Chapter Five
“Lady Catherine, put some clothes on!” Lucian demanded forcefully, rising from the large chair behind an equally large desk that sat before the row of windows in the cabin.
Catherine slowly uncrossed her legs and retreated from her perch on the bed to a chair by the unlit stove near a corner of the room. Her innocent expression and casual tone bespoke confidence though heat prickled her fair skin. “Sir, I have clothes on.”
Lucian’s voice rose in agitation. “You have my linen shirt on and nothing else.”
Her head went up defiantly. “I have my pearls.”
“Excuse me,” he said sarcastically, and executed a hasty bow. “A lady must wear her pearls.”
For a brief second Catherine felt exposed. She had thought he understood the significance of her pearls and that her armor would be breached. But over the past two days she had become aware of the fact that the longer he remained in the cabin with her and the more she elaborated on her intimate exploits, the more sharp and biting were his barbs. Equally surprising was her discovery that if her verbal defense was casual it raised his ire even more and caused him to storm from the room not to return for hours or until morning.
She settled herself comfortably in the chair, folding her legs beneath her and tucking his shirt that gracefully fell to her knees over her slim limbs. “How charming. You actually understand the dictates of polite society.”
Lucian stood and walked around to the front of his desk. He braced his backside against it and folded his arms across his broad chest. “Polite society be hanged. You, madam, shall behave as I dictate.”
Catherine presented a calm exterior, not even raising a brow in response, though her skin crawled with gooseflesh. She still feared his intimidating manner and his size. Lord, his size alone could bend a person to his will. Add to that his arrogant swagger of self-confidence, his ability to command those around him with a single word and his eyes that penetrated so deeply that she thought he could capture a person’s most profound secrets with a mere look. All of this only served to heighten her own inadequacies and make her fear him all the more and doubt, doubt so very much, her ability to find, and hold on to, the courage and wisdom to carry out this charade.
Catherine forced a smile and responded before she could doubt herself. “As I’ve offered before, I’m at your disposal.”
Lucian lunged forward and was upon her in three quick strides. His large hands latched on to the arms of the chair, locking her into her seat. His face hovered a mere inch from hers. She could smell the spicy scent of his clean-shaven face, see the spark of anger in his blue eyes, and catch the tensing of his jaw muscles.
She shivered.
His voice questioned without emotion. “Cold?”
The truth ran from her lips. “No, you frightened me.”
He looked at her strangely, his eyes searching for an answer that appeared to puzzle him. “I didn’t think any man frightened you.”
She had allowed her guard to slip. She had stepped out of her character and had responded foolishly and without thought.
He waited patiently for his answer. His eyes had lost their anger, but not their intensity. His jaw muscles had relaxed and his lips parted slightly, almost as though they waited to capture…
A kiss. The thought struck her suddenly. An experienced woman would have recognized the fact immediately. A harlot would have stolen one from him by now. But she was neither and her response was her own.
Her hand grabbed hold of the pearls and her other hand moved upward to his face. Her fingers glided in feathery softness over his smooth, warm cheek.
He tensed, every muscle tightening like a taut rope secured to the mast.
Her hand stilled, but only for an instant. She moved with precise slowness to his lips, running her fingers over his exquisitely shaped mouth. Her fingers tingled strangely, the sensation rushing up her arm.
He shot her a glaring look.
Her fingers remained on his lips as she gathered all the courage she possessed to calmly announce, “I won’t hurt you, Captain Lucifer.”
He moved away from her in a flash. His eyes cast venomous look and his tone was just as lethal. “But I have yet to determine if I shall hurt you, Catherine.”
Think, Catherine, think. The little voice in her head warned. You mustn’t show fear. You must remain strong and conquer this giant with your wit. What wit? Her own senses argued.
Feeling smug that his retort had rendered her speechless, he said, “No response, Catherine?”
Catherine placed her finger to her mouth and chewed softly on it in contemplation. Her thoughts raced to recall anything that would help her to respond wisely or in this case unwisely, to this situation. Unintentionally a slow sensuous smile spread across her face. “I was thinking, Captain. Pain sometimes can bring pleasure.”
Lucian released a low frustrated growl.
Catherine decided to take her response one step further, hoping it would send him out of the cabin for the entire night as had been the case since she had boarded his ship.
She stretched her arms out to him and in an aching whisper said, “Let me pleasure you with pain, Captain.”
Lucian’s angry roar bellowed through the entire ship before he stalked out of the cabin, slamming the door behind him, causing not only Catherine to tremble but the room as well.
Catherine slumped in the chair. Her hands shook so badly she had to release the pearls she held. How much longer could she continue to play this game? Her nerves were near to shattering. Each time she offered herself to him, she feared his response. What if he accepted? Then what?
She shook her worries away. She couldn’t waste time pondering the consequences of her actions now. She had to take the time to search the cabin for the papers that would prove her father’s innocence. The faster she located the papers, the faster she could attempt an escape.
