Dark Rider

by Iris Johansen

  The lazy smile left his lips. “I don’t feel as if I’ve won. I feel—” He broke off and removed his arm from her middle. He said roughly, “Go on. But you’ll stay tomorrow night.”

  She shook her head as she slipped from the bunk.

  “Why not?” he asked sharply. “What difference does it make? By now every man on this ship knows you’re coupling with me. You’ve certainly not been trying to hide it with your parading around with no clothes.”

  “I don’t care what they think.” She had a sudden thought. “Does your uncle know?”

  “Not from my lips, but I’d wager he does. Bradford has a way of knowing everything going on around him even through a haze of brandy.” He paused. “Why? Do you mind?”

  “No … I just … he was kind to me.”

  “And he’ll continue to be kind to you. He would never think of intruding on us, and I’m the one who will get the edge of his tongue.” He shrugged. “So there’s no reason for you not to stay the night.”

  “There is reason.” She put on her sarong. “I don’t want you to …” She would not explain her dread of the intimacy that would be engendered by hours spent in his arms. Passion was dangerous enough. “I won’t stay the night with you. I’ll come to your bed, but then I’ll go.”

  His gaze narrowed on her face. “Persephone?”

  She frowned in puzzlement.

  “Persephone was the woman with whom Hades, the God of the Underworld, was so besotted he permitted her to spend half the year on earth in sunlight as long as she came back to his dark world for the rest of the year.” He glanced around the shadowy, candlelit cabin. “There are certain similarities.”

  “Nonsense. You’re certainly not besotted, and I will not ask your permission for anything.”

  “True.” He slowly nodded his head. “Very well, we’ll indulge in this most delightful of pastimes and then we’ll part. There are certainly advantages to remaining strangers. No boring discussions, no necessity for protestations of affection we don’t feel.” He lay back down and put his arm beneath his head. “Why should I complain as long as you come to me and give me what I want?”

  “You should not.”

  “Exactly.” He closed his eyes. “One hour after supper tomorrow night I want you walking through that door. And don’t wear that sarong again.”

  “I’ll wear what I please.”

  “If you come to me with naked breasts, the next night I’ll come to your cabin instead. Your beloved Lani’s in the cabin next door. Do you want her to hear you scream with pleasure?”

  Dear God, she didn’t want that to happen. Lani might understand that it was her body and not her mind that was in thrall to Jared, but Cassie would know shame for showing her weakness. “No.”

  “Then don’t make me angry. I won’t have you running naked about the ship.”

  She slammed the door behind her.

  Her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she stalked down the deck. The arrogance of his last words had been the final straw. She had lost too much tonight. When he had taken her, she had felt completely dominated, totally possessed. She couldn’t let him have total victory.

  The next night she paused outside Jared’s door to gather her courage. How foolish to be shaking like this. She had made the decision and she would not back down. She mustn’t think, just do it.

  Cassie drew a deep breath and threw open the door. She strode into the cabin and slammed the door behind her.

  “One hour after supper, Your Grace. Just as you commanded. I hurried to be sure I wouldn’t anger you.”

  He stared at her in astonishment. “My God.”

  “Why are you glaring at me? I’ve done everything you told me to do.” She touched the sarong she had wrapped around her upper body and shoulders. “And I’m no longer bare-breasted, you see? Doesn’t that please you?”

  She was naked from waist to feet. His gaze moved from bare hips to the tight curls that surrounded her womanhood. “Damn you.”

  Triumph. She felt a fierce surge of satisfaction. “I passed two of your seamen on the way to you, but I assure you they didn’t get one glimpse of my breasts.” He was rising from the bed and she braced herself. “Though they did stare somewhat and—” She broke off when he grabbed her shoulders. She lifted her chin and injected a mocking note into her voice. “I told you that you didn’t know what you wanted. Surely this isn’t reasonable. Why are you so angry?”

  “You know very well why I’m angry,” he said through his teeth as his hands tightened with bruising force on her shoulders. “I could strangle you.”

