Captive Embraces

by Fern Michaels

Sirena looked from the trembling child to Stephan and frowned. Wren was petrified. Was it Stephan who terrified her? Wren finished the cake and licked her lips. Sirena pushed the warm milk toward her and told her to finish it and go to bed. Round eyes pleaded with Sirena. “What is it, Wren? What’s wrong? Did you have a bad dream? Is something troubling you? Come, finish your drink and you can sleep in my room tonight. We’ll talk until you fall asleep.” The relief on Wren’s face stirred all of Sirena’s maternal instincts.

  Stephan stepped closer to the girl, looming over her, his bulk throwing Wren into shadow. The child cowered, trembling and shaking so violently it was impossible for her to hold the cup in her hands.

  Oh, dear God, no, Sirena thought to herself. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t. Not this beautiful, sweet child! Her emerald eyes became like frozen chips of ice when she stared into Stephan’s mocking, pale eyes. “Good night, Stephan,” she said with all of her old authority. “Come, Wren.”

  “It’s not fitting for a child her age to sleep in your bed,” Stephan said coldly. “Take her to her own room.”

  “Go to hell, Stephan,” Sirena spat as she took Wren’s arm and led her from the kitchen. Sirena seemed to stand straighter; her shoulders were drawn back and her head held high. Stephan might be able to threaten her and reduce her to a cowering imbecile, but he would never do that to Wren. Not while there was life left in Sirena’s body; she would never allow it.

  “Did you hear me, darling Sirena,” he snarled. “Take the girl to her own room.”

  Sirena turned and was beside him before he could blink. “And did you hear me, Stephan. I said go to hell. Wren comes with me!” She allowed her hand to slip over the scrubbed kitchen table top and grasped the handle of a stout carving knife. With a lightning movement, the blade was at his jugular. “Tell me again where Wren will sleep tonight and then tell me where I said you were to go. Speak, my husband,” she said menacingly, pressing the tip of the knife into his neck. Droplets of bright red blood dripped down into his collar. Imperceptibly, she moved the blade, almost making a circle around his throat. She laughed, the sound eerie and chilling. “I’m waiting, Stephan.”

  Malevolent hatred spewed from his pale eyes as he murdered her time and time again in the confines of his mind.

  Slowly, Sirena backed off, the carving knife held in front of her. “Sleep well, Stephan. You may not have many nights left to you. I want to kill you as much as you want to kill me. Which of us will realize his goal?” she whispered before she left the room.

  Stephan fingered his neck and wiped at the blood on his fingers. For the first time in his life, he knew fear of a woman. He would have to get rid of her sooner than he had thought. There was something about her, something about the way she moved and the way she had handled the weapon. He wondered why she was so clumsy and inept with the rapier. A musing look settled on his features as he cut himself a piece of cake.

  It was a bleak, rainy day, and the lamps in the office couldn’t seem to dissolve the gloom. Tyler Sinclair’s eyes ached from the strain of looking through his finely scripted legal papers. Time and again his gaze went to the window and the fog that eddied around the treetops. He stood and walked to the window, longing for a day of warm sunshine to make him feel energetic. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting this way when he had mountains of work to do? It was Camilla. It was because he had seen her aboard the Sea Siren the night before with van der Rhys, and the encounter had left him with unbidden pangs of jealousy.

  He knew she was married, unhappily so from the appearance of things. But that wasn’t the cause of his jealousy. No, it was because she was apparently having an affair with Cal. If anyone knew Camilla, it was himself. It was too late for him to do anything now. For some reason, he was always after the fact. Was it because secretly he wanted it that way? No responsibilities, no ties.

  His thoughts ran to Sirena and he blanched at what he supposed were her circumstances. She had not been seen out of the house since she married Stephan. An uneasy feeling settled itself between his shoulder blades and he made a move to return to his desk and the work waiting for him. A sparrow, flying blind, crashed against the window and fell to the ground. Startled, Tyler felt the bird’s pain and flinched. Was that what he was doing, flying blind? Of course it was. It was what he had always done when things threatened to get the best of him.

  Before he could change his mind, he reached for his coat and threw it over his shoulder as he left the office. He would go to Camilla and settle it all. He wanted her. He could no longer deny it. And, by all that was holy, he would have her.

