Fire and Ice

by Hart, Catherine

  When the rain started, it came in blinding sheets that nearly took her breath away. By feel alone, Kathleen kept the heading she had set before dusk. She relied completely on her inborn sense of the sea’s movements, praying it would hold her in good stead. She tacked in the wind, riding the huge troughs of the sea. The planking creaked and groaned in agony as the frigate reached fearful heights and then plunged straight to the heart of the trough, only to rise miraculously to the crest of the next wave. The ship and all aboard were at the mercy of the elements.

  Kathleen was buffeted about as she fought the wheel. If not for the lines about her waist, she would have been tossed into the boiling sea. The rain beat down on her face with such force that it felt like a thousand needles plunging into her skin. Her hair whipped back and forth in great wet strands, nearly blinding her at times, but there was not much to see anyway. She dared not let loose of the wheel to tie it back, as it took all the strength in her arms to control the wheel as it was.

  Her arms were tiring, her back ached terribly, her face stung, and she was soaked to the skin and beyond, but still she was enjoying herself. It was more exhilarating than anything she had ever experienced. She stood with her feet braced beneath her and let her soul fly free. She felt released, free and clean and pure. She stood with her head bowed beneath the rain and felt herself as one with the wind and rain and sea. A feeling that could only be described as holy settled within her breast and started to grow. She was reborn, a creature of the sea, Venus rising from the waves. She was filled with wonder and awe. A power filled her being, and she gloried in it. She felt invincible; defeat was a thought that never occurred to her.

  This was her hour of glory, and she reveled in it. She was a goddess reborn, heeding only the call of the sea. She felt its might, and it became her own. Fear had no place in her. She was in her element and at peace within herself. Her soul had found its haven in the midst of the turbulent storm. She was home!

  Reed stood on the deck below her, clinging to the mast. The rest of the crew had long ago gone below deck. He watched Emerald and marveled at her strength and endurance. Who would guess that someone so slight could withstand the force of such a storm for so long? From his chosen post he saw her head bow beneath the wind and rain. From this position he caught a glimpse of her rain-washed face and was amazed to see her smiling. Her expression was one of complete confidence, and something more. With a start he realized it was exhilaration and unbound joy and unleashed power all wrapped in one. Even all wet, with her hair straggling in her face, she was magnificent to behold. She resembled some high priestess with all the powers of the unknown at her command, competent and completely in charge. He felt drawn to her as the tides were drawn by the moon.

  Kathleen felt Reed’s arms close about her waist. “I think it’s abating!” he yelled into her ear. “The eye of the storm should be coming soon!”

  She nodded her agreement.

  He reached around her and untied the line, winding it about both of them, lashing the two of them together to the wheel. “Lean into me!” he screamed over the storm. He felt her resistance. “Don’t be stubborn! Let me help you!”

  She relaxed against him. She could feel the steamy heat of him coming through his wet clothes and hers. Instantly she was aware of his hard muscular contours pushing against her from shoulder to knee. His warm breath on her neck raised gooseflesh along her spine.

  With one hand he gathered her streaming hair from her face. Then he placed his own strong hands upon the wheel, and with his aid she found it easier to handle by far.

  For perhaps half an hour they silently battled the elements together. Then it was as if some great hand from above had suddenly shut off the storm. All at once the rain stopped and the sea became as calm and smooth as glass. The wind stopped and everything was so unearthly still that Kathleen could hear Reed’s heart beating as clearly as she could her own.

  She sighed audibly in relief. Releasing the wheel, she flexed her numb hands and aching arms. “The eye,” she said softly. With stiff fingers she untied the line binding them to the wheel.

  The hatch to the forecastle slammed open and Finley staggered onto the slippery deck. His face was wan and drawn. He looked up at Kathleen and Reed. They looked wet and bedraggled, but damn if they didn’t look as if they’d enjoyed themselves. How dare they! He gave them a dark scowl.

  “How is it below?” Kathleen called down to him. “How did the men fare? Is anyone hurt?”

