Kathleen slipped out of her trancelike state. She sighed tremulously and leaned into Reed for support. He held her close, breathing in the clean lemon scent of her hair. As they strolled back to the cabin she allowed herself to enjoy the secure feeling of his arms about her.
“Why do I feel comfort in his arms?” she pondered. “Why do I feel drawn to him as I do to the sea? He’s not to be trusted. He is a liar, a cheat, a thief, and a pirate! Yet I yearn for his embrace, I melt beneath his kisses, and am moved by his lovemaking. I tingle at his touch and delight in the sight, the sound, and the smell of him. He’s the perfect man; at least he would be if he weren’t so despicable. I find the man I can finally give my heart and soul to totally, and he turns out to be my enemy. Dear Lord, it is like being given a glimpse of heaven and having the pearly gates slammed in your face!
“I will have my revenge. I must have it for my peace of mind, my sense of justice. But in order to have my satisfaction I must destroy my heart’s desire, so can I really win either way? No matter. He would never truly love me anyway. But I can still take my joy now while I may, and later I will wreak my vengeance when the time is right. He has what he wants, the Kat-Ann, and soon I will repay him for my loss. But for now I’ll taste of heaven, for I may never find it again.”
They entered the cabin and Kathleen turned to him. She curled her arms about his neck, and standing on tiptoe, offered him her lips. Reed was astonished, but pleasantly so. He kissed her sweetly, savoring the taste of her. Her tongue darted into his mouth, and he drew her closer. Slipping her hands inside his shirt, she ran them lightly across his bare chest and around to his back, clutching his shoulders, drawing him nearer. He untied her sash and slipped the dress from her shoulders. It slid to the floor silently. Her fingers worked to loosen his belt and buttons as he deftly removed her remaining clothing. He released her and stepped out of his breeches and shrugged off his shirt. He gathered her into his arms and led her to the bunk.
Sparkling emerald eyes gazed deeply into fathomless eyes of blue. He took her lips to his in an eager, demanding kiss. His lips traced their way across her face to her ear, sending chills through her. His mouth traveled to the base of her throat, his tongue sending flashes of flame along her body as he moved to her breasts. He nipped at the pink tips and they rose to his touch. Every nerve in her body came alive as he licked a path down her stomach, stopping briefly at her navel, then continuing downward. He urged her legs apart, and she raised her hips to meet his touch. One exquisite thrill after another raced through her as his tongue probed and prodded. She held his head tightly as she tangled her fingers in his dark hair. Her world exploded into a thousand dazzling fragments, and she pleaded, “Oh, Reed, stop. Please! I am dying from the thrill of it!”
He mounted her, entering her swiftly. She met his thrusts ardently, as together they climbed to the heights of heaven. Rapture was theirs as their passion hurled them beyond the stars into endless space. They descended slowly, as if drifting on a silken cloud, and lay entwined, hearts beating as one; needing no words, no explanations. Each needed only the feel of the other’s soft caresses as sleep overtook them.
When Kathleen awoke the next morning, Reed had already gone from the cabin. Ordinarily she never slept late, but periodically through the night she and Reed had resumed their lovemaking until the sky began to lighten, inviting the new day. She smiled happily and hopped from the bed. Her muscles rebelled, twinging.
“It’s obvious I am not used to this type of activity.” She winced. “I walk like I’ve been riding a horse for a solid week. I do hope it is not evident to the crew, for I would hate to spend the entire day in two rooms.”
She dressed, breakfasted, and went on deck. Spotting Reed on the bridge, she smiled tentatively, blushing as she recalled the heights of passion he had revealed to her. He threw her a roguish grin and motioned for her to join him. Drawing her close beside him at the wheel, he kissed her lightly.
“Good morning, kitten. Did you sleep well?”
“Finally,” she quipped, and immediately could have bitten her tongue.
Reed laughed good humoredly.
“Have you had any sleep at all?” she asked.
“I require very little,” he answered lightly.
“I should have known!”
