Linna : Historical Romance (The Brocade Collection, Book 5)

by Jackie Ivie

  “Yes I do.”

  “Why?”

  Because I love you! She did, too. Even with what he was and who he was. Even if her love wasn’t returned. That part was the worst. It’s why she’d been crying. The realization stunned her. Linna blinked rapidly and swallowed and was rewarded as her eyes cleared.

  “I can’t hear you,” he answered, as if she’d spoken aloud.

  “I don’t...want you,” she whispered.

  She watched a nerve jerk in his jaw before he answered. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this game we’re playing. I’ve decided to change the rules.”

  “What game?” she asked.

  “You don’t want me. You don’t desire me. You don’t want to be with me. You wish I’d sleep elsewhere. Am I right so far?”

  “Yes.”

  “And whatever I do, you’re not going to want me or desire me or want to be in my company, right?”

  Linna gulped on her own reaction. It would help if he weren’t standing there, taking up more than his share of the room, exhibiting bare chest, muscled shoulders, and his torso with the little line of hair gesturing downward toward parts that were hidden...

  Stop it, Linna! She forced her eyes to move to his face. She gave him her most level look but couldn’t hold it. The wall behind him was safer. She moved her view to that.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “Right,” she lied.

  “Good. I’ll move on. Since I can’t touch you, any contact between us has to be at your instigation. Am I right again?”

  “There won’t be any,” she answered and moved back to his face.

  “Oh. Sounds like you got the rules. I’m not going to touch you. I’m not going to go near you. And you’ll do the same with me. Fair enough?”

  “Perfect,” she responded.

  “One of us is going to lose here. Do you want to hedge a bet before we begin?”

  She opened her mouth to reply but nothing came. The longer he’d spoken the harder all of it was to hide. Little rivulets of sensation were coursing right to her breasts, making her nipples painfully rigid against the material. She didn’t have to see it. She only hoped the brown tweed was covering it successfully since she’d worn it for that reason. His next words shattered that notion.

  “All you have to do is say the word, Linna love.”

  His low whisper made even more shivers join in at the backs of her knees and Linna ground her teeth. “What word?”

  “My release.”

  “Never,” she answered.

  He smiled, but his eyes didn’t. They remained dark and unreadable. “Just making certain of my facts, Ma’am.” He pulled the shirt from his lower arms and dropped it to the floor.

  “I have better things to do than play your game.”

  “I know you do. You’ve got your supper to eat.”

  “Exactly,” she answered.

  “So, get eating.”

  “I’m going to pretend you don’t exist, Mister Larket.” Linna swiveled on her trunk and faced the wall. She forced herself to concentrate at fishing a bite of stew out and tasting it. Cord was right. Simons was a very good cook.

  “Fair enough.”

  She heard the whisper of cloth as it probably passed his legs, clinging to his muscled calves…or maybe he was having trouble getting his trousers down his thighs. He shouldn’t wear them so tight. He should have them made larger. No man had to wear his clothing molded to every nuance of him, every rock-hard bulge, every—

  Stop it, Linna! She forced herself to taste another bite. She eased the top button of her blouse open with a surreptitious hand. She told herself she had to. The motion of swallowing against the collar was threatening to choke her. She stopped at the third button down, smoothed the placket back into place over her bosom, and took another bite.

  The sound of a splash made the bite stick to the roof of her mouth. She had to tongue it back down. He could splash all he liked, she wasn’t going to look!

  Linna forced herself to chew, to swallow. Take another bite. Chew. Swallow. Then another bite. Another.

  No splashing, in such a long time? What was he up to now?

  Linna cocked her head just a bit, making certain it was done without any perceptible motion and slid her eyes to him. She released the breath when she saw he was still wore trousers. Linna looked back to her meal before she thought another thing. She was not disappointed that he was still dressed. She wasn’t! She was annoyed because he was so stupid. He had his head completely soaped, and the mess of it was making streams of suds run down his chest to leave dark, wet trails on his pants. She wondered how he was going to rinse that off and tipped her head to see.