  “Other than being half drowned and thoroughly sick, everyone fared well enough,” Finley grouched. “There’ll be one helluva mess to clean up later, though.”

  Kathleen chuckled sympathetically. “Did we take on much water?”

  “Not as much as I feared, but more than enough for my taste.”

  “We are in the eye of the hurricane now. It won’t be long before the backside catches us. Put some men to the pumps and others busy bailing with pails. Get rid of what water you can,” she ordered. “Also, take a few men and inspect the ship. See what damage was done and repair what you can in the time allotted us. Report back to me.”

  She turned to Reed. “I’m going below to towel off. I’ll bring a towel up to you.”

  “Fine. I’ll stay here and man the helm if you wish.”

  She hurried to her cabin. Hastily she lit a lamp and viewed herself in the small mirror. “I look like a drowned rat,” she grumbled. “At least my hair dye isn’t washing out. That is something to be thankful for.” Quickly she stripped off her wet clothes, dreading the thought of putting them back on. There was no sense in exchanging them for dry ones, however, since they would soon be soaked too. As she toweled off her trembling body, she looked down and immediately dropped the towel.

  “How stupid of me!” she exclaimed as she eyed her body. “Anyone would think I wanted to get caught!” She dashed to her trunk, rummaging until she found her hair dye. With the small brush she gently, but thoroughly, applied the dye to the small triangle of tightly curled red-blonde hair between her legs. Then she scrubbed and dried until she was sure it was set.

  As she pulled her wet clothes back on, she cursed herself for a fool. “I’m going to have to be more attentive to small details. This makes the second close call in two days!” She tied her hair back with a leather thong and grabbed a towel for Reed. Blowing out the lamp, she scurried to the bridge.

  Finley had assessed the damage and reported to her. “Nothing too bad, Captain. A couple of bow beams seemed weakened, so we braced them. No tears or splits along her seams. She’s sound as a bell. Anything we missed can’t be that important, and we’ll go over her real good once we hit home port. Most of the water’s been pumped out, too.”

  “Thank you, Finley. You’d better get below and batten down the hatch. It’s starting to get rough again. The reprieve is over.”

  Once more she took her heading and altered course into the wind. When she started to lash herself to the wheel, Reed stepped up behind her. She gave him a level look and handed him the line, and he strapped the two of them again to the wheel.

  As the wind and waves rose, so did Kathleen’s spirits. She leaned comfortably into Reed’s chest as the ship was buffeted about. The rain drenched them, but could not dampen their devil-may-care mood. Her head bowed beneath the onslaught, and his lowered over hers. Moments later she felt his lips nibbling at the nape of her neck. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold rain traveled through her. He pulled her tightly against him, and together they rode out the storm.

  As the storm lessened, he caught at her earlobe with his teeth. “I want you,” he murmured huskily.

  When it was safe to do so, Kathleen turned the helm over to Finley, giving him his heading and instructions. She led Reed to her cabin. Carefully she lit but one lantern in the far corner of the cabin. It left the bunk in shadow.

  She walked back to Reed. He reached up to untie her mask, and she stepped hastily backward. “No! The mask stays!”

  “I want to see
your face,” he insisted.

  “That wasn’t part of the bargain. Satisfy yourself with seeing the rest of me.”

  A devilish grin lit up his features. He reached for her again, this time to undo the lacing on her vest.

  Silently she removed her gloves and unbuttoned his clinging shirt. She looked up at him from beneath her thick lashes, laughter dancing in her brilliant green eyes.

  He released the buckle of her belt and her weapons fell to the floor with a clatter. She smiled seductively at him as she did likewise with his weapons. Then her nimble fingers were working at the buttons on his trousers. She motioned for him to sit, then bent and pulled off his boots.

  “What about your side?” she asked, eyeing his bandage.

  “Let me worry about that.”

  She stood, as did he. He pulled her close, running his hands up her bare back to her neck. Holding her head between his hands, he lowered his lips to a fraction above hers. She arched toward him, bringing her lips fully against his in a long, tantalizing kiss. Her tongue snaked into his mouth, entwining with his, searching, exploring, arousing.

