Splendor

by Catherine Hart

  Eden glared back. Then she turned back to the tray she’d brought in, caught up the cloth napkin, and wadded it into a ball. With a determined gleam in her eye, she walked slowly toward him, her intent obvious.

  “Eden Winters, don’t you dare! You’ll live to regret it, if you do,” he warned darkly.

  She shook her head at him. “You should know by now what I will dare when I want,” she told him. “As for regrets, we’ll simply have to wait and see, won’t we, Captain Kane?” As he opened his mouth to argue further, she shoved the cloth between his teeth, successfully muffling his curses.

  “Now then,” she cooed, stepping back to study her good work, “that’s much better.” She made to leave, halting at the doorway and smiling as he continued to yank futilely at his bindings and rail at her through the muzzle, his black eyes blazing at her. “I’ll be back later, and if you are more prone to listening, I’ll further explain matters to you. I’ll also feed you the meal you would already be digesting, had you been more civil.”

  It was Nate who next entered the captain’s quarters, regarding the bed, the taut-tugged ropes, and the lunging pile of ghost-inhabited clothes with a crooked grin. “Ah, lad! If only ye had listened sooner, ye could have saved yerself all this trouble. And us as well.”

  Devlin grumbled at him from behind the cloth.

  “Save yer breath, Dev. I’m not here to listen to yer threats. I’ve only come to help ye attend to yer more private needs, since Eden can’t be expected to do it. The lass has seen altogether too much o’ yer bare arse already, if ye take my meanin’. Fact is, ye should be thankin’ yer lucky stars we got ye out o’ Charles Town when we did, for Janie was riled enough to nail yer hide to the stable door for buzzard bait.”

  Devlin’s answer was a low, threatening growl.

  After loosening the bonds securing Devlin’s stocking-clad ankles to the footboard, Nate pulled a crockery chamber pot from beneath the bed. “Now, I’m gonna untie one o’ yer hands so ye can unbutton yer breeches and tend to business, but don’t ye go tryin’ nothin’ funny. We dressed ye so I can see what ye’re up to, and if I see yer free hand anywhere near the other, ye’ll be askin’ for a lump on yer noggin—and the next time nature calls, ye’ll be goin’ in a nappy, jest like a newborn babe,” he warned.

  This was the first time Devlin had given a thought to his clothing, but now that Nate had mentioned it, he saw that he was, indeed, dressed in one of his visible outfits. There were even pieces of colored yarn tied about his fingers and wrists, the better to enable his captors to determine the exact movements of his hands and feet. Though he could not see it, he could also feel some sort of band about his brow, encircling his head, and could only assume they had reasoned a hat would have fallen off too easily.

  From the looks of it, they appeared to have given a good deal of careful consideration to all aspects of his abduction, down to the smallest detail. It would now be his task to discover one detail they had missed, and to put it to his advantage when they were least expecting it—much as Eden had done with him. .

  Though he was tempted to toss the pot at Nate’s head, Devlin thought better of it. Not because of his friend’s warning, but more to lull the man into believing Devlin was beginning to accept the situation, becoming a more cooperative prisoner. Let them drop their guard, as he had done. It would serve them right, and him well, when he managed to turn the tables on them.

  With that in mind, he tried to hide his temper when Eden returned to the cabin on Nate’s departing heels.

  “Are you ready to eat now?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  She bent over him and yanked the gag from between his teeth. Skin went with it, his mouth being so dry now, and Devlin’s good intentions flew to the winds.

  “Damn and blast, woman! Did you have to take half my flesh with it?”

  “Still your usual charming self, I see,” came her unrepentant rejoinder. She did, however, offer him a cool drink of water, which he was forced to accept from her helpful hand.

  The food on the tray was now long congealed, but when he complained, she chided him. “If you had behaved yourself earlier, ’twould not be cold, so you have only yourself to blame. Now, open your mouth like a good boy.”

  He offered a sneer, but with his stomach rumbling, he did as she bade. After taking three large mouthfuls of toast laden with egg and ham, his teeth clamped down firmly on her fingers.

