the bargain that was at that very moment being made....

  The rap on the door took both Shawna and China by surprise. They were even more surprised when they heard Nina's irate voice from the hallway.

  "Shawna! Open this damned door. I have to talk to you!"

  China laughed softly and motioned toward the door. "Do go and open it, Shawna, before her shrieking wakens the entire boat. She can be such an obnoxious creature. I cannot believe that Marc still finds pleasure in her company."

  "I'll let her in," Shawna said delicately. "But would you mind if I go on deck while you talk? I find her rather . . ."

  "Obnoxious." China laughed. "No, I don't mind. I'd join you if I could."

  "Shawna! I know you must be awake."

  "Well, if we hadn't been, we would be by now," China said. "Go on, Shawna. Let her in."

  Shawna opened the door, and found herself facing a half-dressed and angry Nina.

  "Well, it's about time," Nina said as she pushed her way past Shawna. A calm China sipped her tea and looked up at Nina with a slight smile.

  "Good morning," she said. "Would you like to join me? There is still plenty... since Shawna was not given the opportunity to finish her breakfast"

  Shawna giggled softly, but when Nina turned blazing eyes on her, she quickly stepped out into the hall and pulled the door shut

  Nina turned back to China, who controlled her smile with some effort.

  "Where is Marc?" she demanded.

  "I am not his keeper," China said softly.

  "You know every move he makes! And I'll just bet you can tell me whose bed he's^been warming for the past few nights."

  "You," China calmly declared, "are not his keeper either. In fact Nina, I would try to be a little more discreet if I were you. Should you incur his anger this morning, you might find yourself ejected from the boat by the time we reach Natchez tomorrow."

  "You really do know where he is and who he's with, don't you?"

  "If I did, you would most certainly be the last person I would telL Sit down and let me give you some very sound advice."

  "I don't want to talk to you," Nina said through gritted teeth. "I want to know whose bed I'll find Marc in .. . Charlene's ... Paulette's? I'll scratch out their eyes, the little sluts."

  "Sit down Nina!" China's voice was sharp now. "And for heaven's sake be quiet!"

  Nina sat down and for a moment her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, as if she had just realized something. "What are you doing here in Shawna's room?"

  "I spent the night with her."

  "Was she sick?'

  "Of course not."

  "Then why—"

  "It's none of your business. What happens on this boat is Marc's business and Marc's business alone. Again, I would advise you to keep silent or you will find yourself back on the streets—without Marc or me to help you."

  "China,'' Nina said in a pleading voice as she bent forward, "I ... I just want to see him. He hasn't... I mean, I haven't seen him for almost two days."

  "Marc brought you aboard this boat for a purpose. You were to find it out when we reach Memphis. But," China declared coldly as she rose to stand above Nina, "one more action like this and I shall see that you are dragged to the filthiest brothel in Natchez. Believe me, Nina"—China's voice was like the edge of a glittering blade—"I know many people who would be more than pleased to take you and keep you very silent."

  There was no doubt in Nina's mind that China meant what she said, or that she had the power to carry out her threat.

  China walked out of the room and closed the door with a soft click. But a smile formed on her lips as she walked down the passageway.

  Nina sat for some time, but China's threat was not enough to suppress her desire to see Marc again. Her mind twisted and turned until she came up with the obvious answer: the room belonging to China had been given to someone else, and that someone had to mean a great deal to Marc. Anyone of little consequence would not have been able to displace China, nor would China have willingly moved for anyone she had not thought very important to Marc.

  Raised in the streets of New Orleans Nina was not one to let someone take something she wanted from her. She rose slowly and, leaving the cabin, went to China's door. It was not locked, and it swung open easily under the touch of her hand.

  But the stateroom was empty. This surprised her so that she remained immobile for some moments. That was opportune for her, for it permitted her to hear the voices in Marc's cabin.

  She walked to the door and pressed her ear to it. There was no doubt the masculine voice was Marc's, but the woman's voice, soft and cultured, was not a voice that belonged to anyone she knew.

  She turned the handle and swung the door open, and a dismayed squeak was all she could utter when she saw the woman in Marc's arms.

  When Marc and Catalina swung about, Nina could see Catalina's half-dressed state.

  "Nina," Marc demanded, "What the hell are you doing here?"

  Catalina looked from Marc to Nina, realizing immediately the situation she was facing. But she had no intention of letting anyone stand between her and what she wanted, not even someone who had shared Marc's time before he'd met her.

  ❧

  Their mouths had blended and Marc had held her close. For a moment he thought of all the plans he had laid and of how easily Catalina had fallen in with them.

  By the time they reached Natchez, there would be nothing left in Catalina's life but him and the Belle, and he would see that she had neither. But now he meant to enjoy all she offered, and he was thoroughly engrossed in doing just that when the door opened and he turned to look into Nina's enraged eyes.

  Asking what she was doing there was an open invitation to Nina. She leaned against the frame of the door and her teeth gleamed in a feral smile.

