One Winter Knight

by Townsend, Lindsay

  His mouth hardened into a thin line and he stood. “I have tried to be gentle with ye, lass. Ye leave me nae choice.” He grabbed his shirt and headed for the door, turning around just as he opened it. “Ye’ll have naught to eat until ye agree to feed me the way I ask.” With that, he stepped out onto the deck, slamming the door behind him.

  Kaitlin stared at the closed door for a moment before her temper took over. She grasped the small brass water pitcher by the bed and hurled it at the door where it made a satisfying smack.

  “Take that, my lord swine,” she said.

  ****

  The ships were gaining on them. The wind nearly died as they entered the English Channel the second day, and by the time they reached Gibraltar on the third, the three ships could easily be seen without the use of the telescope.

  Schooners, Adair thought as he relieved the helmsman. At least they wouldn’t be heavily armed if it came to a battle at sea. Still, he’d rather get this sordid mess over without shots being fired.

  The navigator squinted as a he took a sun sight with the sextant and then at the cloudbank on the horizon. “On course, Captain, but the glass in the barometer be falling. These winter storms come up fast.” He looked behind him. “Too bad my mother-in-law isn’t on this trip.”

  Adair looked at him, puzzled. “Yer mother-in-law?”

  “Aye,” the seaman grinned. “She could nag some wind into our sails.”

  Adair laughed. “Mayhap I should bring Kaitlin on deck. For certes, she has nae end of foul words to use on me.”

  It was true. He’d unlocked her cabin and brought her supper that first night, which she refused to eat unless he let her walk on deck. He’d said no, and she’d released a string of invectives that would have made any of his sailors proud. How a lady had heard those words, let alone knew how to use them, he couldn’t understand. But know them, she did.

  Then, it got worse. His “lesson” for that night was another attempt at the artful way the women in a harem learned to feed the sultan—one grape at a time, a piece of bread sopped in dripping honey—and she had sneered. There was no way she was going to feed a grown man as though he were a baby, she said. The lesson had not gone well and he’d left her alone the second night, trying to decide what his true goal was.

  Adair looked up at the sky. The breeze was freshening, clocking around, the clouds building and becoming darker. A storm brewed both on the water and in his mind.

  The idea of handing Kaitlin over to the sultan was not setting well with him. Even the idea of abducting her was niggling at him. It was nearly Christmas, after all. A time for families to be together…and hers would be frantic. Still, he had sworn an oath—and his sister needed that gold as a dowry if she were ever to get a decent husband now that her virginity had been taken.

  Yet, he didn’t want Kaitlin hurt. As much as he admired women who thought independently, the aging sultan would not take well to her strong will and, for certes, not her temper. The infidel would break her spirit, if not her body. Adair winced, thinking of her lovely, smooth back covered in bloody welts. There was only one thing he could do and he wished he didn’t have to do it. He must teach her how to obey a man.

  ****

  Kaitlin fumed as she stomped back and forth in the small cabin. No one had brought her food for three days, only water, and the chamber pot reeked. She felt filthy, not having been able to cleanse herself in that time.

  She sank down weakly on the bed. Did he mean to starve her? How attractive would she be emaciated? She stifled a giggle. No man, not even a shriveled-up old one, would want a haggard woman who smelled badly and had matted hair like a rat's nest. Would he? The giggle ended on a sob. She would just be a commodity. They were probably less than a day from Constantinople. She would have to do something soon.

  She turned as the sound of the door being unlocked and nearly fainted as the aroma of still-warm bread drifted toward her. And succulent fish, as well. Her stomach growled its agony.

  Adair set the tray down on the dresser. As she brushed past him toward the food he wrinkled his nose slightly, but Kaitlin was too hungry to care if she stank. It was his fault, anyway.

  “Just a moment, lass.” His hand on her arm stayed her from reaching the bread. “A concubine never eats before the sultan has had his fill.”

  She stared at him. So, it was back to that. She tossed her head. “First, you starve me, and now you are going to torture me by withholding that delectable-smelling food?”

  “Ach, lass,” he said gently, “doona fight me. Feed me a wee bite as I asked ye before and the rest is yours.”