  His hands traveled to her waist, releasing her breeches. He stepped back and let his eyes roam over her appreciatively. She stood proudly beneath his frank appraisal. She was completely naked except for her boots and mask. Her hair hung in damp strands, one dark tendril curling around her right breast as if in a caress.

  She tossed the errant curl over her shoulder. Taking up a towel, she fluffed her hair dry, all the while edging her way across the room, careful to keep the telltale mole on her left buttock out of sight. Stopping below the lamp, she said, “If you have looked your fill, we can douse the light. Then, and only then, will I remove my mask.”

  He walked to the bunk and sat down. One last time he let his eyes devour her. Beneath the lamplight her skin had a golden glow. At last he nodded.

  She blew out the light, removed the mask and made her way to the bunk. His arms enclosed her waist as he tumbled her onto the bed. On his knees, he reached down and pulled off her boots. His hands searched their way up her legs, slowly, endlessly, until he found where they met. He heard her gasp, and the sound led him to her lips. They were full and moist beneath his kiss, tasting of sea spray. His fingers threaded through her hair, and it was silky to his touch.

  He continued his blind exploration, kissing her nose, her eyes, her cheeks. Nuzzling his nose into her neck, he found her ear.

  “I want you, my proud beauty,” he whispered huskily. His hands continued in their travels, first finding her breasts. They were firm and high, and eager for his touch. The nipples rose immediately against his palms. He chuckled knowingly. His hands roamed her body, seeking, searching out her most vulnerable spots.

  She moaned and thrashed beneath him, and then suddenly she wriggled out from under him. He felt the mattress give with her movements, but in the dark he could not tell what she was doing. For one brief moment he imagined she might be preparing to plunge a knife into his breast.

  Then he felt her hair tickling the inside of his leg. Her tongue flicked a path of fire along his inner thigh, heading even higher. He drew in his breath in anticipation. For long, agonizing moments she toyed with him with tongue and teeth and fingers. Then her mouth sheathed his aroused member and he moaned aloud. She worked with him until he thought he would explode, but she allowed him no release. Each time he was about to climax, she eased up and changed her tactics, finding new ways to drive him mindless.

  “Enough, Emerald,” he groaned at last. “Give over!”

  She laughed huskily. “Not this time, Reed Taylor. In my bed I give no quarter. Neither do I expect any.”

  She swung herself up to straddle him. She eased onto his tortured shaft, enclosing him in moist velvet. “You can ride next,” she promised in a sultry whisper. “Right now it is my turn.”

  His hands found her hips as she lowered herself until the tips of her breasts just lightly brushed the curling hairs of his chest. Her lips found his in a demanding, almost angry kiss. Her trim young thighs rose and fell, and he found her rhythm and matched it with his powerful thrusts. Her hair fell around them like a curtain, shutting out the world and enclosing them in their own pleasures. Their passions built to heights unbound until they both reached a release so ecstatic that it hurled them beyond reason, into a time and space of their own making.

  Both of them cried out and Kathleen clung to him, shaking, until the wonder subsided and she could once again control herself. Finally she sat up, brushed her hair back, and said, “Now it is your turn, for what is left of the night. Until dawn I am yours to do with as you will.” For the rest of the night he made love to her in every conceivable fashion he could imagine. He teased and tantalized until she was drunk on his kisses and his touch. She murmured love words to him in a provocative mixture of Spanish, French, and English that awakened his senses time and again. Her voice was deep and throaty with emotion.

  He pushed his body and hers to the limits of their endurance, and just when he thought he was thoroughly exhausted, he found himself wanting her again. She had said that she was his to do with as he wished and would ask no quarter, and he put her word to the test. He took her both roughly and gently, and granted her no reprieve when he knew she was weary and sleepy.

  Toward dawn, he took her one last time, drowning her senses and his in a rapture so complete that at the explosive moment of their stupendous climax she cried out, “Oh, Reed, I love you! I love you so!”

