by Bobbi Smith
"I shall be looking forward to 'later.'" He gave her an easy, confident smile.
Catherine played her part to the hilt, as she had during the months of her marriage, and Jon, besotted as he was, never doubted her for a moment. When they parted after the waltz, he returned to his business discussion with his friends and Catherine excused herself, pleading the need for a brief respite.
Only one lamp was alight in the study, and Catherine strategically turned it down until deep, concealing shadows enveloped the room. Pulling the drapes at the two floor-to-ceiling windows, she then reclined on the full-length overstuffed sofa to await Roland's arrival.
Roland had no trouble breaking away from Susan, and he strode down the hall casually, entering the study unobserved. His passion for Catherine being fierce as ever, he could hardly wait to pierce the sweet tightness of her. Closing the door behind him, he glanced about the darkened room.
"Cat?" He said her name softly; then he heard her delicious gurgle of laughter coming from the direction of the sofa.
"Yes, darling? I told Jon that I needed to rest for a moment. Would you like to join me?" She sat up slowly, her expression inviting.
"I'll join you," he said in a low voice, as he soundlessly locked the study door. "But I guarantee you won't be getting any rest."
She immediately rose and, with eager fingers, began to strip, not wanting to risk ruining her gown. Within seconds, she stood before Roland clad only in a sheer, strapless chemise.
As Roland had watched Catherine disrobe, he'd felt the familiar rise of his desire. The taut peaks of her full breasts teased the gossamer fabric of the garment and seemed to beg for his caress. The darkness of her feminine delta was a vague outline beneath the sensuous material.
"As always, I find you more beautiful without all the trappings of femininity," Roland growled, and he started to unbutton his shirtfront when she stopped him.
"No, don't. I want you to make love to me with your clothes on." She came to him and wrapped her arms about his neck, rubbing herself sinuously against him. "It feels so much more . . . stolen, that way."
"You steal nothing from me. I give it to you freely," Roland told her, kissing her passionately.
Catherine responded fully, excited by the danger in their coupling. Her hands were never still as she stroked him expertly through his clothes, all the while moving restlessly against his hardness. Aware that time was of the essence, Roland led her to the sofa and pushed her gently down upon its welcoming softness. Kneeling beside her, he freed her breasts and kissed them greedily. The touch of his mouth sent a shaft of desire through her, and she arched in frenzied abandon as his hand slipped between her thighs to explore and stimulate. He brought her to full arousal easily, knowing just how to please her, and when she could wait no longer for their joining, Roland released himself from his pants and mounted her. The faint sound of muffled voices in the hall only intensified their feverish mating, and ecstasy claimed them quickly. Roland wanted to keep Catherine in his arms forever, but he knew that they could be found out at any moment.
"Darling . . ." he whispered.
"I know. We have to get back, but Roland . . ."—there was anguish in her voice—"I love you so."
"And I you." His mouth sought hers again in a heated kiss before he lifted himself from her. He quickly straightened his clothing and then helped her to her feet. "Shall I help you?"
"Please." She sighed, regretting their return to the ball. When Roland had finished fastening her gown for her, he turned her to face him and slid his hand within the bodice.
"This is what I wanted to do to you while we were waltzing," he said as he lifted her breast from the restrictive bodice and kissed the taut nipple. "You are so enticing," he murmured against her tender flesh.
Then Catherine gasped as his teeth tugged painfully at the throbbing peak. "You're hurting me!" she cried softly, wanting to pull away, yet somehow finding enjoyment in the pain.
"I want you to think of me when you're dancing with your husband," he told her punishingly.
"I think of you always," Catherine said with a small sob as her knees weakened and she swayed against him.
Roland slipped a supporting arm about her waist. "Do you want me again, Cat?" he asked as he finally stopped his tormented play and covered her sore breast.
"Oh, Roland . . ." Her body was on fire with desire for him.
He chuckled deeply and released her. "Good." He strode toward the door then, and she watched him through a passion-filled haze.
"Roland?"
"Monday afternoon, dear, while your husband is at his office," he said curtly, and unlocking the door, he was gone.
Trembling from the power of her need, she sat back weakly on the sofa, trying to regain control. She was certain that her cheeks were flushed and she hoped Roland had left no telltale marks on her body. As excited as she was, she knew she would entice Jon to her bed just as soon as the guests took their leave.
When she finally felt composed, Catherine stood, and smoothing her skirt, she left the study only to come face to face with Jon and Roland in the hall.
"Darling." Her husband greeted her easily, giving her a quick, adoring kiss. "Did you manage to get a bit of rest?"
"Yes. Those few minutes in the study were just what I needed," she reassured him without so much as a glance at Roland.
"Good, because our guests seem to have no inclination to leave and this might turn out to be a long night."
Catherine gave him her brightest smile. "But, Jon," she drawled, "that's exactly why we entertain."
"I know, love, but when you're looking so irresistible it's difficult for me to remember that I invited everyone here."
She laughed delightedly. "I'll see you later, darling. Roland." She nodded at him with cool cordiality as she started off down the hall.
The two men, drinks in hand, continued on into the study, and after turning up the lamp, they sat opposite each other in comfortable wing chairs.