  She could have sworn there was pity in his eyes, but his expression remained neutral. She warred with herself, not wanting to give in. Her stomach growled again menacingly. What did it matter if she fed him? It didn’t mean she’d feed the sultan. She wasn’t even going to meet the sultan. “All right,” she groused and tore off a hunk of bread and handed it to him. “There. You are fed.”

  He shook his head. “A small piece, please.”

  Kaitlin took a deep breath and held unto her temper. She’d let him have a piece of her mind…right after she’d eaten. Elaborately, she pulled a bit of bread off the end.

  “Dip it in the honey,” he said.

  She gritted her teeth. He was pushing her limits. She resisted the urge to throw the pot of honey at him and lifted the lid off the crock. Dipping the bread, she held it up for him to take.

  “Feed it to me.”

  Enough was enough. Kaitlin jammed the piece into his mouth, wishing she could shove it down his throat.

  He spit it out. “Not like that, lass. Like a lover might. Do it again.”

  She could have wept in frustration. The fish was getting cold while he was playing this asinine game. As if she would ever be tamed to do a sultan’s bidding. She narrowed her eyes and gave him the look that would have stopped any of her boisterous brothers in their tracks.

  He just smiled. “I’m waiting.”

  Damn the man. Sorry, Mama. No, I’m not. Kaitlin sighed and wished mightily she had a dirk. Reluctantly, she broke off another piece of bread and lathered it in honey. For a moment, she considered popping into her own mouth out of defiance, but good judgment prevailed. He’d probably take the food away, and her mouth was watering so much, she was practically drooling.

  She forced herself to smile sweetly as she raised the bread to his lips. “For you. lover.”

  Adair accepted the bread, his golden eyes burning into hers as he sucked her fingers into his mouth.

  The hot, wet softness of his tongue licking her fingers nearly overcame her. How could one man exude so much sensuality? She felt her arm begin to shake, a tremor that quickly pulsed down to her groin. She moaned slightly.

  He reached for the wooden knife and fork and sliced a piece of fish from the platter. “My turn,” he said as he lifted the fork to her mouth.

  She reached to take it from him, but he shook his head. “I’m going to show ye what the sultan would expect. ’Twill be wise of ye to learn, lass. Come sit.” He led her to the table and proceeded to feed her, one bite at a time, wiping crumbs from her lips lightly, encouraging her to lick the honey from his fingers as he fed her bread. The sensation of his fingers in her mouth, teasing her, nearly made her forgive him. Almost.

  A knock on the door brought her out of her reverie. Adair opened it and nodded to the yeomen who were carrying steaming buckets of water. Soon, the wooden tub in the corner of the room was filled. A bath. Heavenly. She was sated with food, and soon she would be clean.

  Adair locked the door after the men left and began unbuttoning his shirt.

  “What do you think you are doing?” Kaitlin asked.

  “Getting undressed,” he answered affably. “Ye’re going to give me a bath. ’Tis something all concubines are skilled at.”

  The arrogance of the man! She was not a concubine. She wasn’t about to bathe anyone. She was the one in need of a bath. Was she sure she didn’t wan
t to see him naked? She tried to ignore the siren in her head, but it was persistent. She recalled her alternative plan. It might still work.

  His muscles rippled as he removed his shirt, exposing a hard chest dusted lightly with curls of dark hair that descended past the twin ropes of muscle across his stomach and disappeared into his trews. He removed his boots and socks and came to stand before her, reaching for her hand and placing in on his belt buckle, his wolf gaze holding hers.

  She trembled. This close, the scent of him was intoxicating. Spicy, soap and leather… Wait, soap? She sniffed. He was clean. He didn’t need a bath. She felt his hand over hers, gently helping her undo the laces to his trews. And then, as he slipped them lower, she felt it. Dear God. It felt as hard and thick and long as a cudgel! Dare she sneak a peek? She did. And then quickly averted her eyes, her face flaming.

  Adair laughed. “Ach, lass. ’Tis all right to look. Even better to feel.” Slowly, he moved her hand along the granite shaft.

