Sea Mistress

by Candace McCarthy

  . . . They had been meeting secretly for three nights and she felt comfortable with Seth. Their lovemaking made her feel alive and womanly. She now knew how it felt to desire someone and to be desired in return . . . and loved. The experience at the time had been so exhilarating, so wonderful, that it was almost frightening to her.

  That night, like now, Seth had caressed her breasts, but he’d murmured love words to her, and she’d been naked with the moon above shining down to bath her aroused form—and the evidence of Seth’s desire—with a soft, white glow. It was the first time Bess had dared to touch the most private part of him without invitation, to study and fondle the heated length of his hardening manhood. Seth’s low groan had emboldened her to rise up and press him back against the cool grass. She kissed him—his mouth, his throat . . . every inch of his sinewy body.

  She had learned how it was to feel power while making love, how to please as well as be pleased, how giving pleasure escalated her own desire. Seth had been surprised, but not opposed when that night and in the coming nights of their two short but glorious weeks together, she had been the one to initiate some of their lovemaking. In fact, he’d been extremely pleased.

  Seth’s hand moved to her belly, jerking Bess from her mental visit to the past. “Let me touch you, Bess,” he said, his voice hoarse and low.

  He was already touching her, she thought. But she knew what he meant . . . he wanted to touch her more intimately. He wanted for them to make love.

  Her whole body cried out, “Yes!” But reason hovered in her consciousness. “We shouldn’t.” She thought quickly for a good excuse. “The men . . .” Seth smiled. “They will not think a thing. Most of them are gone. The rest are too busy, for I’ve set them to task.”

  She wanted to kiss him, to feel again his warm mouth devouring hers, but she knew she shouldn’t—couldn’t, not without the risk of being hurt again.

  She wondered what had happened to her anger and thoughts of revenge. What magic did Seth possess that he could make her mind feel muddled, make her forget so easily?

  He was so handsome. His dark hair was a little long, curling at his nape. He had sideburns which he neatly kept, and his jaw was angular but smooth-shaven. She stared at his mouth. His bottom lip was fuller than the top one, but only slightly, barely enough to notice. She noticed these things, because she’d known him so intimately once, because attracted to him as she was, she couldn’t help but notice.

  And as for his eyes . . . had she ever seen a man with a clearer, bluer gaze?

  She was studying him, her thoughts busily cataloging each of his features when he suddenly bent his head and kissed her, not once but several times . . . small brief kisses that left her aching for more. His breath was scented and warm, and his tongue when he finally delved it past her lips was flavored with brandy . . . and a taste that she remembered as belonging to Seth.

  He wasn’t rough, but gentle. Yet, his kiss was demanding all the same. Geoff Conrad had managed to kiss her once, and the experience had been terrifying. Seth’s tenderness now helped make the memory of Conrad’s kiss fade. Desire curled in Bess’s belly and heated her blood.

  She kissed him back. She wove her fingers into his jet-black hair, holding him captive while she participated in the love dance of nipping teeth and dipping tongues . . .

  Seth raised his head to come up for air. His breath was labored. Bess could hear it as well as her own ragged breathing, and she knew she should stop things before they went any further— before they went too far and she found herself beneath Seth, naked, on his bunk.

  But, suddenly, Bess realized that that was exactly where she wanted to be. It had been so long since she’d experienced anything this wonderful, and she wanted to know what it was to make love again—to feel her mind and body shatter into exploding bits of wild ecstasy.

  “Bess,” he murmured. “I missed this. I missed you.”

  She stiffened, for, to her, his words rang false.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. He must have sensed her dismay.

  “I hardly think you could have missed me these past five years.”

  His smile was twisted. “Has it really been five years? It doesn’t seem that long ago.” He traced her forehead with his fingertip, and she pulled away, unwilling to allow his touch.

  Seth’s smile became a brief frown. “Actually,” he said, touching his lips to the area he’d just caressed, “it seems like I’ve been wanting you forever.”

  She blinked, shocked by his words yet mesmerized by his voice. “You have?”

