The swells grew larger and larger, a strong gust of wind blowing the ship suddenly leeward, caused her to stumble against the Captain. Grateful he had kept her from falling, she looked up to thank him and felt the intensity of his gaze. The sudden contact of his body with hers startled her. Her hands lingered on his firmly muscled chest. His arms felt like iron bands as he steadied her. This was the first time she had felt a man's embrace since her husband died two years before ... and it felt most pleasant. But because she was a lady, she backed away from him, trying to ignore the sensations awakened by his touch.
“First Mate, see to the helm,” Captain Ramos ordered, “I will escort Signora Vincenza to her quarters."
Without further incident, she allowed the Captain to assist her to her cabin. His manners perfect, he bowed over her hand and offered, “May I send dinner to you, Signora?"
“Grazzi, but no, I am afraid I will not be able to eat."
The Captain smiled and bowed again. “Then Signora, please excuse me. I must attend to my ship."
“Of course, Captain."
Closing the door, she leaned against it, closing her eyes in contemplation, remembering the first time a man had looked at her with passion. Twenty years earlier, after quitting the stage, she had entered her dressing room, removed her mask, laying it with great care on the dressing table. It was a superb specimen of the whitest leather. She had been told it came from the hide of the last unicorn, but of course she had no faith in myths. She traced her fingers around the gold outlining the eyes and finely arched brows. The feather trimming the mask was still colorful and full. She had no idea of its true history, but she had protected it, ever since her dresser Maria had unearthed it from storage.
A new face appeared in the mirror among those who thronged into her dressing room that night. Soft brown eyes watched her from a face that appeared kind as well as handsome. She had not been able to break away from his piercing gaze, though she had tried.
Maria entered, abruptly scattering the other admirers. “Signorina, do you want me to make him leave?” The older woman placed her hands on her hips and frowned at the newcomer, ready to do the primadonna's bidding.
“No, you may leave us, Maria."
Maria sighed. “As you wish, Signorina.” The wardrobe mistress withdrew, casting repeated glances over her shoulder.
Later that evening, she had married the stranger in the mirror and never looked back until now. For two years after her husband's death she had mourned him.
A sudden jarring of the ship flung her to the floor, interrupting her pleasant memories. The ship pitched and tossed with greater frequency. With great difficulty she made her way to the bed. Lying down she was able to quiet her heaving stomach, but only by clinging to the headboard was she able to remain on the bed.
For what seemed like hours, the ship tossed and heaved throwing her passengers about as if they were dice in a shaker, causing more than one of them to call loudly on Heaven's intervention.
Eventually, the sea calmed. Night covered the ship with a foggy blanket. The sea, without the light of the moon or stars, gave her a feeling of terrible isolation. She fell asleep almost as soon as the worst of the pitching ceased, a prayer of thanks on her lips. She had survived and rested not in the black depths of the ocean.
After a dreamless sleep, she awoke with the bright morning sun hitting her face, nearly blinding her with its intense rays. Pleased to find the ship still intact, she rose from the narrow bed and gazed out the small window. Sunlight struck the waves, causing a myriad of sparkling lights to dance in a dazzling array over the water. The sky was perfectly clear with only one large white, puffy cloud in sight.
A school of dolphins raced alongside the ship, their dorsal fins slicing the surface of the water as they swam, dove and raced. Occasionally, one would leap from the water and show his entire body, gray and glistening in the sunlight. They were playful and appeared to be enjoying their capers in the jade sea.
It was a truly a beautiful morning to be alive. Only concern for her son clouded her heart. He had been injured in a horseback riding accident in England, or she would have had no reason for voyaging to such a cold, damp country.
After dressing, she decided to take a walk on the deck. She threw a lace shawl around her shoulders and left the already stifling heat of her small cabin. She found the Captain watching the same school of dolphins she had watched earlier. He stood tall, as the wind blew through his chestnut curls. His wavy hair was clubbed back on his neck, but a few tendrils had escaped. A short, well-trimmed beard and mustache complimented his angular thin face.