  “Ouch! Let loose, you ogre!” she screeched, rapping him sharply on his aching head to effect her release. “ ’Tis not fitting, or wise, to bite the hand that feeds you. Try that again, and I just might decide to let you starve until your manners improve.”

  “Then stop shoving that slop in so fast,” he demanded fretfully, twisting about to rub his smarting head briskly against his pillow, in lieu of being able to do so with his hand. “Or have you a mind to choke me, Eden, since you give me no time to chew the food properly?”

  “Now, there’s a thought.” She did take more care from that point on, however.

  When she had finished and seated herself in a nearby chair with her sewing, he asked irritably, “How is it that you are not suffering any ill effects from your first sea voyage? I would have thought you would be headfirst in a slop jar for the next week.”

  She gave him a complacent grin. “Sorry to disappoint you, Devlin,” she said, not sorry at all. “And how are you enduring the aftereffects of the sleeping potion?”

  He scowled, remembering how he had guzzled the wine so eagerly, with nary a word of prompting from her lying lips. “You think you are clever, don’t you, my sweet? But you were not clever enough to escape unscathed, were you? And what is next, Eden? A hue and cry for marriage?”

  She laughed in his face. “Who says I want to marry the likes of you? Ah, yes! I can see it now. Years of you being tied to my side—not for any love of me, but simply because without me you cannot function as a normal person. Surely, sir, that is every girl’s dream!”

  He blinked in surprise. “My pardon for so offending you,” he avowed testily. “So! If not marriage, what do you want?”

  “I assumed that would be obvious, even to a thickhead such as you. I want you to apply for pardon.”

  “And you paid the price for such with your lovely body?” he said, arching a brow at her. “Duchess, has no one taught you to get the prize before paying the cost? ’Tis much more productive done that way round.”

  Eden was simmering. It showed in the heat of her gaze. “Had I made such a bargain with you yesterday, or the day before, would you have agreed?”

  He grinned and shook his head. “Nay, but ’twould have been amusing to see how far you would have carried the game.”

  “Would it?” she asked, all too sweetly. Rising, she set her sewing aside. “Shall we see about that?”

  He frowned at her, not at all certain what she meant. His brow furrowed further as she stepped to the door and threw the lock. Then she began to unbutton the front of her dress. His eyes widened. “What are you doing, wench?”

  “Why, playing more ‘games,’ of course. And testing your theory. Were you not saying, in essence, that having once tasted them, my charms are less tempting to you? That they would gain me naught? Shall we see if I am still capable of ‘amusing’ you?”

  Eden took her own sweet time with the fastenings until she had opened the front of her dress from chest to waist. Slowly, before Devlin’s disbelieving eyes, she pulled loose the stomacher which filled in the deep vee of the gown’s bodice. She tossed it onto the bed to land at his side.

  Her fingers toyed with the sash about her waist, easing the fabric from the pretty bow it had formed. When the ribbon slid free, she held it out before her, sliding the lustrous satin through her fingers. Then, on inspiration, she bent forward to glide the slick length over Devlin’s body—an act which would have been much more impressive if he’d been nude. Still, she noted with immense satisfaction that he swallowed hastily when she dragged it over his bare thr
oat and caressed his lips with it.

  “Eden, you are playing with fire,” he warned thickly.

  “Oh? And what are you going to do about it, my dashing pirate?” she taunted, reaching her arms around to unhook her skirts from their side loops. She eased the dress from her shoulders, ever so slowly exposing her ruffled petticoat fully to his view. With a delicate shrug of her shoulders, the cloth fell to her waist and caught there for just a moment, awaiting the sweet shimmy of her hips, which sent it floating to her feet.

  Next came her petticoats, all four of them. Again Eden rid herself of them in the most tantalizing fashion, and with each enticing twitch of her hips, Devlin felt himself grow warmer, his manhood swelling uncomfortably within the confines of his tight breeches.

  Her eyes shifted knowingly to his crotch, and she laughed softly. “Are you amused yet, Devlin?” she mocked. “Do you like what you see?” Bending to remove her slippers, she presented him with a tantalizing glimpse of her breasts over the gaping top of her chemise.