They stood for a while enjoying the quiet of the morning. A seagull flew over and perched on the rail nearby. Kathleen asked, “Are we nearing the Azores?”
“We’ll anchor early this afternoon. The men will be glad for a brief shore leave. It is grating them that I am getting special treatment with you on board.” He grinned again.
“How long will we stay?”
“We’ll sail again tomorrow evening with the tide. We’ll be adding tea to the cargo here, and we need fresh water, fruit, and enough stores for the rest of the voyage.”
“Aren’t we putting in at Bermuda? It’s on our way.”
“For heaven’s sake, Kat!” he said with sudden impatience. “Do you want our entire crew impressed? Bermuda is British controlled.”
“Then we sail straight for Savannah,” she surmised.
“No, I’m setting a course for an island called Grande Terre in Barataria.”
Kathleen twisted away from him, eyeing him suspiciously. “Why not Savannah, Reed?” she inquired testily.
“Because all American ports are closed to foreign trade. The Embargo Act last December allows for only coastal trade between states.”
“Then you had planned on stopping at this island—”
“Grande Terre,” he supplied.
“Whatever,” she waved his words aside. “You had planned this all along.”
“I had considered it. Just long enough to drop off the cargo. Otherwise, we would have had to slip through the blockade at night and run the risk of getting caught and having the cargo confiscated.”
“And just what is this precious cargo you carry? I’ve never asked you.” She surveyed him through narrowed green eyes, hands on her hips.
“Nothing spectacular, Kat. Just some lace and linen, wool, Irish whiskey, hand-painted china, a few fashion plates for the ladies, and some fine cloth for their gowns. With the blockade in effect, American ports are suffocating. Planters cannot get their cotton to English mills, and imported merchandise is extremely hard to come by.”
“So you smuggle and probably quadruple your profits,” she concluded.
“Smuggle is a strong term,” he frowned. “You either run the blockade or find another way to get your goods to market without getting caught. The public is happy, and you can command good prices. Everyone is satisfied except the government that created the turmoil to start with.”
“Where is Grande Terre?”
“It’s off the coast of Louisiana just west of the mouth of the Mississippi River, about sixty miles overland from New Orleans,” he explained. “Grande Terre sits at the entrance of Barataria Bay and is Jean Lafitte’s base of operation.”
Kathleen’s delicate eyebrows raised in surprise. Everyone had heard of Jean Lafitte! “Jean Lafitte! You deal with pirates?” she exclaimed. “So! I had you pegged from the outset!”
“Jean is not a pirate. He is a privateer, an accomplished businessman, and a gentleman,” Reed declared indignantly. “I admire him greatly. We are the best of friends, and I will hear no ill of him from you or anyone else. Do I make myself clear, Kathleen?” His look was cold as an iceflow.
Kathleen stood at attention, eyes flashing, and saluted smartly. “Quite clear. Captain, sir,” she replied in a clipped Irish brogue. Marching briskly away from him, she descended to the quarterdeck, deciding her own company was better than putting up with his.
The two ships dropped anchor at the island of Terceira. They had reached the Azores just after noon. Reed set up work details, instructing the men that the supplies must be brought aboard before anyone entertained thoughts of pleasure on shore.
“We are fortunate to arrive and find no British ships in port. How lon
g our luck will hold only God knows. We must get our stores laid in first, in the event we have to run for it.”
He supervised the loading, and at last, the work finished, he let most of the crew go ashore. He assured the others that they would be relieved by midnight, and set up lookouts to sound the alarm if enemy ships were sighted.
Once ashore, Reed veered off onto a footpath leading away from the town, pulling a reluctant Kathleen along behind.
“Where are we going?” she pouted.
“You’ll see when we get there,” was all he would tell her.
Soon the trees began to thin out, and they entered a small, sheltered clearing. A clear stream flowed over the high rocks in a majestic waterfall and formed a steaming pool beneath. Birds flew in and out among the trees and rocks, and a myriad of butterflies dotted the air with color.
