by Mary Martin
He extended a glass to her. "This is excellent wine. And I thought you might like some."
"I would like for you to leave me to my bath."
"Have some wine," he urged.
"Will you leave thenT'
He smiled tantalizingly. "No."
"You stretch your husbandly rights to the limit, sir," Starlin said tersely.
The smile widened. "Aye, and without hesitation, my love. I enjoy looking at you." His eyes smoldered. "You were meant for a man's admiration. Correction—for my admiration."
Starlin clutched the towel around her nakedness. She accepted the offered glass and took a gulp of wine.
"Savor it, Starlin .. . slowly," Rayne cajoled.
Starlin glared at him. "You are makingjest of all this and loving every minute of it, aren't you?"
"I do not jest in the least where you are concerned."
The lazy humor in his tone belied his words, and
Starlin felt extremely uncomfortable beneath that penetrating gaze. In one lithe movement, she was to her feet, and setting the glass of wine on the table, she moved to step out of the tub. He blocked her retreat.
"You haven't finished your wine."
"It's what you want again, Rayne, always what you want. You'll never change."
He answered her with deliberate slowness. "I have never taken anything from you that you were not willing to give me."
Starlin gripped the towel so tightly that her knuckles turned white beneath the skin. "Oh no? And did I give you my jewels which I saw with my own eyes—hidden away in your sea trunk?'
Rayne towered over her naked form, a black scowl on his lean features. He grasped her arm and shook her, sending the combs tumbling from her hair, loosing the thick mass about her shoulders.
"Do you always form your own conclusions without first hearing my side of things?'
She drew back to look at him with lingering suspicion. "It proves all of your words false ones, Rayne. I want no further explanation from you." Even furious with him, she was unable to tear her eyes away from his lips that were close, and appeared so unyielding. Now, Starlin, she found herself thinking, use his desire for you to your advantage. Thanks to his expert tutelage you have the means to escape him.
"I offer no explanation other than whatever I do, is to free us both in the end." His lips were drawn closer to her own, poised inches above her mouth. "I have decided there is only one jewel that is worth obtaining, and keeping."
Starlin was drawn into his arms, the towel slipping unheeded into the bathwater. What was between them, she could not deny. She would use it to survive. Then thinking became impossible as his lips touched hers.
Starlin pressed her hips against him, straining to be as close to him as possible. The entire hard length of him felt wonderful, and she knew without any doubt that he wore nothing beneath the robe. She did not protest when he swept her into his arms and carried her to the huge bed. Laying her gently on the coverlet, he drew the rose panels of silk around the bed before joining her in their private world.
Her raven hair cascaded about them both, ensnaring him in rose-scented bindings, her lips searing him with eager kisses. He felt himself being gently persuaded by stroking fingers to lie back upon the bed and allow her to work her magic upon him. With a sigh of expectation, he stretched out full-length and drew her over him.
Rising up on her knees, Starlin took the initiative, certain of how she wished to please him and intent on leading the way. She untied the sash to his robe and pushed the satin hindrance aside. Her breath caught in her throat just to look upon his lean, muscular form. He was perfect in every way. Leanly muscled and ruggedly male, no woman could ask for a more desirable partner. Dark tawny hair covered his long body, starting at his chest, tapering downward to form a thin line, then darkening when it met the whorl around his thick manhood. Her lips came forward to brush across his chest, nip the taut muscles, tongue the slight saltiness of his skin.
As always when they made love, a sense of belonging drew her ever closer to him. Each knew what brought the other the greatest pleasure and would not hesitate in the least to provide, it. She kissed him everywhere, her tongue flicking, mouth moist and eager, driving him wild for her. His lips reclaimed her sweet mouth, his tongue seeking and enjoying.
She had become a skilled and exciting lover. But instead of letting her take the lead, he grasped her firmly in his arms and tumbled her over onto her back. She began to protest, but he kissed her harder and deeper, and she soon relented. Lifting her hips, he eased inside her with deliberate slowness.