  Kaitlin gasped. His skin was soft, like velvet over steel. She knew enough about animal husbandry to know where this appendage was supposed to go. It would never fit. The muse inside her head laughed at her. Well, it wouldn’t fit. The alternative plan wasn’t such a good idea, after all.

  She withdrew her hand shakily. “If it is a bath you want, you best get in the tub.”

  For an answer, he began to undo the buttons of her shirt. “Ye will be joining me.”

  “I will not.” She clutched at her shirt.

  He tugged her hands away. “Ye will. ’Tis my wish.”

  “Well, ’tis my wish that ye leave and let me have my bath in peace.” Her voice mocked his burr. Yes. Leave. No. Stay. I want…no, I do not…she couldn’t think straight with his hands sliding seductively along her shoulders, edging the shirt off.

  He stopped in mid-motion and arched an eyebrow. “Lassie, I am teaching you the ways of a concubine for your own safety. Ye must obey Ali Stafa or things will nae go well for ye inside the harem.”

  Her kindling passion blazed into full flaming anger. She forgot all about alternative plans. If he thought she would actually touch a withered old man, she’d set the record straight. She’d show him what she would do. Kaitlin swung at him.

  He caught her arm and she found herself tossed on the bed, arms over her head, wrists clasped in one of his hands while he slid her trews down with the other. Exposed, she struggled to turn from him, but he pressed his body firmly on top of her, pinning her to the bed.

  She felt his erection jutting against her belly and then his mouth was on hers, hard and demanding, his tongue seeking entrance. Her deceitful lips parted of their own accord, her tongue met his in a clashing of wills to dominate the other. And then, he moved down to her breast, lips suddenly gentle as he began to suckle. Kaitlin felt her anger melting like butter in a hot pan. A different fire coursed through her veins, wracking her body with torrid fervor. The whole world lurched wildly as she writhed beneath him.

  And lurched again. Dinner dishes went flying off the dresser as the frigate heeled sharply to starboard, righted herself, and then tilted again. Water splashed over the tub and spread over the hard-planked floor.

  “Damn!” Adair flung himself off the bed, reaching for his trews, even as they heard the boatswain’s whistle for the crew to man their stations. “That storm’s hit harder and faster than I thought.” He pulled on his boots and grabbed his shirt. He opened the door and the wind and rain gushed in. “Ye stay put. Hang on the bedpost. A frigate’s never rolled, but we may breach if we canna get some of those sails down fast.” With that, he was gone.

  He’d forgotten to lock the door.

  ****

  Kaitlin dressed quickly and staggered to the door. She opened it cautiously, only to have the gale-force wind rip it from her hands. Her hair whipped loose around her head, stinging her cheeks even as the slashing, side-driven rain nearly blinded her.

  She inched her way along the deck, holding unto the bulkhead, well away from the rail. Sailors were shouting and cursing as they struggled with the huge square-rigged sails. One, standing on a yardarm, lost his balance and fell. Kaitlin’s hand flew up to her mouth, and then she breathed a sigh of relief as he dangled from a safety rope. The man swung himself toward the mast and wrapped arms and legs around it, much like a bear climbing a tree. She watched incredulously as he maneuvered his way back to a standing position and yanked the sail down.

  The ship still heeled, but not nearly so much with half the canvas down. They were in a quartering sea, and as Kaitlin looked to the stern, she saw the white foam blowing off crests of waves that threatened to swamp the poop deck.

  Just her luck. She had finally escaped the confines of the cabin, but the Mediterranean was too rough even to try getting a lifeboat down. There was not any way she could swim in such conditions. In the inky darkness of night, she had no idea of how far away they were from land. Her only hope lay in finding a place to hide until dawn broke and the seas calmed. Then, she could get a bearing. The one thing she was certain of was that she would not be on this ship when it docked in Constantinople.

  She looked about for a place to hide. Unfortunately, Adair kept a tidy ship. There were no loose boxes or barrels anywhere on deck and she couldn’t very well go to the crews’ quarters. She tried the door that led down to the cargo hold and found it locked. There was no place to hide beneath the benches below decks that the rowers used. The lifeboats? Emergency supplies stayed in them. Even if she couldn’t lower one right now, perhaps she could hide under one of the tarps. Worth a try, and at least, she’d be ready when the sea calmed and the winds laid.