She remembered their brief encounter the evening before and blushed. It puzzled her greatly, this feeling of passion for someone she barely knew. It was something she never expected to experience again. However, it seemed as if she already knew what he would be like. He would be tender and loving, but very passionate. Indeed, the vivid images shocked her. No modest woman should think such things.
But she had already made up her mind she would never give the Captain any reason to make advances to her. Acting on her impulses simply would not do.
The Captain turned toward her. In the bright sunlight, his eyes blazed an emerald green. Indeed, they were a sharp contrast to the soft green of the water surrounding the Santa Elicia.
When he saw her, he smiled showing white, even teeth through his dark mustache. “Signora Vincenza, I see you have suffered no ill effects from last night's little storm. Most of my passengers are still in their beds. I am happy to see you are an excellent sailor.” He bowed low and kissed her hand, his lips lingering a moment longer than politeness dictated. All the while he gazed into her eyes, causing her entire body to grow quite warm. What manner of man was he to affect her so?
The waves of heat coursing through her body caused her to withdraw her hand from his. Unable to explain her abrupt reaction without revealing the nature of her confusion, she attempted a feeble laugh. “You would not have thought me a good sailor last night, Captain. I fear I was as ill as the rest of your passengers. For one, I am very thankful we are standing here on deck this morning and not food for the fish below. I commend you for your skill in saving all our lives. I did not think anyone could have brought us through the storm as you did."
The Captain, his voice soft and seductive, replied, “The Signora does me too much credit for the sailing of my ship. I merely did what any captain would do."
Although the Captain decried the necessity of praise, she knew, by the wise smile on his face that she had pleased him. Whether his pleasure was due to her expression of gratitude or her silly girlish reaction to his kiss on her hand, she remained unsure.
Nicola dawdled over her simple breakfast, then selected a book to read to while away the morning. They had been at sea for only five days, and had they not been blown off course by the storm, it would have been their last day. Concern over her son's fate consumed her. The delay and the uncertainty took precedence in her mind. Finally, she was able to dismiss her conflicting thoughts about the handsome Captain Ramos.
The loss of her son would be too much to bear. Antonio must not die, she willed. It was her son who had helped her though the horrible time after her husband's passing. It was Antonio who had kept her going, when she had wanted to stop living and join her husband.
“Signora Vincenza, pardon me for disturbing you,” a soft voice said.
Nicola looked up from her book. Captain Ramos stood in the open doorway of her cabin. He was smiling and showing his fine, white teeth. He must be extraordinarily proud of them, she thought. He certainly flashes them at me often enough.
“To the contrary, Captain, you do not disturb me at all,” she began with unfailing good manners. “I am merely reading to pass the time. The book is not a very good one—very dull with scenes of battles and such. It does not interest me much.” In reality, the book was a history on the politics of Italy and would not, in any circumstances, be considered proper reading material for a lady,
but Nicola had always been encouraged to read books of all kinds by her late husband. Thanks to him, her innate intellect had grown sharp, and she had developed a great interest in politics. Too many world shattering events had occurred in her short thirty-eight years of life.
“I wonder if the Signora would do me the honor of dining with me in my cabin tonight?” he asked, his gaze holding hers. “Since it is the last night aboard ship, I have persuaded my troublesome cook to prepare something special.” Smiling again, the captain's green eyes twinkled as he bowed over her hand and kissed it.
Nicola's tranquil manner belied her inner qualms. Although she smiled coolly and did not snatch her hand away as she had earlier, her knees weakened and would have given way, had she not already been seated. The same warm sensation ran up her arm and down to the pit of her stomach. With eyes out of focus and a brain which seemed to possess no will of its own, she assented, “Yes, Captain Ramos, I will.” In spite of her misgivings, she would have dinner with the handsome captain. Her tell-tale heart pounded rapidly in her chest. This is ridiculous, she told herself. I'm acting like a school girl.
“Until then, Signora. I await your company with great pleasure,” had been his bold reply.