  "So this is the little bitch you've left my bed for," she snarled. "Really, Marc, your taste is disastrous ... or were you drinking?"

  Marc could feel Catalina's body grow stiff in his arms. China had warned him about Nina's possessive bent, but he had refused to listen. He promised himself to heed China's advice in the future. But now he had a jealous woman on his hands ... and Catalina in his arms. He couldn't let the situation build any further or Catalina would be off the boat by the time he reached Natchez and all his well-laid plans would be for nothing.

  He had no idea that leaving the boat didn't fit in with Catalina's own plans. She had found something in Marc's arms she had never hoped to find, and she wasn't about to give up without a battle.

  Before Marc could put words to his growing anger, Catalina spoke in a voice dripping honey.

  "I must ask you, Marc," she said softly, "to have all the locks on the Belle checked. They have caused no end of difficulty since I boarded. One never knows just"—she shrugged—"who might take a notion to wander into one's cabin uninvited."

  Nina started toward Catalina, a murderous glow in her eyes, but before she could reach her, Marc put himself
between the two.

  He wanted to laugh for he'd just discovered his Cat had sharp claws. His Cat? ... He would have to stop thinking like that.

  He had no idea why Catalina had suddenly decided to do battle for him, but it most certainly wasn't because she was his.

  "I asked you what you were doing here, Nina. I expect an answer."

  Nina looked at Marc, feigning innocent surprise. UI thought I was always welcome here ... anytime."

  "You'd better go back to your cabin, and get dressed," Marc replied, ignoring her words. "While you're at it, you might just pack your things. You'll be leaving the boat in Natchez."

  "Leaving," Nina sputtered. "You can't just throw me off this boat. You're the-one who sent for me in the first place. Why don't you throw that little tramp off and then we can pick up where we left off."

  "I don't think so, Nina." Marc's voice was cold and his anger was apparent from the wicked flames that danced in his green eyes.

  "You can't do this to me! I gave up a lot to come when you called. You owe me—" Nina saw her mistake at once. She had pushed Marc one step too far.

  "You're right. I owe you. You'll be well paid for your time before you leave the Belle. And as for what you gave up for me, I don't think the brothel China rescued you from was so alluring. But I'll be more than pleased to pay your way back to it."

  Nina swung her hand, but it was caught in a viselike grip before it found its destination.

  "I suggest you leave now before I get any angrier. I've never struck a woman before but you're tempting me. You came here for profit, and profit is what you leave with. There have never been any promises between us. Now go back to your cabin and start to pack. I expect you off the boat in Natchez. China will see that you get what you bargained for."

  "China!" Nina's rage-filled eyes fell on Catalina who had never felt such hatred before. It was like a physical blow. "And you . .. you'll pay for this. Do you think you'll keep him? He and his precious China will rid themselves of you as soon as they're finished with you."

  Catalina felt a moment of sympathy for Nina. The realization that Marc could do just that made her very aware of the harsh reality of her gamble.

  "Get going, Nina." Marc's voice lowered in a veiled threat.

  Nina's eyes and Catalina's had met and held. "You'll pay for this—you'll pay," Nina half whispered. Then she left the cabin, leaving the door open.

  There was a heavy silence as Marc walked over to close it. Then he turned to look at Catalina, but he couldn't tell what she was thinking. She watched him silently for a minute, but her mind was spinning.

  It would be safer to run, to find a way to get off the boat at Natchez. Maybe she could locate Travis and travel back home with him by coach. At least she knew exactly what Travis wanted from her. She wasn't too sure about Marc.

  "I'm sorry about that, Cat," Marc said quietly, and Catalina suddenly knew she didn't want to leave him. She had seen him sever his ties to his last mistress, and she knew she was in the most tenuous of positions . . . yet she didn't want to go.

  He was watching her through narrowed eyes, expecting an explosion that didn't come. What did happen was what he had least expected. Catalina moved toward him, and in a moment her arms were about his neck and her body was pressed close to his.

  Everything was too smooth . . . too easy. His self-protective instincts became alert.

  "We have a bargain you and I," she said in a soft throaty voice. "We don't need to make any decisions about the future until we reach Memphis."

  "A bargain," he agreed, "but why do I get the feeling I've leapt from the pan to the fire?"

  "Why, Marc. Are you the one who's afraid of the fire now?" Her voice was like silk, but her challenge was all steel.

  She was rewarded by a look that combined pleasure and puzzlement.

  Chapter 20

  Seth completed his story without being interrupted by Charlotte or Charles.

  "... So, I've brought Jake—Jacqueline—here so you and Cat can help show her there's a much better world. By the way"—Seth smiled—"where is Cat, out at some local affair?"

  Charles and Charlotte exchanged quick glances that were not lost on Seth. His smile faded.

  "Where is she?"

  "She's not here," Charles began.

  "You mean she's not in the house."

  "No," Charlotte said quietly. "She is not even in New Orleans."

  "Aunt Charlotte, something's wrong. Suppose you tell me what's been going on since I've been gone."