"So, tell me, Roland, what is it you wanted to discuss with me tonight?" Jon asked as he took a drink of his bourbon.
"I have a proposition for you."
"Oh? Regarding what?"
Roland leaned forward, intent on what he was about to say. "Jon, I want to buy into Williams Shipping."
"What?" Jon was astonished. Their dealings were very profitable as they stood, and he couldn't imagine why the other man would want to change the situation. "Why?"
"I feel that the company needs to expand to keep up with the times, and I can provide you with the capital you need to enlarge your fleet and thereby turn a bigger profit," he explained logically.
Jon didn't even bother to consider his offer. Standing, he strode to a window and threw back the drape to stare out at the night. "I'm sorry, Roland, but the answer is no."
"Now it's my turn to ask. Why not?" By forcing the issue, Roland hoped to catch the younger man at a disadvantage.
Sighing, Jon answered, "It's a family operation, Roland. It always has been and it always will be. Someday, I hope to have a son to carry it on, just as Mitch and I did for our father."
"But, Jon," Stuart argued. "This is a heavy responsibility for one man to handle."
"Mitch did it and I can do it."
"And you are doing an admirable job with what you've got, but why not expand? The time is right. The China trade is just beginning to boom. There are millions to be made in it."
"And we'll make our share," Jon informed him levelly.
"But we could dominate the market. Don't you realize what an opportunity we have here?"
"I do, but I have no intention of selling any part of Williams Shipping. I'm sorry, Roland. That's my final answer."
Roland gritted his teeth in exasperation. "Well, just remember that the offer is there, should you decide to take me up on it."
"I certainly will."
It was only a short time later when Roland cornered Alan in the ballroom.
"We need to talk," Roland
declared.
"What is it? Did you meet with Jon?" Alan was eagerly awaiting the news.
"Yes, I met with Jon, but he refuses to sell any part of the company." Roland was quite irritated.
"What do we do now?"
"We definitely don't panic. Just make damn sure that the merchandise is out of the warehouse as fast as possible. It certainly wouldn't do for him to discover that we're using his boats to import nubile Chinese girls to work in the cribs."
"He might enjoy participating in our endeavor." Alan smiled thinly.
"I doubt it. If anything, he'd inform the authorities and start an investigation that could ruin us."
Alan nodded, his mood serious. "We don't want to chance that. I'll do my best, and if he comes snooping around, I'll give him the guided tour myself."
"Good thought. Keep me informed." Roland paused thoughtfully. "And, if there is any way I can possibly arrange it, I'm going to have a controlling interest in Williams Shipping by the end of the year."
Catherine had been mingling with her guests, accepting their congratulations on another outstanding ball, when she spotted Roland and Alan on the far side of the ballroom. Excusing herself, she made her way to them.
"Good evening, Alan. Roland, I believe this is our dance."
"How could I have forgotten?" He immediately accepted her offer. "Alan, I'll speak with you later."
He escorted Catherine onto the floor, where they blended with the other dancers.
"How did your private talk with Jon go?" she asked, curious as to the nature of their conversation.
"Not well. Not well at all," he answered. "I think I may need your help."
"With what?" She was intrigued.
He gave her a measured look. "I want Williams Shipping."
"You what?" She was stunned.
"I want to buy Jon out. I've got the money, but he's refused to sell. He wouldn't even offer me an interest in it."
Catherine didn't respond as he went on.
"I want you to try to convince him that the company needs to expand. Do it subtly, of course. We wouldn't want him to suspect that I'd coached you."
"I'll do my best, but I don't guarantee I'll have any influence. Lately, he's become more sure of himself and more determined to be in charge."
"He is becoming more like his brother every day. That's why I have to keep one step ahead of him. Gaining control of the company is the only way I can guarantee that my business deals will continue to be as profitable as they have been in the past."
"Don't worry, Roland. You always win."
"This time, my darling, I hope you're right."
Chapter 23
Espri gazed at herself in the mirror with disbelieving eyes. Was this beautiful woman really her?
"Mildred"—she turned to her friend, smiling bewilderedly—"I can't believe it."
"I told you how lovely you were," Mildred told her approvingly. "This style suits you perfectly." She hurried to adjust the skirt of the gown they had spent the past two weeks making. "And the color."
"Do you really think so?" Espri stared at her reflection again, this time frowning as she searched for flaws in her appearance, but there were none. The rose silk gown fit her superbly in a demure yet enticing manner, and Mildred had arranged her hair in an upswept style that emphasized the sparkling beauty of her dark eyes and drew attention to the slender arch of her throat.
"I know so, and this is the perfect night to wear it, don't you think? What with the news the doctor just gave you—"
"I am so glad Dr. Canfield finally said I'm completely recovered." Espri flushed excitedly. The last six weeks of enforced inactivity had been very difficult for her to bear.
"I'm sure Mitch will be glad too," Mildred teased good-naturedly. "Have you told him what the doctor said yet?"
"No, not yet."
"Well, why not?"
Espri looked nervous. "I've been waiting for the right moment, I suppose."
"Oh? I've always heard that good news is always welcome." The older woman smiled and then let the smile fade as another thought occurred to her. "Or haven't you decided what you're going to do about your marriage?"
