by Mary Martin
"Yes, of course." Her voice was low. Her eyes caressed the harsh lines of his face, the rigid jaw covered by a dark stubble. Caught by the possessive gleam in those stormy eyes, she whispered, "I have to know Rayne . . . will I be going to your island as your lover, or your prisoner?"
He didn't even blink, but asked quite calmly, "Which would you prefer?"
"I couldn't stand to be confined again," she said with force. "I'll do anything to avoid that."
"Even warm my bed," he said crisply. His gaze was penetrating. Something was visible there. A warning, or some undefinable emotion that Starlin could not interpret? She quickly averted her gaze, staring out to sea. At first, when she caught sight of a tiny speck on the horizon she thought she was imagining it. Looking closer, she knew she had not. It was a ship, barely hoved into view, but definitely there. Its point of destination was uncertain but quickened Starlin's pulse nonetheless.
Rayne's gaze was upon her; he hadn't seen the ship. For some unexplainable reason, Starlin had the sudden urge to turn and kiss him. Just one more time before . . . before I signal to that ship, an inner voice said. She knew she had to do it. She could not stay with him any longer. She was falling more under his spell with each passing day. And if she went to Antare she would never get free of him. She turned to Rayne and handed him her cup.
"May I have more?"
"Certainly." He added teasingly, "You won't jump ship on me while I'm below, will you?'
If he had not turned away at that given time, Starlin knew he would have seen what she was planning in her eyes. But he did, disappearing through the hatch, and leaving her only minutes to put her plan into motion.
Methodically, she removed her cream-colored shawl and rose to her feet. She walked determinedly toward the mainmast. She did not know how to say good-bye. She could not play this game like the master. He had won her heart. Now she must leave him. She reached the rigging and slowly looked upward.
Starlin was not afraid of the perilous climb. She had watched Rayne clamber agilely up the mast above the sea, shim aloft on the windward rigging, and cross tc the leeward without faltering.
Utterly without fear and yet filled with despair. Starlin began the dangerous ascent.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Go away!" she yelled.
"You're going to kill yourself." His voice was gruffly commanding.
Not daring to look down, she continued upward, body moving in fluid motion with the ships. Hand over hand, seventy feet or more above the pitching deck, her only thought was on self-preservation. She grasped one rope, held it tightly while reaching for the other. One hand for yourself, another for the ship, she had heard Rayne repeat often enough.
Ignoring the square openings in the top platform— the lubber's hole for fools—Starlin climbed the ratlines running over the top platform and continued onward on the short out-leaning shrouds to her destination.
Finally she was able to scramble onto the small platform. She noticed the ship on the horizon drawing still nearer. Waving the shawl overhead, the young woman prayed frantically that they would see it. She had no idea whether they were British, Spanish, or American. It didn't matter. She only wanted to escape.
Rayne had seen the approaching ship, still too far away to make out her colors. He knew he could climb the mast and stop Starlin, but it might also prove risky. If she struggled with him at all, she could slip from her precarious perch to the deck below. But if he allowed her to bring that ship in, he was taking a considerable chance. She might have decided it was time to do an awful lot of talking. That was something he couldn't allow. Not now. He was too close.
Grabbing up a two-sectioned spy glass, he raced forward to bound effortlessly up the ratlines. Agile as a cat he climbed, hand over hand until he'd reached a high enough point. Looping his arm around a line, he peered through the glass. A mysterious smile broke the tense lines of his face. The impressive, black brig with fore and aft sails stretched full by the wind was making a good four knots judging by the slight bow wave round her prow. She would be upon them within a short time.
Starlin kept signaling, her face set grim and determined. A flash of light from the ship sent her pulse racing. Her signal was being returned! She chanced a quick look below.
Rayne was waving her down with his hand. He looked terribly fierce, and filled with deadly purpose. She shook her head.
He began climbing upward toward her. Starlin couldn't think what to do then. She hadn't considered this!