Starlin felt his entry with every nerve she possessed. Slowly ... tantalizingly ... he slid up into her. Their eyes met, a soft groan escaping her as he filled her completely with his hot flesh. Neither of them moved further, just lay joined. Rayne allowed her the time to adjust to him. "Move, sweet," he ordered softly, "set your own pace . . . that's right. . ." he whispered near her ear, inflaming her beyond rational thinking.
Burning with need, Starlin arched her hips against him. His fingers digging into her hips, Rayne felt her draw him deeper into her. She was driving him mad with her movements, and at last he matched her motion. Caressing, kissing, between whispered murmurs holding each other close, they sought to share their feelings in the only way they could. Recklessly and completely, they loved and together reached sublime rapture.
Sometime later, the girl arrived from the village. Rayne was dressed for dinner and smoking a cheroot on the veranda just off the bedroom. Starlin was sleeping soundly. He told the girl to awaken her and see to her toilet, that he would wait for his wife in the parlor.
Less than an hour later Starlin appeared in the parlor looking ravishing in a gown of pale lavender taffeta. Rayne came forward to greet her, his eyes telling her everything.
They shared an intimate supper in the dining room. The smoked fish and wild rice were delicious, and afterwards, they sat outside on the veranda and enjoyed the beautiful evening. Ely and Jamie soon joined them, and Starlin found their company refreshing. She had grown fond of Ely, and thought Jamie a charming companion for him.
"Do you have a house nearby, Ely?" Starlin inquired.
"Yes, but nothing as lovely as this one," he replied, dragging deeply on his cigar.
"He needs someone to look after his place, give it a woman's touch," Rayne intervened with a roguish smile.
Ely squirmed in the wicker chair and avoided meeting Jamie's eyes.
"I've told him that myself at least a dozen times," Jamie chimed in, her blue eyes taking on a hopeful light. "It is a nice house really, just a bit in disorder, that's all."
Ely glared at his brother. "I find it meets my requirements. And just as soon as you have a woman poking around the place she starts fancying it up with frilly things that provide no other purpose beyond gathering dust."
Starlin and Rayne laughed, but Jamie only smirked.
A twinkle in his gray eyes, Ely said to Jamie,
"Someday, my pet, I shall take a wife and settle down with the girl of my dreams."
"I shall believe that when I see it," Jamie stated incredulously.
Starlin and Rayne smiled at each other. It was obvious to both of them that Ely was quite taken with Jamie, and she with him. But love seldom is acknowledged easily, Starlin mused. And for some people, that acknowledgment never comes.
Seemingly from across the sea, a haunting melody suddenly pulsed through the shadows. The foursome grew quiet, the sound of tambourines intermingling with wildly paced violins appeared to charge the very air around them with sensual rhythms.
Starlin had never heard anything like it before. "What in the world is that?' she asked in a hushed voice.
"Gypsy music," Rayne offered solemnly. "A celebration of night."
Jamie hastened to her feet and grasped Ely's hand. "The dancing has begun." She appeared eager for them to follow her. "Come—all of you. They will be dancing in honor of Scorpio's marriage. I heard talk of it earlier."
Rayne caught Starlin's wary eyes. "Do you want to join them?"
"Oh, please say yes," Jamie urged Starlin. "It is really quite exciting. You must see it."
Prompted by Jamie's urging, Ely rose to his feet. "Lead the way, pet. I shall dance with you."
Starlin agreed to go, too, but told them she wished to change into a casual dress.
"You go on with Jamie, Ely," Rayne told his brother.
"We'll be there shortly."
Starlin would never forget her first sight Gypsies. She had followed behind Rayne. ... escorted her along the path sheltered by towering trees out onto the sandy beach. He held her hand within his. She thought of the other times they had danced together. It was a fond remembrance. Whenever they danced, it seemed they could forget their differences and just enjoy the moment, and each other. She stared at the scene before her.
The entire beach was alive with colorfully dressed figures leaping and whirling about the perimeter of a huge bonfire glowing bright orange against the velvet black night. Sea breakers crashing behind the dancers added their own bizarre accompaniment.