  Tyler was admitted to the house on Drury Lane and shown into the parlor while a maid went to announce him. When she returned, she asked him to wait, the mistress would be down shortly and would he care for tea. Tyler declined, he wasn’t here for tea. As soon as the servant left the room, Tyler bounded up the stairs, calling Camilla’s name.

  “In here, Tyler,” she answered languidly from her nest in a high bed surrounded by frilly, fluffy pillows. “How shocking! What would Regan say if he found you here? He might take it into his head to call you out,” she answered her own question.

  “Would he call you out if he knew you were bedding his own son?” Tyler demanded harshly.

  “How dare you make such an accusation? What right have you to storm in here and say things like that to me? I won’t listen,” she put her hands to her ears.

  “You’re damn well going to listen to me whether you like it or not,” Tyler shouted as he leaned. over the bed and pulled her hands away from her ears. “This isn’t van der Rhys you’re talking to. Remember, Camilla, I knew you a long time ago and, if my mouth should ever decide to flap, then you could find yourself in some pretty dire straits. Why,” he said ominously, “you know they still stone adulteresses.”

  “You can’t frighten me, Tyler. You would have as much to lose as I would.”

  “True, but then I don’t care anymore and you do. I’m a man and you’re a woman and that makes a big difference.”

  “What do you want; why are you here? I’ll have Regan pay you back the money you advanced me. I’ll see to it today.”

  “That’s not what I want.”

  Camilla giggled. “Are you saying you want me? How gallant! I was always fond of you, Tyler, you know that. I even married you. That should prove something to you.”

  “It proves something, all right. It proves you married me for what you thought you could get. You and your father both thought my parents would relent about my inheriting if I married before I was twenty-five. When they didn’t, you left me, convincing me you would wait for me. You lied, Camilla. You always lie. I know you for exactly what you are.”

  “And you still want me? That doesn’t say much for you, does it, Tyler?” Her voice became soft; there was a shine in her pansy eyes and a tear fell on her cheek. “You know the worst about me and you still want me.” She reached up and her delicate white hands pulled his head down to hers. “Come here, Tyler, let me hold you close.”

  “Why couldn’t you have waited just a little longer?” he groaned as she brought her lips to his.

  Camilla drew out of his embrace and looked into his eyes. Her breathing was loud in the silence of the room. “I couldn’t wait, Tyler. I want it now. You’re no good for me. We both know it. You loathed coming here, I can see it in your eyes. In your own way, you’re the most honorable man I’ve ever known. You hate yourself for wanting me. We both agreed to forget our marriage; no one needed to know, we told each other. We were free.”

  “You mean you were free of me to hook another fish on your line,” he muttered. “You’re right about one thing, though. I do hate myself for loving you. If you can bed van der Rhys and his son, then you can spread the wealth a little further. For me, Camilla,” he said in a husky tone, finding her lips with his own. “I need you, Camilla. I’ll always need you.”

  His hands slipped the nightdress from her shoulders and soon they were naked together, be
side one another, his eyes devouring the purity of her form and the silkiness of her skin. Gently, he ran his fingers through her wealth of golden hair. How he loved the satin feel against his hands and cheek. For a time he held her tight, simply enjoying the nearness of her. He felt her breasts grow taut with desire, and he drew in his breath, relishing the clean, sweet smell of her.

  Camilla stretched out, leaning closer to him, the warmth of his body seeping into hers as she pressed her slimness against him. Shivering with his hot breath on her neck, she answered his light, teasing kisses and offered him her throat, her breasts. His hands were practiced and sensual and they moved over her, caressing each curve. She found herself moving to the rhythm he initiated and felt herself take wing and soar. All the forgotten sensations coursed through her as she brought her hands down his back, feeling the strength of his muscles and the smoothness of his skin.

  She felt her buttocks being lifted slightly as he began a series of sensual thrusts. Frenzied, she arched her back to meet each wave of passion. Lightning and thunder rolled across the sky as she burst internally time and time again till she didn’t know if the storm outside her window could excel the tumult within her.