  She glared at him. “You can’t have everything your way. I won’t have it.”

  He shook her. “So you parade like a whore inviting every man to use you. You’re lucky you weren’t raped before you reached here.”

  “What difference if I’m raped by them on deck or you here in the cabin?”

  “Believe me, you’d know the difference. I’ve never raped you.” He shook her again. “Have I?”

  “You’re hurting me. Isn’t that the prelude to rape?”

  “I want to hurt you.” Nevertheless, his hands loosened slightly. “I’d like to—”

  “Strangle me,” she finished for him. “I know. You needn’t repeat yourself. It grows boring.”

  She saw at once she had gone too far. “I would hate to bore you,” he said silkily. “Let me see … now what can I do to entertain you?” His hands left her shoulders and moved down to cup her hips. “You obviously want attention paid to this portion of your body. The invitation is so blatant.”

  “You know I meant no invitation.”

  “Part your legs.”

  “No.”

  His fingers moved probingly, skillfully. She tensed as a ripple of heat went through her.

  “You know you like my hands on you.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’ll let you”—she gasped as his fingers stroked that most intimate part of her—“fondle me.”

  “Fondle?” He searched and found; his thumb and forefinger plucked at the nub. “Do you mean this?”

  She shuddered as the muscles of her stomach clenched with need. She didn’t answer.

  Her silence seemed to make him even angrier. “Damn you.” He stripped the sarong from her upper body, picked her up, and carried her toward the bed.

  “I don’t want you to do this,” she said desperately.

  “Then why did you come? You knew what would happen.” He sat her down on the bed and knelt on the floor in front of her. He pushed her legs apart and looked at her. The blood surged to where his gaze was fastened, pulsing, hot, tingling. She felt naked, exposed, owned.

  He said thickly, “I suppose I shouldn’t blame you for wanting to display this treasure. You’re very beautiful here.”

  She tried to close her legs, but he held them open with merciless grip.

  “But I do blame you.” His eyes were suddenly blazing up at her. Three fingers entered her, deep, thrusting.

  She gasped as the intrusion sent a bolt of heat through her.

  He withdrew and plunged and plunged again in pace with his words. “I—don’t—want—you—ever—to—do—it—again.”

  Dark pleasure was cascading through her. She must not give in to it. This was not the sensuality he had shown her last night—this was violent and merciless. “I’ll do—what I wish. You can’t force me to—do otherwise.”

  “The hell I can’t.” He pushed her back onto the bed and loomed over her. “I’ll see that you’re not tempted to—” He stopped and closed his eyes. “God.” His features contorted, then he got off her and stood up. “Did I … bruise you?” he asked curtly.

  His withdrawal had come so suddenly, she couldn’t quite comprehend it. She just stared at him.

  “Well, did I?”

  “No.” She felt as exhausted as if she had been through a hurricane, but there was no pain.

  He lay back down beside her and drew her into his arms. “Don’t do this to me
again.” His words were muffled in her hair. “It’s not safe. That’s the closest I’ve ever been to raping a woman.”

  His embrace was tender, and that was as bewildering to her as the violence. She had never really known tenderness from him. She wanted to stay there, to yield to it just for a moment. “You don’t understand, I can’t let you—” She broke off and then said wearily, “I cannot promise.”

  He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he rolled away from her and onto his back. “I see.”

  She had the uneasy feeling he spoke the truth, that he had seen her desperation to retain some control in these encounters.

  He said, “Very well, but I’d advise you to find tamer ways to challenge me.”

  She had no other way. He held all the weapons. “I’ll wear what I like.”

  “The devil you will. Don’t you ever give—” He shook his head. “All right, wear whatever suits you. Come to me naked. Come to me in a ball gown. I don’t care.”

  She was surprised at the surrender. “You don’t?”

  “Well, I’d prefer the ball gown.” He smiled crookedly. “You’ll remember I like to unwrap my packages.”