He stopped several feet below her.
Starlin kept her eyes on him like a chick watching a hungry hawk.
"Just what do you think you're doing?' He was scowling. "Let's climb down together before you slip and hurt yourself."
"No!" she shrieked over the wind.
His face went dark with fury. He was not accustomed to disobedience in the face of danger. "I warn you, girl, if I have to fight you on this, punishment will follow."
Mutinously Starlin set her jaw. "I'll fight you every inch if you but lay a finger on me." She kicked outward with her foot as he reached upward. She very nearly lost her balance.
Rayne froze.
"Don't move," he said in a low voice meant to calm her. "Stay exactly where you are."
"You too, Morgan!" Starlin lashed back, her slight body swaying in the wind.
"I'll not force you, Starlin. I'm climbing downward and I suggest you do the same."
"I should trust you, Morgan?" she said with contempt. "You'd think nothing of tricking me!"
"I'm going down," he said.
Starlin eyed him skeptically. She watched his quick, agile retreat until he was once more standing on the deck. She glanced once again at the approaching ship. It would be upon them soon. He was watching her. She began her descent.
When her feet were planted firmly on the deck before him, she stared defiantly into his eyes, daring not to breathe, or even blink. He was madder than she'd seen him in a very long time ... since that very first night when he'd come into her life like a whirlwind and turned it upside down.
Hands on his hips, he said softly but tautly. "Do you know what you've done?"
"Yes," she replied without hesitation. "I've gained my freedom from you."
"Have you?" he queried with a hard edge to his words.
"I'm leaving, Rayne, and you won't stop me this time," she said firmly.
Before she had time to react, he yanked her along behind him to sling her roughly against the rail.
"Take a good look out there, my clever wife," he growled low, "and tell me what it is that you see."
Starlin felt her limbs go weak.
"Well, what do you see?' he persisted in a sarcastic voice.
The craft was close enough now for her to see the black piece of silk waving like a proud banner in the breeze.
"A... a ship," she stammered at last. Her eyes darted to meet his.
He was smiling coldly.
"Look closer. What kind of ship?"
Starlin's heart plummeted. "A ... pirate ship."
"And you have brought her to us."
After a moment of chagrin, Starlin said brusquely, "Can we outrun them?"
Rayne threw back his head and laughed. "So—now you wish to sail with me, do you?' He released his grip on her arm. "Perhaps we might barter with them." His eyes glittered wickedly. "Pirates love to dicker—and especially over beautiful women."
Starlin paled.
"You brought in the wrong ship, Starlin," he drawled.
Together they stood at the rail. An eerie hush settled over the ship, the only noise the creak of the rigging and the ever-restless water shifting beneath the hull.
In full view, the brig, black-hulled and sleekly designed, drew ever nearer. Gilt-touched trimming glinted brightly in the sun, a figurehead plunging downward into the waves then thrusting upward in plain view. Starlin stared at it. It was the configuration of a deadly scorpion.
The reality of her situation made her turn p
ale. "Damn you! You tricked us all!"
Rayne turned on her, his voice simmering with bitterness. "And what of you? You knew what you were going to do all along. So don't pretend innocence with me."
"You took that, too, remember," she said. "You've taken everything from me, or tried to. But I will not give you what you desire most. My pride remains intact." Her blazing eyes held his. "Are you going to turn me over to those men?'
His voice was cutting. "I should. Your shrewish tongue is becoming wearisome."
"I think that you have been after something all along," she said. "I've tried not to believe it... but I must now."
Hard jade eyes pierced her.
"And what could you have that I might possibly desire?'
She could not help shivering as he spoke each word with cold, unfeeling contempt, but her eyes stared into his with open hostility.
"The ring," she breathed, glancing down at the bloodred stone on her finger. "I knew ... I just didn't want to face the truth about you."
"You can't begin to know," he cut her off bluntly. "Or you would have run as far from me as possible as soon as you learned my last name was Morgan."