  Apparently encouraged by her response, he touched her again, and brushed back a golden strand of hair from her face. He nodded. “I have. I’ve fought it, but it was there since the day I first saw you on board the Sea Mistress. I was hopelessly ensnared once again.”

  “You seemed angry with me—like you hated me.”

  He sighed. “I was angry with you. And why shouldn’t I have been? You were a complication on board that I hadn’t counted on.” Then, he gave her a tender smile. “But that didn’t mean I didn’t feel desire for you. My God, I hadn’t seen you for five years, yet nothing in my imagination could have prepared me for your beauty. You’ve aged well, Bess.”

  She arched her eyebrows. with amusement. “Thank you—I think.” She studied him a moment. “You have, too.”

  A flame lit up his blue eyes. “Thank you,” he said softly.

  Seth released her abruptly and stood up. Bess was puzzled by his sudden change of manner, and she felt chilled outside of his embrace.

  “There will have to be a change on board ship if we’re to avoid another confrontation such as the one you suffered with Conrad. I’ve thought long and hard on this, and have come to only one conclusion. It’s not one you’ll like, but I believe it’s the only choice.”

  “Yes?” She eyed him warily, because his behavior suggested that he was uncomfortable with his decision.

  Seth prowled about the room, clearly in a state of agitation. “While I was on shore, I met a missionary—a Mr. Charles Dunnon.” He stopped before her. “We must get him to marry us. As my wife, no man on this ship would dare bother you or touch you. As my wife, you’ll be safe.”

  Bess rose and stared at him, aghast. “Are you out of your mind? After all that has happened between us and after all these years? You can’t seriously expect me to agree to be your wife!” The word alone gave her gooseflesh.

  “Damn it, Bess! How else do you expect me to protect you?” His eyes sparkled with anger. “I told you I’ve thought long and hard on this. Do you think I’d suggest this if there was another way? Only as my wife will I know you’re safe.” He caught her by the shoulder. “Think of it. You’ll be free to roam the deck. You can even visit the galley if you want to.”

  Dear God, she thought, he has no idea what he’s asking of me!

  “It will be a marriage of convenience only,” he said, revealing that perhaps he did have some idea. “We can have the marriage annulled once we reach San Francisco.”

  “On what grounds?” she challenged. She wondered if it was really so easy to get a marriage annulled.

  She saw Seth’s mouth tighten. “On what grounds do you think!”

  Bess took a large breath. That the marriage was never consummated? It was the only reason she could think of. But was it possible? What proof would they need? They certainly couldn’t use the fact that she was still a virgin, for he had taken that from her years ago.

  “It would never work. We’d never be able to get an annulment.”

  “It would work,” he insisted. “Who is going to argue when we tell the circumstances of the marriage?”

  She moved to put distance between herself and Seth. The topic of conversation between them was upsetting enough without being in the disturbing near-vicinity of Seth Garret. She couldn’t think, couldn’t reason when she was close to him. Her body still pulsed from his caresses. Her lips still tingled from his kisses.

  Bess eyed him from the oth
er side of the cabin. What game was this man playing? First he tells me he desires me and then he asks me to marry him— a marriage of convenience in order to protect me. Were his soft words and fiery caresses a means to an end? An act to get her to agree?

  And if so, why? So that he could seduce her again, make her his mistress while at sea?

  The painful past returned at that moment to haunt her, and she realized that Seth was manipulating her so she would agree.

  “No,” she said. “I won’t marry you.”

  Seth tensed. “And why not? I thought I’d explained it all quite well. It seems the best solution, given the circumstances. I’ve thought a lot about it, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s the best solution.”

  “Best solution for whom? You? So that you can legally order me about?” Bess shook her head. “We’ve made it this far, and we’ll make it the rest of the way. I’ll take my chances without such protection, thank you. I’ll not be your wife.”

  He stared at her with a look of impatience. “Why are you being so disagreeable?”