Rayne sensed her awe. "I felt the same way the first time I saw them," he said. His eyes roamed over her appreciatively, admiring the off-the-shoulder blouse and flowing red skirt that she wore. He remembered having chosen it with a night such as this one in mind. He could not believe that she was actually here with him like this, eager, appearing unconcerned, her body already swaying to the melody. He smiled challeng-ingly at her. "Can you dance in such a fashion, do you thinkr
Starlin tossed her head, her flowing hair a blue-black cape around pale gold shoulders. "Can you keep up if I do?”
He was already pulling her along with him to join the dancing Gypsies' celebration. Starlin did not hesitate, but followed in carefree abandon. His darkly clad form beckoned her ever closer, lured her with fiery eyes and suggestive movements.
She was mesmerized by the sight of him, the lean muscled strength of his arms reaching out to her, drawing her against him. They danced so closely that she felt as though they were one. His movements became hers, their feet never once falling out of step or losing the beat of the music.
His teeth flashed in his sun-brown face. "I should have know not to underestimate anything about you."
Starlin favored him with a sultry smile. "You would do well to remember it."
Bettina watched their every move from across the bonfire. Knowing that fate had drawn the couple together did not help to lessen the ache inside her. But she knew, too, that soon fate would intervene once more. And then, perhaps there might still be a chance for her.
Ely was waiting for him on the beach later that night. Rayne had seen Starlin back to the house and had immediately left again. He didn't say a word as he joined his brother, but Ely knew how he was feeling. Rayne was a man possessed by two demons: love and revenge. Which of the two was stronger Ely did not know.
"The men are waiting below the cliff. The Tempest has taken on supplies and fresh water. I guess we are as ready as we'll ever be." Ely spoke simply, but his eyes revealed unspoken thoughts of depth. "It's not too late to turn back, Rayne. We can deal with Wells and forget about this vendetta of yours."
Caught firmly within the grip of black, brooding anger, Rayne glared at him. "Suddenly, it's all my vendetta, is it? I won't let Starlin stand in my way. I swore on my honor to avenge the Morgan name. And I shall." He strode off down the shoreline, ignoring his longing for Starlin twisting so painfully inside him.
Ely quickened his pace to catch up to him. "You won't admit how you really feel about her, will you? Because you care about her more than you ever thought possible. And she loves you, very much. If you go to Key West in the frame of mind you're in, you're going to lose something very special."
"We've been all over this before. But I won't rest until I've had my revenge."
"The trouble with you is you've always found it so easy to bend women to your way of thinking," Ely blurted with narrowed eyes. "This one is different. She is as strong as you, every inch your equal, and you cannot stand the thought of Starlin Cambridge having captured your heart when you wanted to hate her so badly."
Rayne whirled about, his fists clenched at his sides. His expression was livid. "Shut up or I swear I'll deck you!"
"Go ahead if you think it will make you feel any better," Ely sneered, yet making certain to keep a goodly distance between them.
They had reached the bluff and were on the winding trail that led to the opening of the cave beneath it. Rayne glanced back over his shoulder.
"We'll have to settle this another time. The men are waiting. We have much to discuss before we sail." He stepped into the midst of his crew and immediately set about explaining the voyage they were about to undertake.
Starlin did not stay at the cottage as Rayne had ordered. After making certain that Rayne was far enough ahead of her not to notice that she was following, she slipped away into the darkness and kept to the shadows. Envisioning Bettina's sultry features, and remembering the way the woman's eyes had followed after him all evening, Starlin began to wonder about that message she had read in Bettina's eyes. Did her husband have women in every seaport? Of course he did. It was the nature of a man like Morgan.
Upon reaching the high bluff overlooking the moonlit shore, she was brought up short by the sound of Rayne's voice. Cautiously she peered over the edge and saw the familiar faces of the crew sitting around a campfire listening to the words of their captain.