Nicola could not believe the forwardness of the man. He kissed her hand again. She pulled a fan from her sleeve and plied it, cooling her warm cheeks.
Captain Ramos, his emerald eyes glittering, bowed gracefully, pivoted and exited her cabin, rubbing his hands together as he did. The nerve of him, she thought. He thinks to lie with me. Well, he will not find my favors so easily won.
The hours, which once had passed so slowly, now flew. Long before she was prepared for her dinner engagement, the faithful Maria had moved Nicola about like a sack of flour, finally managing to dress her in pale blue silk and arrange her hair in a becoming style. Maria held the precious glass mirror before Nicola.
Maria gave an exasperated sigh. “You must show some life, child. You are dining with a veree han'some man tonight. You have been alone too long. Eet ees time you have a man in your life. Thees captain weel not be aroused by a puppet. You mus’ show some life."
Her cheeks grew hot at Maria's implications. “You go too far. You are my friend, but you go too far.” With angry jerking motions, Nicola adjusted a ribbon here and a fold of the blue silk dress there. She took the ivory fan from Maria's gnarled fingers and used it furiously, pacing back and forth in the small cabin.
Maria chuckled and clapped her hands, “That's much better, cara mia. Now you are alive. You are mad, but eet ees a def'nit eemprovement. Ah, Signora, you are still so lovely."
Nicola nodded. “Thank you, Maria. You have not lost your touch
“The chignon, it is perfect for you, Signora. The captain, he will want to make love to you tonight. I am sure of it."
“Maria!” she cried, her face flushing with heat. “I am joining the Captain for dinner."
“In the han'some captain's cabin."
“I am too old for such foolishness. It is not proper."
“Hah. You do not look a single day over thirty. Your skin is smooth as a bambino's, and there is not a single gray hair on your head. I should know. I have dressed your hair for the last twenty years."
A knock at the door startled Nicola. “Oh no, not yet."
Maria opened the door. The first officer of the Santa Elicia had been sent to escort her to the Captain's quarters. Taking the first officer's proffered arm, Nicola had time to cast one last frantic look over her shoulder. Panic rose in her throat. Visions of a lamb, being led to the slaughter, crossed her mind.
The Captain greeted Nicola formally in the presence of the seaman, “Signora Vincenza."
“Captain Ramos.” Nicola curtsied.
“Would you care for a glass of this very fine Bordeaux?"
“Yes, thank you, Captain Ramos.” Gratefully, she accepted the glass. Its glowing depths reflected the points of light from the candles burning in the room. She sipped the full-bodied wine and experienced a rush of sensation to her head. Dinner passed in a blur. The seaman acted as waiter for the many courses, while she attempted what she hoped were appropriate responses to the Captain's conversation, but she would forever remain unsure of what transpired prior to the Captain's words, “That will be all, seaman."
They were alone ... and there were fewer candles alight than when she had first entered. The flickering candlelight made their shadows weave and shimmer. Whether this was an illusion or the effects of the wine, Nicola had no idea. She had consumed, possibly two glasses, but she had the distinct sensation of bobbing about like her shadow.
Powerless to move, she watched the captain. Her breathing quickened. He stepped around the table and walked toward her. Still, Nicola's body refused to move. Ramos's green eyes had darkened to emerald, yet glowed with the light, reflected from the candles scattered about the cabin. Giddy, she gazed into his eyes, her heart thudding louder with each second he continued to hold her gaze. Surely, he must hear her heart, pounding as it did.
Once he took her hand in his and held it, she could not turn back. It was simply too late. Ramos held her hand in his very gently and gazed into her eyes, a hesitant smile on his perfect lips. She gasped, “I—"
“Shh, Signora Nicola, you must call me Maximilian, and I shall call you my precious blue bird.” Tenderly he placed his hand against her cheek, then caressed lightly across her lips. His touch left a red hot trail of sensation down the side of her face, making her lips ache to be kissed. Next he traced a line from her trembling chin to the hollow of her neck, causing her to feel she might swoon. He gently stroked the soft skin above the low neckline of her gown. A shudder ran throughout her body, but she was powerless to shop his gentle caresses. Her mind told her it was wrong, but the rest of her body gave silent permission and cried for more of his touch.