  As he floated back to reality, his mind caught at her words. Not only her words, but her voice. Just for a moment he had thought it was Kathleen’s voice crying out to him in the dark. But no, that could not be. Emerald had uttered the words he so longed to hear Kathleen say, and she had said them in a moment of extreme passion. His mind was tired and playing tricks on him. Kathleen was back in Savannah, and Kathleen desperately despised him . . .

  At the thought of Kathleen, guilt stabbed him. Through his exhaustion, he acknowledged to himself that he had just committed adultery. Worse, he had thoroughly enjoyed it. It bothered him that he should be so drawn to another woman when he loved Kathleen so completely. He didn’t understand his strange attraction to Emerald.

  Reed winced to think what Kat would do if she ever found out about this. But, damn it all, if she had been behaving like a proper wife and meeting his male needs, he would probably never have strayed. With this to salve his conscience, and a firm resolve to straighten things out with Kathleen soon, he drifted into a deep sleep.

  Kathleen lay beside Reed until she was sure he was asleep. As she had drifted down from her cloud of ecstasy, she realized what she had cried out in her passion. She prayed that Reed had not caught her words, or if he had, that he would not ponder them. She hoped that if he had heard them he would consider them spoken only in and for the moment, and not question her. Above all, she hoped she had not exposed her cover. When he said nothing and fell asleep, she breathed easier.

  When she was sure he was sound asleep, she eased herself from the bunk. Quietly she dressed, taking a fresh mask from the drawer rather than risk waking him by trying to find the other in the bed. She slipped silently from the room and went on deck.

  She had Timmy bring her coffee and peaches from the galley, and feeling the need for privacy, climbed high into the rigging and perched there. As she sat there thinking, Kathleen realized that she was, in a way she had never anticipated, the victim of her own scheme. As Emerald, she had been free to entice and seduce Reed in a manner far more bold than ever before. The encounter had been daring and glorious, but now Kathleen had to deal with an odd sense of betrayal and jealousy. It was ridiculous, of course, to feel jealous of Emerald—she was Emerald.

  Still the sense of betrayal lingered. Reed had been unfaithful to her! Technically, he had not committed adultery, but he had no way of knowing that, and it was this that both saddened and angered her. How could he do this to her! Then, on a more honest note, she conceded that she’d broug
ht it on herself. Besides, if truth be told, the night just past had been nothing less than spectacular! A delicious smile curved her lips as she recalled their passionate lovemaking.

  For some time, Kathleen wrestled with the problem of Reed’s infidelity and her own muddled reactions to it. Finally she resolved it somewhat by adding it to her list of grievances against him and renewing her pledge of piracy and revenge. With a confused sigh, she settled back to forget herself in the beauty of the morning.

  She was still there an hour and a half later, among the taut shrouds, when Reed came on deck. He eyed her for a moment, then climbed up to join her.

  “Good morning,” he grinned. “Where are we?”

  “About ten minutes from sighting the Georgian shore,” she told him. “If you don’t mind, we’ll drop you at the mouth of the river. I really can’t afford to get caught in a trap of my own making.” She gave him an easy smile, though in another sense, she had done just that.

  “I understand. I’ll have no problem hitching a ride from there.”

  “How is your side?”

  “Your good doctor just removed the stitches.”

  Kathleen laughed. “He does better needlework than I would ever hope to,” she joked.

  When they parted, she offered him her hand. “Well, Captain Taylor, this has been a memorable encounter!” She gave him a sly look.

  “I should hope so!” he retorted with an unfathomable gleam in his eyes.

  Chapter 21

  THE social event of the season was St. Theresa’s Ball held in mid-October every year. This was the moment every debutante awaited, her moment of glory. The ball was held in a huge ballroom with an encircling gallery, and made a perfect setting for debuts. Each girl of sixteen would walk down the wide staircase on the arm of her escort to be formally introduced into society. She would be dressed in traditional white, while girls previously presented would wear pastels.