Catherine had methodically searched a section of the cabin each time she was alone. She had begun with the captain’s desk, but had found it locked. Not wanting to waste precious time she had moved to the opposite side of the cabin and had searched the trunks and various nooks that could possibly conceal papers.
It was during her first exploration that she had decided to wear one of the captain’s shirts. Her decision was actually a pragmatic one. It had nothing to do with her charade. The hem on her dress was torn and she didn’t possess the needle and thread to repair it, and she didn’t want the captain even remotely aware of the fact that she had purposely removed her pearls from her dress to wear. So she had grabbed his shirt from the chair and slipped into it. She had worn it ever since. She had even slept in it.
It had taken time to grow accustomed to his smell on her. The mixture of fresh sea air, gunpowder, and male flesh was potent—as potent as the man who had worn it.
She chased her strange thoughts away and hurried over to the desk. In the captain’s haste he may have forgotten to lock it and she would have a chance to search it and hopefully find the papers.
Charts, maps, and other sailing papers occupied the drawer. She shut it in disappointment and pulled open the one beneath. Her eyes scanned the writing quickly and she shook her head. She was reading too fast and not comprehending the words.
She leaned back on her haunches and slowly read over the document. She frowned, shook her head, and read the paper again.
On the last paper she studied the official seal in the lower right corner and the royal signature. If she understood this document correctly Captain Lucifer was a privateer for England. If that was the case then he would have had knowledge of her father’ merchant ship routes, to make certain he didn’t attack English ships, and he would have known full well those ships carried only cargo for the Crown and not supplies for the enemy.
She shook her head again. This didn’t make sense, unless—
The chilling realization that rushed over Catherine sent shivers through her. Captain Lucifer himself had fabricated the eviden
ce of her father’s guilt. And he alone held the key to freeing him. Catherine shut her eyes against the tears that threatened to spill. Why? Why did the captain hate her father with so much vengeance that he would go to such lengths to see him destroyed?
A scurry of feet outside the cabin door sent her into action. She returned the papers to where they belonged and rushed over to the bed. Her bottom hit the middle of the wide bed as the door opened and Santos stumbled in, attempting to balance the tray he held in his hands.
Catherine smiled. She liked the short, robust man. He spoke kindly to her and brought her water to wash with and food to fill her belly as he declared each time he brought her a meal.
“I brought you extra wine and cheese tonight to fill your belly,” he said setting the tray on the bed. “You don’t eat enough.”
“I don’t always have an appetite.”
Santos handed her a large chunk of cheese. “Tonight you eat.”
Catherine took the offered cheese and nibbled at it, though her churning stomach protested. Jokingly she asked, “Does everyone on this ship give orders?”
Santos shook his head while he filled her tankard with wine. “Only Captain Lucifer.”
She swallowed, with difficulty, the small piece of cheese in her mouth. “Then it is his order that I eat?”
“He sees your tray returned to the galley with barely a nibble taken from it. He tells me to make certain you eat tonight or else.”
“Or else what?” Catherine attempted to keep the tremor from her voice.
Santos caught her nervousness but showed no signs of his detection. “There’s no telling what he would do.”
Unpredictable. That was one frightening aspect of the captain’s manner. She couldn’t judge with accuracy his reaction to any given situation.
Her father’s involvement in politics had afforded her the privilege of meeting all manner and types of men. Her father would caution her to study the men and watch their reactions to various situations. He had explained that within a short time one could predict one’s opponent’s reaction to any given situation.
Captain Lucifer defied this principle, but then so did her father.
Even now she continued to worry that the captain would find a reason to return to the cabin and decide he no longer wished to reject her advances. Then what?
The piece of cheese suddenly felt heavy in her hand. “I find myself hungry tonight, Santos.”
“This is good,” he said, and walked to the door. “I will return for the empty tray later.”
She smiled, nodded and wondered how she would dispose of the food since her stomach revolted at the mere thought of swallowing it.
o0o
Lucian gripped the mighty ship’s wheel firmly. He lifted his face to the warm night breeze and drank deeply of the rich salty air. He felt in command when he was at the wheel and free. Free to travel what course he chose, free of restraints, and almost free of the past.
The ship dipped and rose gracefully riding the endless sea with dignity. He braced his feet more firmly on the deck and held his head high. It had taken time and patience to regain his dignity, having been treated far worse than the lowliest animal for what seemed like countless years. And through all that time he had recalled over and over the name of the man who had condemned him to suffer the tortures of hell. Abelard. Abelard. Abelard.
Catherine. Her name rushed to his lips and in a soft whisper he released it, the night breeze catching it from his tongue and carrying it away.
She presented an obstacle to his plan, a serious obstacle. He had intended to seduce, now he was the one being seduced, and with great skill. When she had caressed his cheek and had so sumptuously informed him that she wouldn’t hurt him, he had thought his control would snap and that he would rip his shirt and those damn pearls off her and give her exactly what she had ached for from the first day in his cabin. But he had managed to control the fiery passion that had raced through his veins.