  She laughed harshly, bitterly. “You’ve just kissed me and professed great desire for me. You tell me how much you missed me, and suddenly I’m supposed to agree to be your wife?” She appeared distressed. “There’s too much past between us. I don’t trust you. I don’t trust your motives.”

  Had he somehow learned that it was she and not George Metcalfe who was the owner of the company? Or was it just a suspicion? Had he realized that through marriage she could lose all she held dear? A woman had very few rights when it came to her husband. He’d said the marriage would be temporary, but how could she be sure of this? How could she trust this man who had let her down once before?

  “No,” she said, digging in her heels. She wouldn’t allow him to do this, to trap her this way.

  He scowled. “Yes,” he said. “I’m the captain of this ship, and my word here is law. Unless you and your Mr. Reeves wish to enjoy an extended stay at Pernambuco, you will marry me and you will act as though you’re happy about it.”

  “You’re actually threatening to throw us off this ship?” He nodded. “Even though you made a deal with m-my cousin?” He inclined his head a second time, and Bess was outraged. “Why that’s blackmail!”

  Seth stifled the twinge of guilt he felt at resorting to such tactics. “Call it what you will, but I believe it’s sound logic and good sense.” It was, after all, for her own good that he was doing this. Didn’t she realize this? How could he make her understand?

  And as for his motives, fear for her safety was number one, but at the same time a small part of him wanted to return to the past, forget what had happened between them, and be free to call her his wife, even if it was just for a short while. Even if it was just pretend.

  “Blackmail or not, I’m dead serious about my threat. So the choice is yours, dear Bess. Marry me or enjoy your stay in Pernambuco—indefinitely.”

  “Bastard!” she cried. Bess lunged at him with raised fists.

  Only one of her blows struck him, in the shoulder, before he caught her wrists, effectively stopping her from hitting him again.

  The tension between them sizzled in the air as they glared at each other. Seth could feel her slender wrists within his hands, and he wanted to slide his fingers up her arms, along the hollow of her neck then down . . .

  Cursing him, Bess began to struggle anew. “I would not marry you if you were the last man on earth! Not if you were the only thing keeping me from a sure death!”

  She kicked him in the shin, and he grunted with pain. Furious, Seth changed his grasp. It was a fight but he finally secured her within his arms, her back to his chest, her arms locked across her breasts and belly, her hands pinned at opposite sides.

  “Bess, stop it!” he commanded.

  She continued to fight, butting herself back against him, kicking him with her heels. In her position, she couldn’t cause Seth much damage, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t more than a little annoyed with her.

  “Elisabeth Mary Metcalfe! Stop it this instant! Fighting like this will get you nowhere. Do you hear me? Nowhere!”

  Exhausted from her efforts to break away, Bess slumped within Seth’s arms. He was right, she admitted to herself. Fighting him would get her nowhere. But it had given her immense satisfaction to strike him, for it was a way to get back at him for all the heartbreak he’d caused her years ago.

  She stood still, her breathing ragged, conscious of his firm grip on her arms and of the pressing weight of his lithe form against her back. His clean masculine scent reached out to tantalize her. She closed her eyes, and silently willed away the confusion, the faint stirring of desire.

  Why? Why was this happening to her? Nothing was going as planned. Marriage to Seth Garret! Once the idea would have delighted her to no end. She had never been happier than when she was planning to be his wife, but now . . . she was frightened.

  She could lose everything if they married and the truth became known. Everything—including her very soul.

  She’d sworn never again to love or feel anything for a man. But most especially this man. Seth Garret.

  “Please release me,” she said coldly.

  “You’ll not bodily attack me again?”

  Bess nodded, astonished and slightly ashamed of her violent outburst and behavior. She’d never hit a person in anger before, only in jest. But she had wanted to hit Seth, to hurt him, and she was shaken that she could so easily lose control.

  Seth let her go, and she moved away quickly, her head bowed low. She could sense his regard, but refused to acknowledge it by looking at him. What was she going to do? Bess didn’t doubt that Seth meant business when he threatened to put her and John Reeves off the Sea Mistress. He’d said that Pernambuco was unsafe for her, yet he’d leave her there with only Reeves to protect her from harm.