"Well, I think I've decided, but—"
"Have you admitted your feelings to him?"
"I've been afraid," Espri offered lamely.
Mildred nodded sagely. "It's time you told him, Espri. He's been so patient and giving these last long weeks, and with little encouragement from you, I might add."
"I know."
"Believe me, if he didn't love you, he would have tired of the game by now, guilt or no guilt."
Espri nodded her head in agreement. "I know you're right, Mildred. I do still love him and I think perhaps tonight is the time to tell him, maybe even to show him. It's been so long since we've been close." She sighed wistfully.
"Let's have dinner together in the captain's cabin, shall we? There's more room there and you can show off your dress to a better advantage."
"I'd like that. Thank you."
Mitch was tired and his nerves were on edge as he headed back to his stateroom later that day. It had been weeks since he'd gotten a good night's sleep, and the thought of another night of tossing at Espri's side positively unnerved him. Didn't she know what she was doing to him? Didn't she know how much he wanted her and the price he was paying for holding himself back? He laughed mirthlessly to himself as he realized the answer. Though she was very much a woman, Espri was not knowledgeable in the ways of coyness or coquetry. Any enticements he imagined she was using were, no doubt, just imagined.
She had given little indication that she was warming to him over the weeks. Although she had invited him back to the cabin for their evening meal, there had been no additional intimacy between them. Every morning and every evening they would kiss at his instigation, but that was as far as it went. The situation was taking a toll on him.
Mitch wanted Espri more than he'd ever wanted another woman. He had not practiced celibacy, not since he'd discovered the joys of female companionship in his much younger years, and to try to avoid intimacy with his wife while he was sleeping in the same bed with her every night was becoming unbearable.
Somehow, very soon, they were going to have to come to an understanding, for he knew he couldn't go on this way for the rest of the voyage. His desire for her was too great to be denied much longer.
Espri was standing before the small washstand mirror when he came into the stateroom, and he did a double take when he saw her.
"Espri?" He gave her a quixotic smile. "Why are you all dressed up? Shouldn't you be resting?"
"I'm dressed up because we're having dinner with Mildred and the captain," she told him, turning away from the mirror to come stand before him. "Well, what do you think? Do you like it?"
Mitch surveyed the attractive gown that was tastefully revealing. "Yes, I like it. You look marvelous. Is this the dress that you and Mildred have been working on all week?"
She nodded. "We finished just in time for the celebration."
"Celebration?" He frowned good-naturedly. "Why is it I have the feeling that I've missed something here?"
"Because you have." She laughed lightly. "I spoke with Dr. Canfield today, and he feels that I've made a complete recovery."
"That's wonderful." He swept her into his arms and hugged her excitedly. "Why didn't you come and tell me right away?"
"I thought it would be nicer to tell you here, in private."
"Well, it doesn't matter when you told me; all that matters is that you're well." He released her when he realized how unkempt he was.
"Let me wash and change. What time is Mildred expecting us?"
"In about half an hour, so you've got plenty of time."
"Good." He took another prideful look at her and then kissed her softly. "I'm so glad that you're recovered."
"So am I," she said softly, her eyes dark with emotion.
"Isn't Espri's news wonderful, Mitch?" Mildred asked as they lingered cont
entedly at the dinner table.
"Yes," he answered, his gaze warm as he looked at his wife, who was sitting by his side. "I'm very thankful that everything has worked out so well. I'll always regret the loss of our child, but perhaps in the future we'll be able to have more children."
Espri met his eyes, her expression guarded. Mitch sounded sincere, and she knew on this night she would find out whether he was.
"I always wanted children, but we weren't blessed," Mildred admitted a trifle sadly.
"You were blessed with each other," Espri put in, knowing the depth of the love the captain and Mildred shared.
"That's true," she replied, and she and her husband smiled tenderly at one another. "And so are you."
Beneath the table, Mitch boldly took Espri's hand from her lap and brought it to his knee. "That we are," he agreed, heartened when she didn't try to withdraw from his loving grasp.
It was almost an hour later when Mitch and Espri started back to their cabin, he attentively guiding her with a comforting hand at her waist.
"Would you like to go out on deck for a while?" he suggested, knowing the beauty of the night and hoping to woo her more gently beneath the stars.
"I'd love to, thank you."
Twinkling, diamondlike stars encrusted the darkened heavens and a golden wedge of a moon smiled down on them as they strode across the deck of the Providence to pause at the railing.
"It feels so wonderful to be moving about again." Espri sighed contentedly.
"I know how hard it's been for you," he agreed. "Being on a boat is confining enough, but to be forced to remain in a cabin in bed—well, I'm sorry it ever happened to you."
"Mitch?" she asked quickly before she lost her nerve.
He looked down at her questioningly.
"Did you mean what you said about our baby? Are you really sorry I lost it?"
"God, Espri," he growled, pulling her to him. "How can you ask?"
"I have to hear it from you. I have to know. Did you really want our baby?" She pushed free of his arms.
"I wanted that baby very much. It was a part of you and of me," he told her solemnly. "Why is this so important to you now?"