  His words brought back that scalding discomposure she had felt at supper. Ridiculous that mere words could shake her when she had just experienced the most sensual of intimacies with him. “I don’t have a ball gown.”

  “No? We must take care of that once we reach England.” His hand reached out and lazily rubbed her belly. “Red, I think. I like red, and it would be beautiful with your dark hair.”

  “I’ve never worn red. Clara thought it was a heathen color.” She stiffened beneath his touch but then relaxed as she realized the caress was without sensuality. It was soothing, almost affectionate, and as sexless as the way he stroked Kapu. “Don’t be foolish. What would I do with a ball gown? I’m not going to England to go to balls.”

  “That’s right.” He snapped his fingers. “How could I forget? But I do go to balls on occasion. I suppose if you’re to remain close to me, you’ll have to masquerade as a footman.” His gaze wandered to her breasts. “No, the encumbrances to that plan are too … sizable. Oh, well, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

  He was joking, she realized incredulously. After the tumult and intensity, it took her off guard. “That’s not amusing.”

  “I’m devastated you don’t appreciate my wit. It is a bit crude for the taste of most women of my acquaintance, but you’re not like them.”

  She felt an odd pang. No, she would never be like the women of Jared’s world. She would never have the gentleness or meekness. She would never have the grace or sweet ways.

  “What’s wrong?” His smile had faded as his gaze searched her face.

  “Nothing.” She didn’t look at him. “I wouldn’t want to be like your fine ladies, but I’m not crude. I would bring no shame to myself in your grand ballrooms.”

  “Christ, I didn’t say you were— Look at me.”

  “I don’t want to look at you.”

  He reached out and grasped her chin and turned her face toward him. “Now I truly have hurt you.”

  She shook her head.

  “Listen to me. You’re not crude. You have courage and an honesty that I’ve never seen in any other woman.” He added gruffly, “You’re also impulsive, hot-tempered, and the most obstinate chit I’ve ever encountered. I might want to strangle you, but I’d never be ashamed of you.”

  He meant it. He was staring directly into her eyes and she couldn’t look away. She was drifting, drowning, floating away from every mooring she had ever known. Dangerous. Dear God, how dangerous. She tore her gaze away from him. “I have to go,” she whispered.

  Something changed in his expression. His hand dropped away from her chin. “Yes.”

  She hadn’t wanted him to agree with her, she realized at once. She had wanted him to keep her, make her stay. More dangerous than she had imagined. She slipped from the bed.

  “How is Kapu?” he asked.

  “Nervous. Some days are better than others.” She found her sarong and wrapped it around her hips. “I’ll be glad to get him ashore.”

  “Are you still sleeping in the cargo hold?”

  “When the sea’s at all rough.” A memory suddenly came back to her. “You once said you have a horse better than Kapu.”

  “My mare runs like the wind. She’s won any number of purses for me.”

  “A mare?” She shook her head. “No mare could match Kapu.”

  “You told me that I shouldn’t judge a horse by glancing at him, and yet you’re guilty of that trespass. You haven’t even seen Morgana.”

  “That’s different.”

  One corner of his lips lifted. “Because it threatens your beloved stallion. Shall I tell you how I got Morgana? She came almost as far from England as your Kapu.”

  Curiosity suddenly sparked. “Did she? Where? I thought—” What was she doing? Conversation led to intimacy, and that was forbidden to her. “I don’t care where you got her.”

  He smiled. “Ah, how easy it is to fall into the pit of curiosity. I sympathize completely. I want to ask you a hundred questions, but that’s forbidden, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” She ignored the taunt and opened the door. She didn’t look at him as she asked, “Are you going to insist on coming to my cabin tomorrow night?”

  He went still. “I told you what would happen if you came to me in that sarong.”

  “I don’t want—” She would not plead with him. “Oh, do what you wish.”

  “That’s my intention.” He paused and then shrugged. “But as it happens, I prefer you to come here.”