  He wasn’t having much trouble with it, after all. He simply bent down and went head-first into the pail, making an even bigger mess on the shirt he’d tossed to the floor when he pulled back up.

  He looked over at her, and Linna couldn’t even gasp her dismay at being caught, she couldn’t move. He had water dripping everywhere, and he wasn’t blinking. Then he twisted his lips and winked at her.

  “Oh!”

  That zapped her out of her paralysis. Linna turned away with such a vicious effort, her chin hit the corner of the washstand. Cord’s laughter rang out, adding to her distress, but he wasn’t going to know of it! She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. She refused to. Linna blinked rapidly at the tears that swelled until they were absorbed back where they came from.

  She was actually proud of herself, as she bent back to her supper. Then she heard the rip of what could only be his trousers. Her entire body stiffened until she felt the reaction in the middle of her back. He wasn’t ripping his clothing off! He wasn’t!

  He wasn’t that barbaric...was he?

  She refused to check. Linna put another bite in her mouth, swallowed, then took another. Simons had used a savory blend of sage and paprika when he’d cooked his chicken. The spices rolled about her tongue as she made her mind put names to them. Cord hadn’t any trousers left that she knew of. It was extremely foolhardy of him to destroy a pair, especially leather ones....

  Wait a moment, she thought. Leather doesn’t tear like that.

  He caught the glance this time, as if he’d been expecting it, and she gaped. It wasn’t at his gaze, although she felt singed by the contact, it was because he’d just ripped a pair of women’s lace-bedecked pantaloons in half and was drying his hair off with it.

  My under-garments? He’s using my under-garments? She reeled, and he must have known she was, because he watched her with an unblinking moss-green stare. Linna turned back to her stew.

  “Enjoying your sup?” he asked in a low tone.

  “Yes, thank you,” she said primly. “It’s very good. Simons has my compliments. His dumplings are light, yet moist, while his chicken melts on my tongue.”

  He choked back what was probably another laugh. Linna straightened her back further. The man was little more than a savage and a fool-hardy one at that. He obviously didn’t have enough coin to buy her more under-garments.

  “Is something bothering you, sweet?”

  “Your presence,” she answered.

  He chortled. The sound annoyed her further. She concentrated on putting another bite in her mouth, chewing it and swallowing.

  “If you’re concerned over the slip, don’t be. It’s mine.”

  “You wear lace now?” she asked.

  “It was a memento.”

  Another bite, Linna. Just take another bite and ignore him!

  “And it isn’t yours,” he answered.

  The stew congealed in her stomach. She actually felt it. Linna had to swallow, rapidly and continually, in order to keep it down. His words meant nothing. The heat flooding up her breast meant nothing. Neither did the tears filling her eyes almost to overflowing and making her hate every bit that came with being female. I will not cry! I refuse! If he has bed every female I’ll ever come across, I don’t care! If he keeps every woman’s under-garments, he’s we
lcome to them...and more!

  The stew went out of focus as she watched it, willing herself not to blink. If she just kept the moisture from leaving her eyes, she could stop this. She knew she could.

  “Not anymore, anyway,” he finished, softly.

  Linna sucked in a breath of cool sweet air and felt such an array of emotions, she couldn’t pick them out separately. Her eyes were wide on the remains of her stew, shimmering where it perched on her lap, yet she didn’t really see it. She was recalling Cord, putting her garments to his nose and inhaling them after that first night. Linna was afraid of the rush of tremors, terrified of the needle-like feeling at her cheeks and nearly giggling at what could only be absolute joy.

  That emotion was truly terrifying.

  The whisper-like sound of what could only be his pants hitting the floor made her drop the spoon. Linna turned on her trunk. Cord was running two soaked cloths over himself, turning flesh and bone into a rippled, lightly-tanned, god-like creature, and dusting the floor with drops of mixed water and soap. It was incredible.

  Linna stood. She didn’t even hear the pot fall over the roar in her ears.