Starlin felt sick at the pit of her stomach. She stood looking up at him and wondered how she could have thought she cared for this cold, unfeeling man. She had sensed all along that he was dangerous—that he was using her, that he was her enemy. The sound of men's voices turned her attention to the ship drawing nearer, almost beside them now.
Men were scurrying over her deck, up the mainmast with effortless ease to knock the wind from the sheets and secure the sails by gaskets. Guns bristled from two tiers. The black flag drew her eyes. The anchor rushed through the haweshole and splashed into the sea. Grappling hooks sailed across the distance of water separating the vessels, men already making ready to swing across to the Ice Princess.
Desperate now, she said quickly, "I'll barter my freedom, Morgan." She slipped the heavy ring off her finger and held it out to him. Take it—you paid a high enough price for it."
Rayne made a swift, reflexive movement that had the ring within his hand before she had time to even blink.
"It must be given in love ... and accepted ... for the secret to unfold," he said.
"How do you know this? Where did you hear it before?' she asked.
"From the one person I truly did love," he responded in a husky voice.
Starlin's breast felt heavy and tears blurred her vision.
"Stop it! Just take the godforsaken thing and get out of my life." She swung about just as the first intruder scrambled over the rail to be followed by several of his scruffy comrades.
"Whatever secret it bears you are all welcome to! I curse the day I came into possession of it." She swung past Rayne's astonished brother Ely, yelling angrily over her shoulder, "You may even give it to that bitch who waits for your return in England, for I no longer give a damn, about you or that ring!"
Ely favored Rayne with a look of total confusion.
"Wherever she is, she brews trouble," he said, grinning. "And here I thought you'd have her tame as a kitten by now. I've heard you boast many times of the women who fairly scrambled over each other to do your bidding."
"Don't goad me, Brother," Rayne growled menacingly. "I am not in the mood at present."
Noting Rayne's scowl and tightly clenched fists, Ely waved the men away. They fell back grumbling, for they had been eager to greet their captain.
"See to loading my brother's possessions," Ely instructed one burly fellow. "All save one, that is."
Starlin lay upon the bunk that she had shared with Rayne in miserable silence. Not very long ago he had lain here with her, loved her, whispered so many things that she had wanted to believe. She was the most desirable woman he had ever known, he'd told her—his dream temptress who had lured him to England's shores.
Liar! Damned liar! Tears streamed down her face.
She heard footsteps over her on the deck retreating, and knew that he was making ready to leave her. She was alone again. She should be happy that they were leaving her behind. She gave no thought to how she'd get home, nor even cared at the moment.
Frustrated anger prompted her to throw his pillow forcefully across the room.
Suddenly, the door burst open. The feathered missile landed with a soft plop before booted feet. Starlin scrambled to a sitting position quickly wiping at her tears with her sleeve.
Rayne stood in the doorway, his eyes blazing emerald fire.
"Are those tears of joy ... or of sorrow?"
His voice was so jeering, as if he despised her.
Starlin held her chin high. "I don't owe you any explanations. I thought you'd be long gone by now."
"I'd forgotten something."
She looked about the tiny cabin, feigning an air of indifference. "Take whatever suits you. I want nothing left here to remind me of—"
Before she had time to finish her sentence, he was beside her, grasping her arm in one agile movement and slinging her upward over his shoulder. Without another word he strode back the way he had come.
"Just what do you think you are doing?" she sputtered. She grasped at any fixed object as he sprinted up through the hatch.
"Claiming what is mine."
He strode purposefully across the deck toward the side rail. Starlin's eyes grew round as saucers. Good lord! He'd grabbed a remaining grappling line and leaped effortlessly onto the edge of the rail!
'Hang on tight."