Then she saw the Ice Princess riding at anchor out in the small bay and a long figure milling around on the deck. He appeared familiar to her, but was too far away to clearly discern his features. Her attention was drawn back to the scene beneath the bluff by the sound of men's voices raised in discussion. She saw Rayne hold up his hand and the group quieted.
"If all goes as we've planned, men, this will be the last journey of its kind. Tomorrow at dawn, the Tempest will sail for Key West, and the final leg of our quest."
Starlin observed the first mate stand up, indicating that he wished to speak. Rayne nodded at him.
"Something on your mind, Riley?"
"You said that the mayor accepted your help to go after the pirates that have been attacking the salvaging ships and stealing their goods."
"I did."
Riley ran one hand over his bushy red beard, appearing thoughtful.
"Out with it, man," Rayne said impatiently.
"Well, ain't we taking an awful chance, Captain with us doing a bit of that in them waters ourselves?'
"It bears some risks. But you all know that I only seek to put an end to one—the Cambridge salvaging firm. The other attacks on ships in the area have been perpetrated by individuals seeking to place the blame on Scorpio and his crew. As you know, our previous attacks upon the Cambridge ships have done much to mortally wound their entire operation. But we're not through yet." The flickering firelight cast shadows across the harsh planes of his face. "You know of the vow I've made to see the Cambridges pay dearly for the pain they caused my family. Carl Cambridge sought a treasure that rightfully belonged to my mother. Save for her ring that I'm certain he took without her knowledge, and a journal that he compiled, he would never have sought out the treasure. He almost found it. But he disappeared before he could obtain it. He is presumed dead, lost at sea, mayhap a victim of his own greed."
"Or the lady of the galleon," Chevaz intervened. "Many of us have heard the stories of the ghostly apparition of a woman that appears through the mists and leads ships to their destruction on the reefs."
There were murmurs of agreement.
"Mayhap Carl Cambridge met his death in such a way?" Riley posed.
Rayne did not seek to deny this statement. "Since his family claims they have never heard from him again, it could be true. The only thing I seek to do is discover the truth, and in the interim, prevent the vultures from disturbing my ancestors' final resting place. If anyone is entitled to the treasure it should be
my family. Yet, we have chosen to leave it undisturbed. The dowry that my grandmother was bringing with her to the New World should be left where it rests."
"We all agree, Captain," a crewman said. "The area is cursed. Everyone knows of the mysterious occurrences in the Devil's Triangle. Leave be what you can't explain."
Rayne held up his hand, the ring gleaming in the firelight. "The ring I now have back in my possession. It is a clue that no one else has now, save me."
Another crew member spoke out. "You're not entirely certain that this Cambridge fellow is really dead, are you?'
"Perhaps he's not," Rayne said. "It could be he's just waiting until things quiet down again before resuming his search for the galleon. We've all seen the strange occurrences that have taken place here. The spinning of compasses, the lost ships we've sighted that were aimlessly drifting, seemingly with no one on board. Could be Carl Cambridge was one of those who survived such an event, and used it to his benefit. I don't know."
"But seek to find out," Ely said.
"Aye, I do," Rayne said fiercely. "Vengeance has yet to be mine. Soon, it shall be, and then I can live in peace once more." His eyes scanned the group of faithful followers. "You all may rest easier knowing that the Tempest will not attack the other salvors or burn any of their warehouses. We'll concentrate solely on Benton Cambridge." Rayne's words rang with truth, and the men did appear easier.
Unaware that a figure stood in shadow on top the bluff listening to their words, the men continued their open discussion. Much more was said, plans were reconfirmed, the route they would take was discussed, and then, suddenly, the man she'd seen on the deck of the Ice Princess strode into the circle of seam^g. Starlin felt sick to her stomach but could not turn away. Even knowing that she had been callously duped, worse, degraded, could not prompt her to turn away. Absolutely stunned as she stood their in the mist-shrouded darkness and listened to their words, she stared astounded at that figure and cried out softly, "Now it is clear why everyone on Antare knew of our marriage. Oh, Fredrick . . . not you, too."