“Oh, Reed! It’s magnificent!” Kathleen clapped her hands in glee. “It’s a miniature Garden of Eden!”
“Without the forbidden fruit,” he added. “Do you like it?”
“Oh, I do! I do indeed! I’ve never seen such a beautiful sight.”
Reed stooped and untied the bundle he had carried under his arm. Handing her a bar of soap, he started undressing. Kathleen gave him an incredulous look.
“Can you swim, Kat?” he asked as he pulled her around and began unbuttoning her dress.
“Yes, I can swim, and what do you think you are doing?” She swatted his hand away.
“You can’t swim with your clothes on, and frankly you could use a bath,” he teased, slapping her playfully on her now bare posterior. He bent quickly, picked her up, and threw her shrieking into the pool. He dived in and surfaced next to her.
“Reed, this is so warm! It’s like bath water,” she marveled.
“This is a hot spring. There are many of them on these islands. They are caused by the volcanoes,” he explained. “Now I suppose you’ve lost the soap,” he added flatly.
“You want soap? I’ll give you the soap,” she said mirthfully. She reached out and swiftly dunked him, rubbing the soap in his hair. As he surfaced, she tossed him the bar and nimbly eluded his grasp, swimming a safe distance from him.
After Reed had scrubbed himself thoroughly he advanced on Kathleen, a resolute expression on his face. Excellent swimmer though she was, Kat could not escape him in the small pool. Reed caught her. Instead of giving her the soap, he began lathering her body himself. His hands slid smoothly along her limbs, creating exotic sensations.
She quivered under his intimate stroking and clung to him, murmuring his name in low, honeyed tones. “Reed. Oh, my sweet, my darling Reed.”
She brushed back his hair from his forehead and met his searching blue eyes, deepened to a sapphire by his passions. Her own had darkened to a forest green, soft with love. He led her to shore, where they flung themselves on lush green grass. There they made wild, frenzied love to one another until both lay languidly basking in the sun.
“You’ll get a sunburn, Kat,” he commented huskily some time later.
“I won’t tell if you won’t. Besides, you'll have one to match,” she giggled. She kissed him lightly on the neck and waded into the clear water. After a few dives, she located the soap and washed her hip-length hair. It spread about her in the water, forming a fiery fan. Like a lovely mermaid, Kathleen romped in the water until she tired, and returned to sit next to Reed. The sun and warm breeze soon dried her hair. While she dressed, Reed took a final swim. She sat on a large, flat rock, watching him; admiring his sleek, powerful body.
“Ready to go?” she questioned as he dried off.
“Not quite yet.” He fished out of his bundle a hair brush. Seated behind her, he gently brushed the tangles from her long tresses. The ends curled around his fingers in a feathery caress, and he buried his face in the coppery mass, nuzzling her neck.
“You must wear your hair loose like this for me more often, Kat. It is very sensuous.”
“Only for you, Reed, ever,” she promised in a whisper as his lips claimed hers once again.
Early the next morning most of the men had already staggered aboard and were sleeping off the effects of too much rum. A few stragglers still arrived from time to time, climbing laboriously up the ladder and weaving their way to their bunks. Gallons of steaming hot coffee waited to be served in the galley.
Kathleen awoke and stretched lazily.
“Good morning, kitten.” Reed looked up from his desk where he was reviewing his charts. Kathleen gave him a slow smile. He poured her a cup of coffee and brought it to her. Sitting on the edge of the bunk, he ran his fingers through her shining, luxurious hair.
“You are beautiful in the morning with those slanting green eyes and your hair streaming down. Would you like a last visit to our pond today?”
Before she could answer, there came a furious pounding on their cabin door. Bobby called excitedly, “Captain Taylor! It’s the British!”
Reed flung open the door. “Have they spotted us? Does Venley know?”
“I don’t know, sir. Dan just said to hurry!” Bobby exclaimed.
“Stay below, Kat.” With that Reed was racing to the bridge.