Those were the last words she heard before she pierced the air with a shrill scream as Rayne swung fluidly across the expanse of open sea. She grasped fistfuls of his billowing shirt, feeling the wind whip through her hair and whistle in her ears. The breeze blurred her vision, but she glimpsed a sparkling flash of blue ... the fleeting swoop of a bird over the water ... before they landed effortlessly on the wide polished deck of the Tempest.
She could only gasp that he release her and was ignored. She found herself bouncing along over his broad shoulder, her stomach lurching and her head still spinning sickly, as he made his way across the main deck. Loud guffaws greeted their arrival. The sound of the men's laughter stung her pride, and she swore with all the gusto of a sailor. Rayne's flat palm immediately swatted her rump in retaliation.
"Show some respect in your captain's presence, or you shall feel my hand again."
Starlin wanted to scream, yet considered his words and thought better of it. She dangled at his mercy, silently promising him every form of retribution.
He bounded down the stairs and through the shadowy parallel gangway toward his cabin. He opened the door and entered. With a backward kick of his boot, he slammed it closed. With several quick strides he reached his bed, and bending one shoulder, dumped her onto the covering of soft furs. She landed in a sprawled heap, her teeth gnashing together.
He stood observing her coolly, breathing easily, as if the arduous trek he'd just undertaken was something he did everyday. Hooking his thumbs negligently in his belt, he stated flatly, "This is going to be your new home for a while. Get used to it. I'll not have you out and roaming about the ship unless you have permission from me." He placed a hand on her shoulder when she attempted to rise. "Listen well, Starlin, for I'll tolerate no disobedience from you."
"And just what will you do if I choose not to listen, Captain Scorpio?' she sneered. "Heave me to the sharks?5
One tawny brow lifted. "I had not thought of the sharks ... it bears consideration, I think."
Starlin's eyes narrowed dangerously, but still he stood unmoving, a mocking gleam in his emerald gaze.
"I will not forget what you have done to me—ever," she said solemnly.
"It did not have to be this way," he told her with a trace of regret in his voice. "You are the one who refuses to give quarter."
"Give quarter!" she spat back, her cheeks rosy with anger and contempt. "You've been using me no better than a whore! Nothing is sacred to you . . . not even marriage vows."
; He towered over her. "Whore?' he snarled. "Is that how you think I treated you?' He stared at her, then in one lightning-quick move, grabbed hold of the neckline of her blouse and with a vicious jerk, ripped it from top to bottom.
Starlin screamed in furious indignation and clawed out at him. He easily caught her wrist in one hand. She struggled in vain. A bubble of a sob rose in her throat.
"Now you know exactly how it feels for me to treat you like a whore," he growled, thrusting her away from him with disgust.
Starlin collapsed back on the bed arms and legs into her body.
"Damn you," she heard him sigh raggedly. "Why do you always bring out the worst in me? Do you purposely goad me to it... Aye, I think so. You push everyone beyond their limit, even yourself."
She wanted to tell him that she could not play any more games, that she was tired of fighting him and herself. Suddenly he regained his cool composure and was viewing her as if she were merely his chattel to dispose of however he saw fit.
"You are to do exactly as I tell you every second that you are here," he commanded in a steel-edged voice. "And I swear to you, if you defy me before my men I'll punish you in a way that will have you wishing you had not." He spun about and strode to the door.
Starlin was so overwhelmed with misery and a need to strike back that she gave no thought to what she was doing. She scrambled to grasp up the nearest object, the little music box next to the bed, and threw it at him.
It missed the back of his head by inches, smashing against the wall in front of him to crash to the floor, the melody wafting sickly through the sudden silence.
Rayne stared down at the shattered music box, the dancers severed in two, and felt as if he were foreknowing something of his own future. His upper lip curled into a sneer.
"Nothing of mine warrants your respect, does it, Starlin?" After a moment's pause he opened the door and was gone without another word.
Starlin lay too exhausted to even think. She closed her eyes against the bright sun streaming through the glassed casement windows. With a small cry she turned over to bury her face in the pillow, small fists beating angrily into the mattress on either side of her.