Maximilian seemed to sense her surrender, for he took her in both arms and pulled her close to him. He lowered his head, grazing her neck with his tender sensual lips. Nicola felt his manhood pressing against her. Dear heaven, he was very aroused. She opened her mouth to him. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue against hers, battling for dominance, mimicking strokes of love.
Abandoning her mouth, he began slow, sensual kisses down her neck to the margin of her décolletage, moaning softly as he did.
“You are so beautiful, my blue bird. I must make love to you."
Panicked, Nicola could take no more of his torturing kisses or his soft words. “You must stop, you must..."
Maximilian stopped, pulling away slightly, but still holding her in his arms. “Are you sure you want me to stop?"
Confusion reigned in Nicola's head and heart. “I-I do not know what I want. Your touch, your lips they set me ablaze.” Unable to speak, Nicola winnowed her fingers through his wavy hair. “I-I—” Uncertainty claimed her power of speech. She rested her head against his muscular chest.
“My blue bird, I would not hurt you. I only wish to make love to you ... and bring a smile to your lovely face."
Raising her head, she looked into his eyes. “Make love to me, Maximilian. Make me smile, again."
He claimed her lips, once more—demanding, passionate kisses that left her unable to breathe. Her senses on fire, each kiss more excruciatingly sweet, Nicola responded, her passion matching his. Wild tremors tore through her body and left her helpless under their assault. She grew bold. She unbuttoned his snowy white shirt, caressing his broad shoulders, tentatively at first, then with more confidence; her fingers discovered the fine hair covering his chest.
Hurriedly they undressed each other in a frenzy. Maximilian's white ruffled shirt hit the cabin floor first, her blue silk dress next. The ubiquitous stays and petticoats followed in a rapid succession. She was swept into a river of passion, passion too long denied her body.
Once her clothing no longer hampered him, Maximilian brought his lips to play on her bare breasts. Her nipples tightened into buds, as his hands explored the flesh of her but
tocks and thighs.
Maximilian took her in his arms and carried her to his bed in a symphony of movement and sensation. He suckled one pink-tipped breast, caressing the other with one hand, and exploring the moist valley between her thighs with his other.
His manhood pressed heavily along her thigh, and she longed to join with him. “Please,” she moaned, opening herself to him.
He centered himself over her and thrust into her feminine core. Nicola welcomed him, arching to meet him, thrust for thrust, until time and place held no meaning—only the hot, sweet tremors, breaking like waves of the sea, again and again.
Their hunger sated, they slept briefly. Nicola, the first to awaken, watched her lover's body shining in a shaft of moonlight. Her lover—what wondrous words. It is sweet, indeed. She stretched, smiling to herself. Maximilian's cat-like eyes opened.
Overcome by shyness, she snatched the sheet across her naked body, casting her gaze downward.
“Cara, you must not hide you loveliness from me."
He took her chin, pulled her face close to his and gave her a soft kiss. Again, she marveled at his sensitivity and snuggled closer into his warm embrace.
“You are so beautiful and so passionate. Your body is an instrument of delight for us both. True? You did find pleasure with me, as I did with you?” he asked.
In a haughty voice, Nicola replied, “Captain Ramos, I find you quite conceited and,” she paused, then permitting a smile to cross her lips, she continued, “a most wonderful lover.” She finished her pronouncement with a light kiss, which landed astray on the tip of his nose. He pulled her to him, again.
When Nicola disembarked at Dover the following evening, she wore a smile and a new lift in her heart. She had not felt so alive, not since her husband's death. Life was good again. Silently she thanked Maximilian Ramos from the bottom of her heart for awakening her, but she did not look back, for her thoughts were for her son.
Twenty-three
Nikki stirred. “That was a much better dream,” she murmured.
See You In My Dreams Page 22