  Cord did though. He stopped at one knee and looked up. It wasn’t far to reach him, but it took more time that it should. Linna reached for the crease in his forehead, running her fingertips along it, then down the side of his face to his chin so she could lift it for her kiss.

  God, stop me! She begged it, then remembered. God didn’t listen.

  Cord straightened, pulling her to her tiptoes before he made a jerking motion to free his mouth. Linna watched as he stepped back.

  “I’m wet,” he said.

  “So?” she countered, running her hands along his chest, around his sides, and then she pulled him close.

  “You’re getting wet,” he told her.

  Linna moved a hand around his neck and pulled his head down to hers. “So?” She breathed the word into the cavern of his mouth, then she used the motion he’d taught her, dancing with his tongue until it seemed impossible to think.

  His chest was heaving, and Linna moved with each of his breaths, feeling every bit of the heat, the dampness and the sensation that was Cord Larket. She moved her hands to her vest and pulled it off, flinging it somewhere over her shoulder.

  Cord pulled away. “You shouldn’t do that,” he warned.

  “Why?”

  “We leave the ship tomorrow. Early.”

  “So?” she asked again, pulling every button out of her shirt as quickly as her fingers would move.

  “You have to wear something...when we do.”

  Linna had the blouse undone, but knew it would take too long to unfasten her cuffs. She didn’t want to waste that much time. She wanted to feel him and quickly before her sanity returned.

  “You’re going to...ruin your outfit,” he huffed out the final three words.

  Linna knew it had something to do with the way she’d pulled the laces from the front of her chemise, pushing it down and releasing her breasts from the little confinement they’d been in. “I have more,” she answered.

  “But–.”

  “You talk too much.”

  “I’m serious, Linna—” he started, then lost the rest of it on his groan.

  Linna put both arms around his neck and jumped up, pressing into him, crushing her softness against his chest. The sound that filled the cabin wasn’t coming from just his throat. But she couldn’t stay in place. Her legs kept slipping, and it was difficult to hold onto the water-and-soap covered muscle atop his shoulders.

  “Hold me up!” she hissed.

  “You’re going to have to release me first.”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “How the hell am I supposed to hold you if I can’t touch you?”

  Linna pulled her head back to look at him, drowning in those moss-green eyes. “I’m afraid of heights, and I’m off the floor. Now hold me.”

  Cord grinned and put both hands beneath her buttocks, lifting her easily against him. He wasn’t disinterested, either. He was Big. Hard. Ready. Linna split her legs, bracing each booted foot against the wall behind him.

  “You’re in danger of losing another pair of perfectly good drawers, Madame,” he ground out, while using his hips to apply heat where she needed it most. Even with material between them, Linna felt him. She clenched her thighs and rode him to such ecstasy, her body shook with it.

  “What...did you do?’ she brought her head back down to ask, filling her senses with the haziness of gray-green eyes.

  “Release me from my damned bargain, I’ll show you.”

  “No,” she whispered the word.

  “Release me,” he said again, in a harsher tone. A look of flashed across his face. A frightening one. Angered. Linna shook her head.

  “Damn you, Linna! Release me!”

  Cord’s nostrils flared, his eyes bored into hers, and his lips were pulled back in a snarl. Linna shoved her mouth against his, bruising her lips. With a hand, she pushed her skirts out of the way, hooked fingernails into the seaming at the crotch of her pantaloons and ripped.

  “Oh, no. No. Not without my release. No.”

  Cord tried to pull back to say it, but Linna didn’t let him. She latched onto the pulse showing in his throat, and sucked, sure to bruise again.

  “Release me!”

  Cord was yelling it, judging by the sound. Linna enlarged the hole she’d just made in order to shove herself toward what he was denying her.

  “No,” she whispered against his flesh, licking at the reddish spot she’d made on his neck. “No. Never.”

  “Never? Why? No! Stop! Oh...love.”