  An eternity later Tyler leaned on one elbow and looked deeply into Camilla’s eyes. “Tell me you’ve enjoyed anyone more than me. Tell me you haven’t missed my caresses and my arms holding you. You’re mine, Camilla. You belong to me,” he groaned as he buried his face between her breasts.

  Camilla stroked his dark head. “You know I’ve never found anyone like you, Tyler. I still love you, will always love you. But I can’t go hungry! I won’t! There are other things I want from life, Tyler. Things you can’t give me, can never give me if your parents disinherit you. If I could have those and you, too, I’d go with you in a moment.”

  Tyler’s head jerked upright. “Do you mean that? Is it only wealth that stands between us? I’ll give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of, Camilla.” His voice was low and steady; she believed every word he said. As she crushed his head to her breast, she wished she could be a different kind of person. She wished she could tell him money be damned, the only thing that mattered was being with him. But she wasn’t strong enough, she just couldn’t do it.

  Tyler’s fingers wound through her blond hair. “I’ll have you yet, Camilla; do you know that?”

  For answer, she lifted his head and brought her mouth to his. “Make love to me, Tyler. Again and again,” she whispered throatily.

  When Sirena awoke that morning, she felt better than she had in weeks. She remembered exactly where she was and what had transpired between herself and Stephan the night before. She was herself again; she had stood up to Stephan; he could bully and threaten her no more. Turning over, she felt Wren’s slight, warm body beside hers. God, when she thought of what could have happened to the child. Why hadn’t she or Frau Holtz been aware of what the little girl was suffering?

  She looked down at the sweet sleeping face and silently begged forgiveness. How in heaven could she have been so incredibly foolish? She knew what kind of man Stephan was, she knew he was bordering on the insane. Poor little Wren, when Stephan couldn’t satisfy himself by torturing his wife, he had turned his terrifying tactics on her.

  That was all behind them now. All Sirena had to do was keep her wits about her and she could leave it all behind. She would tell Frau Holtz this morning that she would adhere to her plan to leave England. Two more days and she, Wren and Frau Holtz would be free of Stephan Langdon.

  Sirena climbed from the bed, careful not to waken the child. She dressed quietly and, in her mind, listed which belongings she would take with her when the Sea Spirit sailed out of port.

  Could she leave without seeing Regan for one last time? She must. She faced in her heart she would never see him again. When they found her gone, Caleb would tell Regan of his visit to her. Tears stung her eyes when she thought of Caleb.

  Her head began to ache and she rubbed cologne on her temples in an effort to abate the pounding. There were things to be done but she didn’t think she had the energy or the stamina. She had been her own prisoner since Stephan had brought her back from Bedlam. She had been unable to conduct even the most mundane affairs of everyday living. She hadn’t been eating correctly, sending the trays back to the kitchen barely touched. She was weak and much too thin. But, last night had changed all of that. Stephan had robbed her of the will to fight for herself, but he hadn’t counted on her deep, maternal feelings for Wren and didn’t know she would fight like a tigress protecting her cub.

  Sirena descended the stairs to the dining room and made short work of her breakfast. She would need every bit of strength. She was relieved Stephan had left early for his classes at the academy but she knew he would join her for luncheon. He wouldn’t want the happenings of the night before to reinforce her will if he could possibly help it.

  No sooner had she finished her meal when she heard the sound of the doorpull and a few moments later Frau Holtz ushered Tyler Sinclair into the dining room. She saw the old woman, who as yet knew nothing of the events of the night before, look at her empty plate with pleased amazement.

  Sirena’s face brightened. “Tyler, how nice of you to come and see me, in spite of my husband’s orders to the contrary. What a miserable day to visit, though. I don’t know how you English abide this weather. Even in summer the fog rolls in and cloaks the city for days at a time.”

  “I suppose I’m accustomed to it. When you don’t know anything else, it is easy to live with.”

  “You should visit the Spice Islands, Tyler: You would love it there and never want to leave. Warm, gentle breezes the whole year through, sparkling clear blue water. Smiling, happy people. Slow, easy living. A peaceful atmosphere to live in. Do yourself a favor, visit the East Indies someday. You’ll never want to leave.”