  Carefully, she made her way across the sloping deck and to the rail from which a lifeboat hung, protected against damaging the hull by huge fenders. It would be a drop of about four feet, but the ship had steadied herself and Kaitlin cautiously lifted one leg over, hands clenching the rail as she straddled it. The ship lurched and she nearly lost her grip, the rain making the oiled teak slick. She felt her heart pounding and waited until she could breathe normally again. Slowly, she brought her other leg over until she was sitting on top of the rail. Now all she had to do was give herself a little push…

  “Kaitlin! No!” Adair rounded a corner and rushed toward her just as the frigate caught a huge swell, lifting her bow high, and then falling into the trough.

  With a scream, Kaitlin pitched headlong into the churning sea.

  Chapter Four

  “Man overboard!” Adair yelled into the howling wind, but had no idea if anyone would hear him. Frantically, he hoisted himself into the lifeboat and began throwing anything that would float overboard. He strained to make out a form in the swirling water or to hear a cry for help, but the wind deafened any other sound. Then he turned his attention to releasing the pulleys that would lower the boat into the angry sea. He had no idea if Kaitlin could swim, but in these conditions, he’d have a hard time staying afloat himself. The rain still fell in sharp sheets, and they were still a great distance from shore. It was a precaution he always took, especially at night. And he had no way of knowing how far off course they’d been blown by the squalls.

  He gave a shrill blast on his captain’s whistle and was relieved when the boatswain’s head appeared, looking down at him over the rail. “Reef down and come about,” he called as the lifeboat splashed down. “Keep circling until I return.”

  “Aye, Captain,” the man answered, and Adair could hear him shouting orders to the helmsman and then to the other sailors to get more lifeboats launched.

  “Ah, Kaitlin, how could ye be so foolish?” Adair bit back the words. It was his fault she was in peril. Had he not been so set on avenging his sister’s rape, he would never have considered selling any woman into sexual slavery, let alone Kaitlin.

  He should have known he’d never be able to do it. Depriving her of food for three days had wrenched his gut, and he hadn’t eaten anything himself after the first day. Those “lessons” had never been for the sul
tan; they’d been for him. Adair knew that now. How he’d enjoyed feeding her slowly, watching her lips take the food, sucking on her fingers afterward. And he’d had strategies planned for a long, slow, sensual bath tonight. But when she tried to slap him, he’d lost control and given in to his impulses. And she had reacted like he hoped she would. All feminine. All woman. She had wanted him. He felt it. If that damn storm hadn’t hit, they’d be safe and warm in his bed, and he’d be giving her pleasure, causing that beautiful body to shudder in delight all night long. Sweet Kaitlin. Stubborn, hot-tempered, independent Kaitlin. He loved her. A pity he didn’t realize it until now—when it may be too late.

  Adair strained to hear about the still-shrieking wind. All he could hear was the howling in the loose rigging as the frigate lumbered through the confused waves. He made out several more lifeboats now, but no sign of a swimming form.

  “Ah, Saint Brighid,” he prayed, “doona let me lose her. She doona deserve to die.”

  The wind stilled suddenly, as if the saint had indeed answered him. And then, he heard it. A distant cry for help, somewhere astern of him. He dipped the oar deeply into the water, spinning the small boat around and stroked furiously to where Kaitlin was clinging precariously to life.

  ****

  “Help!” Kaitlin cried out, her throat burning and hoarse from the seawater she had swallowed. She knew she should conserve her energy, but logic was not winning over her fear. She had managed to catch a small wooden cover from a crate that Adair had thrown overboard. She could make little headway because of the bulkiness of it, but it was keeping her afloat, and she didn’t dare let go. The swells were still too strong to attempt swimming.

  Dimly, she could make out the shadow-shape of the big frigate as it turned slowly. Hopefully, that meant they knew she was overboard. She thought she had heard Adair calling to her, but the boat creaked and groaned so loudly against the force of the waves that she wasn’t sure. If she could just hang on… Her arms were tired, and she tried to pull her body more over the wood, but she was getting weak. Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a little while…