  He groaned. His mouth watered with longing to take hold of the proffered fruit displayed so temptingly beyond his reach. “Enough, vixen,” he ground out.

  “Not nearly,” she countered saucily.

  There were eight tiny ribbons along the front of her chemise. Devlin counted each of them, watching in fascination as Eden’s fingers lovingly untied them, dawdling over the process until he wanted to scream at her to hurry. With each that came undone, more of her sweet, pale flesh was exposed. Again, she lagged over the band at her waist.

  A fine sheen of perspiration glistened at her throat and chest, the only thing that now seemed to hold the fabric over her breasts, shielding them from his avid gaze. It was the only hint that she might be nervous. Or was it simply too warm in the cabin, despite the wide window opened to the extreme aft of the ship, where prying eyes could not see in? It certainly felt stifling; sweat beaded upon his own brow and ran in rivulets into his damp hair.

  Like the temptress she had suddenly become, Eden peeled the cloth from her breasts, her shoulders, her hips. As it pooled at her feet, she stood proudly before him, clad only in the sheerest of stockings and her lacy garters. As if she had all the time in the world, she pulled the pins from her hair, letting the silken mass tumble down her back and across her breasts, only barely veiling them within its waving strands.

  Though not large, her breasts were beautifully formed, firm and round, the rosy crests dimpling prettily in the breeze from the window. Or perhaps it was the hot glow in Devlin’s black eyes that made them spring to attention so eagerly. As if she’d read his thoughts, Eden’s tongue crept out to lick her lips, moistening them as he wished to do to her breasts and those perky pink nipples. Her hands slid smoothly along her body, teasing him until his own curled into fists. Her palms cupped her breasts, thrusting them tauntingly before him.

  “Do you want them, Devlin?” she purred. “Shall I give you a taste?” She bent over him, holding them just shy of his reach.

  “Better yet, perhaps you’d like to feel them,” she suggested with a smile that would have put a sea siren to shame. “Shall I undress you?”

  Devlin could only groan as she tugged his shirt free of his breeches, pushing it up his chest and over his head. With his hands bound as they were, the garment caught at his wrists and hung there like a drooping flag of surrender. Next she unbuttoned his breeches. As she tugged them over his hips, to a point just above his knees, his turgid shaft sprang free, and Devlin gave a muted sigh that at least this part of him was to be released from its bindings. Perhaps if Eden were to see this wanton act to its conclusion, he would soon feel further relief.

  But that was wishful thinking. Bent solely on tormenting him, Eden slid her body along his. Starting low on his thighs, she glided upward, dragging her breasts slowly over every inch of quivering male flesh she had just exposed. “Does that feel good, love?” she whispered.

  “Aye, witch. You know it does,” he admitted, straining the words through gritted teeth. She rewarded him with a shower of light, wet kisses.

  Her silken hair spread over him, trailing softly in the wake of her hot mouth and burning breasts, like fingers of flame. Her legs, still encased in the sheer stockings, slithered over his, one knee coming to rest lightly atop his aching manhood, stroking its throbbing length as his flesh leapt and arched in helpless response.

  Just when he was sure he was about to explode for need of her, Eden drew back slightly. “Admit that you want me, Devlin,” she commanded softly.

  “I want you. Come over me.”

  “How much? What would you give to have me now?”

  “For pity’s sake, sweetling,” he moaned. “Can’t we discuss this afterward?”

  “Nay. That is not what you told me before, when you were mocking me so well. You said not to relinquish the price before the prize.”

  “I’ll not apply for pardon, Eden,” he grated, his body screaming for hers, for that sweet, mindless relief only she could give it.

  “Aye, you shall,” she insisted, sliding from atop him. “Mayhap not just yet, but you will concede.” She rose and stood looking down at him, her face flushed with her own unappeased desire. “You taught me that as well, Devlin. You made me want you until I granted you exactly what you sought. Now the shoe is on the other foot, and I intend to make it fit just as tightly. Think on it, love.” Her glance slid to his engorged manhood. “Think long and hard.”