  Cord’s voice cracked as she pushed onto him, her flesh expanding to encompass, enwrap. Imprison. Linna cried aloud with pleasure before fighting for her next breath. And the one after that. Cord may have been speaking words of dissent, but it didn’t match his body. He was helping, bucking his hips to match her tempo. His hands were supporting her, too, while his arms shifted her back and forth against him. Back from him. Ramming forward. Back. Ramming forward again. Each one gaining more depth, and more intensity.

  “Oh, Linna. Bebe. Oh yes! Oh don’t stop, love. Don’t stop.” The words accompanied their motions, making a matching cadence. “Don’t stop, Linna love...never! That’s it. Right there. Yes...no. Wait! This isn’t right. You have to release me, damn it! Release me...please? You hear me? I’m begging!”

  Linna slammed herself to him over and over, making their conjoined bodies thump against the wood, keeping the rhythm savage and brutal with every kick of her feet against the wall.

  “No,” she answered.

  “But—why?”

  “Because I don’t want you,” she panted.

  “You...don’t?”

  His growl was accompanied stronger, surer strokes. Thick. Heavy. Pounding lunges.

  “No!” The word was wailed, sent on such a keening note of sensation, she was surprised when time and sense returned, that he still heaved into her, pummeling her body as he strained toward his own release.

  “But...why?” he asked again, “why? Oh, Linna. Love. Don’t stop now...”

  Stop? Linna didn’t have the will to do anything except spiral into paradise. Her body wasn’t her own anymore, it was his. Everything was his.

  “Is it...so you can hate me in the morning?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “No. Yes. No.”

  “Which?” Cord’s teeth were gritted. His mouth locked in a snarl. His eyes nearly closed, while his body pumped so strenuously against her it sounded like he was trying to beat the wall down.

  “Yes!” She panted it.

  “You hate…me?”

  “Yes!” She managed to answer again.

  “You hate...this, too?”

  “Y-y…es!”

  The word came out garbled. Indistinct. It didn’t match the words in her heart. She didn’t dare say those. They were too damning. No one would ever hear them.

  “Linna. Lin
na. Linna.”

  Her name was curse, accompanying each heave of his body. He turned his head then, tightened his jaw, yet still couldn’t stop the cry of satiation and ecstasy from sounding. Linna clutched him to her, gripping with every limb as his groan grew louder. Longer. Spasms rocked his body, taking her along. And then it was over. He stilled.

  It isn’t true, Cord. It isn’t true.

  He turned his head and met her gaze. Fathomless green eyes regarded her from inches away. Every other feature looked chiseled from stone. Linna felt the cry that ran through her depths. Loud. Harsh. Heartrending. She was amazed he didn’t.

  His body was still enmeshed with hers, his chest was still shaking. He had a fine sheen of moisture covering every bit of him she could see. If she could have, she’d have shut her eyes and heart and mind to all of it.

  He curled his lip. “Looks like you lose,” he said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Linna hadn’t seen many ports, but the town of Larroque didn’t look all that different. Just smaller. A lot smaller.

  There was activity going on everywhere. Dark-skinned workers, clad only in trousers, formed a line and moved crates and trunks one-at-a-time, hand-to-hand down an unfenced gangway, keeping a rhythm only they seemed to hear. The smell of fish and brine, sweat and flowers hung in every breath she took.

  Linna gulped and leaned against the bulkhead. She’d been brought here over two hours earlier, and it hadn’t been by Cord. In fact, she hadn’t even seen him since last night.

  Last night? Oh, if she could only unwind the clock! If only she’d done something different, kept her attention on her supper, kept her mouth shut...anything! Anything would have been better than having to live through his silence as he’d dressed and then left.

  Tears obscured the cacophony of light and color all about her. She blinked rapidly at them. She sagged further into the wood at her back and continued to sweat. The heat was incredible, and made worse by the black, superfine woolen traveling outfit she wore. She shouldn’t have had it sewn. She shouldn’t have wasted space in her trunk to pack it. She should have taken more care with her brown tweed. She should have done a thousand things different!