  "Much has happened and a great deal of it is not good," Charlotte replied. "But don't you think this child is tired and should be in bed?"

  Seth turned to look at Jake, realizing that in his worry about Cat he had almost forgotten her.

  Jake had tried to listen quietly to the conversation, but a full stomach and exhaustion had made her numb and heavy eyed.

  "Jake, I'm sorry. I know you must be tired. Aunt Charlotte can take you up to your room so you can get some steep."

  "My... my room? All to myself?" Jake asked in disbelief. She had never had a private domain and she found this hard to believe.

  "Your room—all to yourself," Seth replied with a gentleness that made Charlotte's eyes narrow as a soft smile touched her lips.

  Charlotte rose and extended a hand to Jake. She was touched by the quickness with which a small trembling hand was put in hers and by the vulnerability she saw in Jake's eyes.

  "Come, child," she said gently.

  This first breath of such gentleness, this first touch of feminine kindness was almost too much for Jake, who had lived her entire life in the company of rough and careless men.

  Charles and Seth watched the two leave the room; then Charles turned to Seth. "Before Charlotte gets back, why don't you tell me just how you ran across this wild little creature."

  Seth laughed, but he quickly began his story.

  ❧

  When Charlotte stopped before a door and swung it open, Jake gasped in disbelief. She had never seen such a beautiful room in her life.

  She walked slowly into it, tears stinging her eyes. Suddenly, she felt dirty and displaced, and she wasn't too sure she could handle her upsetting emotions.

  But Charlotte, who had been studying her, felt a touch of pity. She kept it from showing, for she knew Jake just might be astute enough to perceive it. She was certain that Jake had enough pride to resent such a reaction.

  "I'll have some water drawn so you can bathe, and I'll have one of my nightgowns brought so you can sleep comfortably.''

  Jake turned to Charlotte, tears that could be restrained no longer welling in her eyes.

  "You are so kind. I... I can clean and cook," she began enthusiastically. "And maybe I can care for your clothes, I'm really a good worker. I'm strong and—"

  "Child, child," Charlotte said, her eyes now growing suspiciously moist, "you are a guest in my house. I want you to enjoy your stay here. We can become friends. I will enjoy having a young woman to talk to."

  "Friends?" Jake questioned, aghast. "I've never ... I mean..."

  "I know," Charlotte replied in a conspiratorial tone. "To tell you the truth, child, I don't recall having many real women friends either. But if you'd like we can share breakfast in the morning and get to know each other better, would you like that?"

  "Oh, yes," Jake breathed out.

  "Good. Now enjoy your bath, have a good sleep, and I'll see you in the morning. I'll send a maid to waken you and show you to the breakfast room. Good night, Jake. Sleep well."

  "Good night... and thank you."

  Charlotte patted Jake's cheek, then left, pulling the door closed behind her.

  Alone, Jake turned in a slow circle in the center of the room, her eyes trying to absorb all of its comfort and beauty at one time. The bed was a large oak fourposter, a white ruffled spread covering what promised to be soft welcoming warmth. The thick carpet was soft beneath her feet, and she could inhale the clean scent of the room. The walls were paper
ed in soft blue with small pink and white flowers, and to Jake's delight there was an ivory white mantel over the hearth upon which a fire briskly glowed.

  Jake felt she could cry out in delight, but a light rap announced a young maid who carried a soft white nightgown over her arm.

  "Good evening, miss. I was to lay out this for you and to tell you your bath is ready." The young servant spoke as she crossed the room to place the nightgown on the bed.

  Jake didn't want to appear foolish so she remained silent.

  The maid turned from the bed and smiled again. "If you will come with me, miss, I'd be delighted to help you."

  Jake followed her from that room to another, which astounded her even more than the first. Never having taken a bath in anything but a wooden tub filled with heated river water, she could not hold back a gasp of pure awe. They actually took baths in this huge white tub! Right inside the house! This was beyond her imagination, and she stored this knowledge so she might impart it to her grandfather at the first opportunity.

  The tub was nearly full of steaming water on which there was a covering of thick white suds. She closed her eyes to again inhale the exquisite scent that emanated from the enticing tub.

  "Shall I help you undress, miss?"

  Ashamed, both of the outer clothes she wore and of her rough cotton undergarments, Jake could only shake her head negatively.

  "Here is a robe, miss, and there are some warm towels. I shall return in an hour."

  The maid left, drawing the door closed, and Jake went to the tub, almost tearing her clothes off as she did.

  She sank into the water, thinking that she had never felt anything so wonderful in her life. The water had begun to chill before Jake rose reluctantly from it. The towels were soft, and she leisurely dried herself before donning the robe.

  She wasn't too sure she should try to find her room herself. Maybe Seth's aunt would not want her to be wandering about in the halls.

  Insecure and more than a little nervous, Jake sat on a small stool and waited for someone to come for her.

  By the time the maid finally came, Jake, who had begun to think she was forgotten, sat huddled on the stool.