  “Sirena, I came here to talk to you about a matter of importance. To me,” he amended. “Listen and don’t interrupt before you make a decision. I need money, Sirena. A lot of it.”

  Sirena’s face fell into perplexed lines. She never remembered hearing Tyler sound so serious and, as she listened to him, her expression became incredulous.

  “If you help me,” Tyler said, “I can promise you a clear road back to Regan. Don’t ask me how I can make such a promise, but believe me when I tell you it is so. At the same time I will take care of your current husband so that he never bothers you again.”

  “Tyler, what is it? How can you make me such rash promises? Are you in some sort of trouble?” Her eyes were large and full of shock at his desperate words and at the wild look he projected. “Tell me,” she said softly.

  “I don’t know how to ask you this,” Tyler hedged.

  “Just say it, Tyler,” Sirena said impatiently.

  Tyler blurted, “I want us to go to sea and be partners. I want us to sail the seas and be pirates. That’s the only way I can get enough money for what I ... Will you do it, Sirena? Believe me, I wouldn’t ask if there was any other choice open to me.”

  Sirena’s mind raced. “Are you saying ... do you expect me ... Tyler, that’s piracy!” she said virtuously. “Outright thievery!”

  “Exactly!” Tyler beamed. “I knew you would understand. Will you do it?”

  Sirena’s mind continued to race. “Tell me why and then I’ll let you know my answer. You know, Tyler, piracy is not a matter to take lightly. You could hang by the neck if you’re caught and then what good would all the monies and cargoes be to you. I, for one, have no desire to be executed.”

  “Don’t you want Regan back?” Tyler asked, his eyes moist and pleading.

  “And if I agree to your plan, then you can guarantee that?” She shook her head. “If I get Regan back, if it’s meant to be, then I will do it myself. I do appreciate your offer, but I fail to see how you can help me,” Sirena said sarcastically.

  “Sirena, I give you my word.”

  “Tyler, what do you take me for? Piracy is a dangerous business. I told
you I have no wish to hang by the neck.”

  “You miss the sea; you hate your husband and you’re in fear of him and you want Regan. If you do as I ask, then you will have everything you want. Help me,” he pleaded.

  Sirena was torn by the look in the man’s eyes. She ached to give him some form of comfort. “If you would just tell me why, then—”

  “I can’t tell you, that’s the problem. I’ve never begged for anything in my life, but I am now. You’re the only person who can help me.”

  “There’s no need for you to grovel, Tyler. I’ll help you, but not for the reasons you suggest. I’m leaving here in two days to take my housekeeper and crew back to Batavia. If you wish to sail with us, it will be your chance to see the Spice Islands. If we should come across any prosperous ships along the way ... well ... ,” she shrugged.

  Tyler wrapped his arms around her and kissed her soundly on the cheek. “I knew you would help me. I just knew it. Stephan, does he know?”

  “Of course not, and you must not give away our secret in any way.”

  “Never!” Tyler yelled, outraged that she would suggest such a thing.

  “Good. Take your baggage to the ship and be ready to sail at midnight the day after tomorrow. If you aren’t on board at that time, we’ll sail without you.”

  “I’ll be there, have no fear. Thank you, Sirena. But, Regan...”

  “That’s over and done with. Don’t mention his name or bring him up to me again,” Sirena said coldly.

  “Whatever you say,” Tyler agreed happily as he made his preparations to leave. “I think you just saved my life, lovely lady.”

  “Don’t count on it, Tyler. This could well be the beginning of the end of your life. And no recriminations later. I warned you, remember that.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  In his coach on his way home from the academy, Stephan Landgon passed Drury Lane and he thought about his daughter, Camilla. He was going to return home for luncheon but the prospect of seeing Sirena was far from attractive. He hadn’t yet decided what to do about her sudden about-face into the old self-confidence and he was loath to have her get the better of him once more before he decided on a course of action. He should have taken the knife away from her last night and cut out her heart with it. He blanched, his ashen features a mask of consternation and fear. He knew in his heart he could never have taken the weapon out of her hand; she would have killed him with it first. His fingers sought the small wound on his neck and he remembered the feel of the sharp point held there. Wherever had she learned that unpleasant and dangerous tactic?