Kathleen heard the commotion on deck as men ran for their posts. Reed’s voice carried to her as he issued orders. She peered out the porthole, deciding the tide was still with them. Reed shouted orders to weigh anchor and give him full sails. He would need all the canvas possible to outrun the British warship.
Kathleen dressed hurriedly, praying fervently that they could avoid capture. Unable to stand the suspense, she scurried down the passageway. At the entrance onto the quarterdeck, she stopped and glanced upward. The Kat-Ann was flying the British flag, trying to outwit the enemy. Stepping out onto the deck, she noted that Venley was doing likewise. Hopefully they would sail right by and not be stopped. Just in case the ruse didn’t work, the men were readying the guns.
“Thank God Papa believed in being prepared,” Kathleen thought. The Kat-Ann carried twenty guns—two twelve-pounders, eight eighteen-pounders, and an equal number of twenty-four pounders, plus two thirty-two pounders. She carried a crew of fifty men. The warship, Kathleen knew, would carry twice the men and guns, but the Kat-Ann was sleeker, faster, and easier to maneuver; responding instantly in her captain’s hands. Her size, speed, and craftsmanship could make the difference, depending on the captain’s experience and judgement.
Dan spotted her and she waved him over to her. “Captain,” he said, “what’s it to be?”
“Dan, you must tell our men to obey Captain Taylor’s every command, and in case we cannot avoid a confrontation, to fight like madmen. I have no desire to spend the rest of my days in Newgate.”
“Aye, Cap’n.” Giving her a parting glance, he added, “Better arm yerself if ye’re staying on deck.”
“Reed has ordered me to stay in the cabin, so I’d best get back. Tell the lads not to worry that they don’t see me, and to give the British one for good old Ireland,” she grinned.
Kathleen hurried back to her cabin and dug through her trunk until she found her rapier. She drew it from the scabbard to inspect it. It was razor-sharp, of the finest blue-gray Toledo steel. The weight of it felt familiar, the balance perfection. She sliced the air experimentally, wondering how out of practice she was. It had been over a month since she had last practiced with her father. She limbered up a bit; lunging, parrying with her invisible opponent. Satisfied, she sat in a chair facing the door, rapier in hand. She waited tensely, straining her ears to hear what was happening on deck.
The wind and tides were in their favor. All sails were trimmed and billowed out in the morning air. The Kat-Ann skimmed along the top of the water, the Seafire at her starboard. The brig was larger, older than the Kat-Ann, but well made, fast, and quick to respond.
As they neared the sloop-of-war, Reed signaled to Venley, and the two ships veered apart. The Seafire approached the British sloop from a forty-five degree angle, passing her stern without incident. The Kat-
Ann tacked on the same angle to the sloop’s port side, heading away from it; presenting only a limited portion of her stern as a target. By the time the British captain grew wise to their deceptive tactics, it was too late. The sloop fired at the two receding ships, but the shots fell short. The sloop swung about, preparing to give chase. The race was shortlived as the two faster ships soon outdistanced the wide, lumbering sloop, and her captain turned back to the islands.
Kathleen heard the roar of the sloop’s cannon and the ensuing splash, and knew the shot had fallen short. She leaped to the porthole, estimated the distance between the ships, calculated the Kat-Ann’s speed, and relaxed. The crew was cheering wildly. She smiled. Reed had really outfoxed them this time!
Laughing aloud, she was sheathing her rapier when Reed entered the cabin. He glanced from her face to the sword and back again. “What did you intend to do with that?” he gestured.
“Defend myself, naturally, if need be,” she replied calmly. “I certainly wasn’t peeling carrots for supper!”
Reed’s laughter filled the cabin. He stood shaking his head at her unexpected wit. He’d thought to find her in tears and all atremble. “Someday when we have time, I’ll show you how to use your father’s sword if you wish. Otherwise you might seriously injure yourself,” he offered.
Kathleen gave him a strange look, then shrugged her shoulders. “We may try that someday,” she said quietly, smiling to herself.
“Did you father build the Kat-Ann?” Reed asked, pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee.
Fire and Ice Page 6