  She felt a rush of relief. “I’ll still wear what—”

  “You’ve made your choice of wardrobe eminently clear,” he interrupted. “Good night.”

  “Good night.” She left the cabin.

  He had been terribly angry. Why had he spared her? Kindness? She didn’t want him to show her kindness or understanding. Either one rendered vulnerable the barriers she had lifted against him. Yet tonight he had shown her both. She had not dreamed defiance and conflict could lead to revelation and bonding.

  It would be all right. The barriers still held firm.

  She must just make sure not to draw any closer to him.

  Ku’aihelani.

  Floating, blissfully drifting, sunlight …

  She must not say it out loud. He must not know.

  She moved closer and whispered, “There were no sailors on deck tonight.”

  He kissed her temple. “Yes, there were. Just not on this side of the ship. I told them I’d throw them overboard if I caught them within view of this cabin.”

  That he had made sure he had his way even while giving her victory was characteristic of him. “Unreasonable,” she answered him softly. “They’ve already seen—”

  His lips covered hers. “Shut up,” he said roughly when he lifted his head. He parted her thighs and moved between them. “They won’t see you again. No one will.”

  “If I choose, they will. You cannot—”

  He entered her again with one deep thrust. “They won’t.” His hips lifted and fell as he started that wild, pagan rhythm. “Dammit, is this the only way I can keep you from arguing?”

  Argue? She couldn’t even remember what she had been saying. Her teeth sunk into her lower lip as he cupped her buttocks with his palms and lifted her with every thrust. The tension was building, becoming unbearable.…

  Her spine arched as she convulsed. She cried out as wave after wave of pleasure struck her.

  Ku’aihelani …

  “Lani, look at the porpoises!” Cassie leaned over the rail and pointed. “They’re following the ship. Do you remember the first time you took me swimming with the porpoises at Hanlua Bay?”

  Lani chuckled. “How could I forget? You almost drowned. You wanted to follow them forever.”

  Cassie smiled as she watched the sleek gr
ay bodies cleave through the water. “It was wonderful … so much love and joy. I felt like one of them.”

  “Unfortunately, you don’t swim well enough to become a porpoise, so you’ll have to live on shore. At least you have Kapu.” A smile lingered on Lani’s lips as she shook her head. “Though I’ve often wondered if the reason you insisted on swimming with Kapu was that you wanted him to join you and the porpoises in some underwater playground.”

  “Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t be so childish. I know nature has rules that can’t be broken.”

  “One part of you does, perhaps, but another believes that you’ll find a Ku’aihelani where porpoises and horses frolic together and all is right with the world.”

  “Do you see that baby? Isn’t he wonderful?” Laughing, Cassie glanced at her. “And I don’t think that’s so bad a dream.”

  “No, it’s beautiful.” She paused. “But you must be wary of what you dream.”

  Cassie’s smile faded as she realized Lani was no longer talking about porpoises. It was bound to come. Lani had kept her silence for the last four weeks, but Cassie had been aware she was uneasy.

  How strange those weeks had been. Persephone. She had scoffed at Jared’s comparison, but sometimes she had felt as if she were balanced between sunlight and darkness. During the day she and Jared almost ignored each other. They seldom spoke, merely nodded in passing like strangers. Even at the supper table they never conversed directly. Only when she entered his cabin at night did the pose of indifference vanish and she was drawn into the dark, carnal world ruled by Jared. She need not worry as long as she kept the two worlds separate. “My dreams are exactly what they were before I boarded this ship.”

  “And all goes well with you?” Lani asked. “He pleases you?”

  Heat scorched her cheeks as she remembered Jared the night before, his head between her thighs and his tongue darting, plunging. She swallowed. “He pleases me.”

  “And I know you please him. When you aren’t looking, he stares at you as if he wants to devour you.”

  Cassie’s glance shifted back to the porpoises. “Isn’t that what we wanted? To make him want to keep me close once we reach England?”