  Anger warmed her insides. Nothing Seth had said made sense to her. He was just trying to manipulate her so that she’d go along with his desires.

  “You said you wanted to marry me to protect me, yet you’d leave me here with only Reeves?”

  “I said marriage to me would protect you, yes,” Seth said, “but that’s not the only reason I think it’s a good idea. I have my men to think about. My decision was made to avoid trouble among my crew.”

  She blinked. “I see.” And she did. That did make sense to her. And it seemed to properly define his motives.

  No, I think not, Seth thought. But it doesn’t matter, because I’ll not admit the truth to you. That I’m still attracted to you, despite the past, and I’ll not lay a hand on your lovely body, although God knows it won’t be easy for me to keep from touching you.

  She thought he’d professed desire to convince her to agree to the marriage. Good, he decided. Let her think it. It would make things easier that way.

  Bess appeared to be battling with indecision. “You’ll not touch me.”

  His mouth tightened. “Except when necessary.” He heard his own teeth grind. “Listen here, Bess, and listen well. When we marry, we may not be man and wife in the true physical sense of a marriage, but no one must know that. Every man on board this ship must believe that our marriage is genuine. Marriage to me will offer you little protection if they don’t.”

  He grabbed her chin, raising it until his blue eyes captured her gaze. “You will act the happy bride. I will be your devoted bridegroom. Now, do you think you can do that?”

  She jerked away from him, stepping back to glare at him. “Act happy as your wife?”

  Seth narrowed his eyes at her scathing tone. Then, he nodded.

  “Fortunately for you, dear Captain, I know how to playact, and I can do so well.

  “Indeed, Miss Metcalfe,” he said curtly. “I think perhaps I’ve experienced this acting before.”

  The painful past hovered in the air between them.

  “And what is that supposed to mean?” she said.

  “It means, dear future wife,” he replied with a
n ingratiating smile, “that you and I will make a wonderfully convincing couple in the throes of newly wedded bliss.”

  Eleven

  “Marry him? Are you crazy?” John Reeves exclaimed. “You can’t marry the man!” He ran a hand through his graying hair, tugging the ends until they stood up straight like a porcupine’s quills, as he paced about Bess’s cabin.

  “He says it’s the only way,” Bess said with a calmness she hadn’t felt earlier. “Marriage to the captain will keep me safe.” She averted her eyes from Reeves’s probing gaze, conscious of the way her face heated at the thought of marrying Seth Garret.

  “You can marry me.” His words were quiet, but no less startling.

  Bess’s eyes glistened. “Oh, John, that’s sweet, and I appreciate the offer—I really do, but—”

  “Yes?” He seemed overly anxious for her to explain herself.

  “Do you honestly believe that as your wife I would be protected against Garret’s crew? But as the wife of the captain . . .”

  Pain flashed briefly across Reeves’s expression. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “You know I’m right.” Her smile was affectionate. “The arrangement will be a temporary one only. As soon as we reach California, we’ll have the marriage annulled.”

  Reeves’s brow furrowed with astonishment. “Annulled, he says?”

  She nodded, hoping that he couldn’t read her own doubts, her fears.

  “You trust this man that much?”

  Bess swallowed before answering. “I don’t know, but what other choice do I have?” It was either marry Seth Garret or be put off the ship in a foreign, perhaps hostile land. She didn’t tell Reeves of Seth’s threats: Her friend would be furious, and he and the captain might come to blows. Then she and Reeves would most certainly be put off the Sea Mistress.

  “Don’t marry him.”

  She raised her eyebrows at his persistence. “See this bruise on my cheek,” she said, pointing toward the sore area on the right side of her face. “You can stand there and clearly see this, yet still promise me I’ll be safe?” Bess sighed. “John, I’m tired of spending most of my time below in this cabin. I want to be able to come and go as I please.” She paused. “Seth has assured me that, as his wife, I’ll be able to do so.”