He took a deep, fortifying breath of sea air, lifting his face to the heavens and locking his eyes on the star-studded night sky.
“An angel,” he whispered and as though the heavens agreed, a spray of sea mist sprinkled his face.
He shook his head as if in disagreement, recalling how she had offered to pleasure him with pain. The sensuous suggestion alone was enough to rush his manhood to stiff erection and his anger to boiling. She may look like an angel, but she possessed a harlot’s soul.
He would deal with that, he had no choice, if he was to accomplish what he had set out to do — ruin the Marquis of Devonshire.
“She obeys you well.”
Lucian showed no surprise at Santos’s approach. He was attuned to every movement on the ship and was surprised by none, except from the woman below in his cabin. Her every movement surprised him. “I’m her master and she knows it.”
“Then perhaps you should master the one below,” Santos suggested, placing his hand on the wheel to transfer command.
Lucian gave it up freely. “You know my thoughts well.”
Santos shrugged while holding the huge wheel steady. “I assumed in time you would realize what must be done and do it. I grow tired of the sea and I miss Zeena. Finish this business and quickly so we many return home.”
“It may be necessary to take her to the island.”
Santos shrugged again. “So take her and be done with it. Use whatever is necessary. Command her as you command this ship and see that once and for all you quench that vengeance that eats at you.”
Lucian stepped in front of the wheel to look his friend straight in the eye. “Are you suggesting that Catherine Abelard commands me?”
Santos met his friend’s stare straight on. “I don’t suggest I tell you what I see with my own eyes and I see that you don’t see the truth.”
His voice was low and demanding. “Then tell me truth as you see it, Santos.”
The short man shook his head. “I can tell you nothing. You must discover it for yourself or it will hold no meaning for you.”
“You talk in riddles like Zeena.”
Santos laughed. “She taught me the lessons well. Now it is your turn to learn.”
“What lessons?” Lucian asked irritably.
“About life, my friend.”
“I learned my lessons the hard way,” Lucian said, “or have you forgotten?”
“No, I haven’t forgotten, but I have learned from them and let them go. You have held steadfast and still seek revenge. Be careful what you seek doesn’t come back to seek you.”
“Again riddles,” Lucian said in disgust.
“There are no riddles when you see the truth. Do what you must, Lucian, but keep your eyes open wide as you go.”
“My eyes are wide and my path is clear. I’ll have my revenge.” He turned and walked away, the night swallowing him up.
o0o
Catherine had just settled herself in bed for the night, content that once again the captain would spend the evening elsewhere and leave her alone.
The opening of the cabin door startled her and without thinking she sat up in bed, bracing her hands behind her.
Captain Lucifer stepped quickly into the room. He captured her shocked expression with his confident one. He gave the door a hard shove behind him.
The click of the latch sent a shiver through her, but she moved not a muscle. She just continued to watch him.
He walked to the end of the bed and with deft hands he stripped himself of his clothes in only minutes, resigning them to a heap on the floor.
Catherine kept her eyes on his face, not daring to glance lower though her warning voice told her she should. She just couldn’t. Lord, she couldn’t bring herself to view his private parts. The scope of his broad chest and the fullness of his muscled arms were enough for her to speculate on how large the rest of him actually was.
His slow steps brought him to the side of the bed.
Catherine craned her neck back to keep his face and chest al
one in her view.
His red hair hung over his shoulders, falling onto his bare chest. His damp flesh smelled of salty sea air and he stood with his hands at his sides in relaxed arrogance.
“Tonight, Catherine, we sleep together.”
Chapter Six
Catherine froze, keeping her steadfast gaze on the captain’s eyes. Aware that her response must not be hesitant, her thoughts raced and her inner voice cautioned her actions.
She smiled, buying herself precious time and realized that she should not shy away from inspecting his body. He probably assumed she wanted to view all of him, and all things considered, it would give her extra time to think through her dilemma.
She sat straight up, her fingers going to the pearls hanging down around her neck and coiling part of the long strand around one finger. With a soft blink she drew her gaze away from his.
She had never observed a naked man before and suddenly her mind focused on a sobering thought and her smile blossomed. This was her chance to learn about the male anatomy. She could study him at leisure in hope of procuring more knowledge. If she kept that thought in mind and viewed his nakedness as a learning experience, perhaps, just perhaps, she would succeed in keeping him from her bed.
The captain remained silent and still. He didn’t even blink an eye. He undoubtedly had expected this reaction from her and stood prepared.
Courage in hand, her gaze wandered to his chest. She was familiar with the breadth of his taut, hard muscles and his sun-drenched skin. His midriff was tight and flat not a bit of fat marred his waistline unlike so many men. More slowly, her gaze descended lower. She held it steady for a moment, her well-bred nature warning her that her actions were not at all proper. But then what choice did she really have? To admit her innocence would surely mean the end of her innocence. With a soft blink and a forceful breath of courage, she allowed herself to look. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped opened. He was large all over.
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