  Chapter 23

  It was the most delectable, intense torment Devlin had ever experienced. He could not believe the speed and ease with which Eden had discarded her previous prudery. Having once been initiated into the delights of the flesh, she now seemed to revel in her newfound female prowess, flaunting her seductive powers with all the artfulness of an accomplished courtesan. He could only conclude that such talent must be inborn in some women, and once released, it was stunning to behold. And extremely erotic.

  The woman was also ruthless, taunting him day and night. Everything she did, even the most innocent act, seemed to further excite his desire for her. The scheming witch was out to break him, and apparently would not cease trying until she got him to agree to her demands. Though the moment of his defeat had yet to arrive, Devlin was not at all sure how much longer he could survive this sensual onslaught. She was fast turning him into a blithering slave to her charms.

  Each night, Eden crawled into his bed, buck-naked, to curl her soft, smooth body next to his. All night long, he lay awake and painfully aroused—feeling her, smelling her, yet unable to do a thing about it! Indeed, she had him completely at her mercy, and Eden did not seem at all prone to sympathy over his sad plight. Rather, she seemed to enjoy it immensely, to devise even more innovative ways to torture him.

  He came to live in anticipation of those moments when she would rise to stretch the weariness from her body, arching up on her toes, her arms reaching far over her head. The elegant turn of her throat enticed him nearly as much as the forward thrust of her breasts and hips. And the supple gyrations she employed at such times was enough to get a rise out of a corpse!

  She made an art of the simple act of dressing and undressing, her movements easy and graceful, her hands lingering on all the places he wanted so desperately to touch: stroking her stockings over her long, shapely legs; her fingers sifting through her cinnamon hair; shimmying into her petticoats and letting them slither over her slender curves.

  Even while sewing or eating, she was a tempting baggage. The tip of her tongue would creep out to catch between her teeth, or to lick a morsel of food from her lips or her fingers. Simply to tantalize him further, she would often apply similar measures toward him, lapping and sucking crumbs from his lips and chin, even from his bare chest, and he would almost lose his mind.

  When she wasn’t tormenting the daylights out of him, and sometimes while she was doing so, they talked. Once she had described to him in minute detail all the precautions she and Nate had taken to counter her presence aboard ship, De
vlin relaxed a bit. Still, he didn’t feel absolutely comfortable about having her here. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Of course, comfort wasn’t something he was frequently experiencing these days anyway. And they would simply have to wait to see how well the priest’s blessing would work.

  “Explain one thing to me, Eden,” he requested one day. “If you don’t wish to wed me, then why have you gone to such lengths to try to convince me to apply for pardon? I don’t understand it at all.”

  She gave him a long, contemplative look, as if deciding how best to word her reply. Then she said softly, “Because I want you to be safe. I don’t want you needlessly risking your life, with every navy in the civilized world bent on your capture. It would kill me to learn that you’d met your end on the gallows, your body left there to rot as a warning to other corsairs.”

  “Sweetling, there are risks to everything in life. I wouldn’t have to be pirating to slip on a deck and break my neck, or to choke on a chicken bone, or to die of unknown causes in my own bed.”

  “Aye, but those would be accidents, or effects of nature. As a brigand, you would be bringing about your own demise, don’t you see? And for what? A cache of jewels? A handful of gold? A few years of grand adventure? Even Nate sees the wisdom of quitting while he can, with his head still atop his shoulders.”

  “Nate is becoming an old fuss-fidget. Besides, he has a good ten years on me, and I’m not so ready to settle into my rocking chair.”

  “Age hasn’t a thing to do with it, Devlin,” she argued. “Nor has wanting to marry or raise a family. The plain truth is right before you, but you refuse to see it. Your days of roaming the seas and stealing to your heart’s content are numbered. ’Tis an occupation which is soon to be abolished altogether, by countries and kings and common folk all working hand-in-hand to see piracy stamped out, once and for all. I simply do not want to see you breathe your last along with it.”