How much had he come to care for the younger woman, Kathleen wondered? A year was an awfully long time to spend alone together. Was he in love with her? She certainly was beautiful, even after all that time on the island. And she was young; no more than eighteen. . . .
Then there was Jean. Fresh tears came to Kathleen’s eyes just thinking of him. What must he be feeling now? Her gaze searched out the dark shape of the Pride against the night sky. Jean had pulled her back from the edge of insanity. He had taught her to live again—and to love. He had become a vital part of her life, and she loved him dearly—yet she loved Reed more. Reed was her life; the very air she breathed; her heart, her soul, her blood. It was a wound to her heart to think of leaving Jean, but to lose Reed a second time would be to die inside.
It grieved Kathleen that circumstances had rent the fabric of the beautiful friendship between Reed and Jean. They had loved one another like brothers, and now they were on opposite sides, with Kathleen standing between them. Would their friendship ever be mended? Could anyone win in this crazy war of love and possession? By law, she belonged to Reed, yet a part of her would always be Jean’s. Technically, Kathleen had committed adultery, yet she could not feel guilt. She had finally forgiven herself, believing Reed lost to her forever. She had gone to Jean with love in her heart, though she would die before admitting this to Reed. What good would it do any of them? It would only cause more grief, and would ensure that Jean and Reed would never be friends again. Kathleen was glad she had had the presence of mind to remove Jean’s things from her cabin before hiding away in the shrouds.
Interwoven through Kathleen’s mingled pain and joy was a gnawing anger. While she had unwittingly been unfaithful to her supposedly drowned husband, Reed had gone into his affair with full knowledge of his infidelity. He had burst back into her life today without warning, a spectre resurrected, expecting Kathleen to welcome him with open arms regardless of his indiscretions. Within minutes, he had reverted to his old demanding, possessive arrogant self.
Miss Sally Simpson was another matter, indeed! Kathleen did not need to be a soothsayer to forecast trouble ahead from that quarter. That pale blonde hair and those cool blue eyes would attract any man, let alone a virile man on a deserted island! Kathleen had noticed that, though petite, the young woman had a well-proportioned figure.
“Why couldn’t she have been old and ugly, with wrinkles and warts?” Kathleen groaned. “She even has a pretty face and straight teeth!”
It was evident that Sally Simpson was greatly attracted to Reed. She’d had him to herself for a year, and would not give him up easily, whether Reed was married or not. The girl meant trouble in more ways than one! Beneath that helpless, charming facade, Kathleen sensed a shrewd mind and a calculating nature. Possessing these same qualities herself, she could easily recognize them in her rival.
Kathleen grimaced, seeing her own jealousy for what it was. “ ‘Meow,’ said one cat to the other,” she mocked sarcastically. Still, beyond her justified reasons for disliking the girl, Kathleen’s enmity went further. There was something about Miss Simpson that did not quite ring true; something Kathleen could not quite identify, but that told her that Sally was not what she appeared to be. Her instincts told her that Sally was a ruthless little manipulator beneath that clever disguise of sweet femininity, an unscrupulous type who would use any means to achieve her goal, unless Kathleen missed her guess. Kathleen’s natural wariness told her she would be a fool to underestimate little Sally Simpson.
With that in mind, it was imperative that Sally never connect Emerald’s identity with that of Reed’s wife. The woman would have no compunctions about using that handy bit of information to her best advantage, Kathleen was sure. It would pay to be very careful, indeed, if Sally Simpson was to be around for any length of time. It was Kathleen’s devout hope that upon reaching Savannah, Miss Simpson would travel on to other parts without delay, but Kathleen sincerely doubted this would be the case. The woman seemed too much the tenacious type to give up so easily.
Kathleen’s lids drooped over sleepy, tear-laden eyes. “I am so tired,” she thought hazily, “so weary of battling my thoughts and feelings!” Too much had happened too quickly, and now her body was insisting she rest. Her eyes blinked shut heavily once, twice—and suddenly it was too much of an effort to open them.
When she almost toppled off her precarious perch, Kathleen decided to climb down. She descended slowly, her limbs stiff from hours of immobility, and made her way slowly to her quarters. There she stopped, noticing the thin line of light showing from beneath the door. Reed must be in her cabin! As she hesitated, debating whether to go in search of another place to sleep, or to get clean clothes from her quarters first, she heard Reed’s voice.
“Come in, Kat. Don’t cower in the passageway all night,” he growled.
Her hand found the doorlatch, and she marched into the room, slamming the door behind her. “I have never cowered in my life, Reed Taylor!” Her gaze narrowed on him, comfortably reclining on her bunk, his boots off and his shirt half unbuttoned. “I see you have made yourself at home in my cabin.”
“Where else would I spend my first night reunited with my loving wife?” he asked innocently.
Heading for her sea chest, Kathleen said, “I am really not up to a lengthy argument with you tonight, Reed. I just want to be by myself. If you won’t sleep elsewhere, I will.”
An agitated squawk from the corner of the room drew her attention. There, in his cloth-covered cage, sat a disgruntled Peg-Leg. “What have you done to Peg-Leg?” she demanded.
As she reached to uncover the cage, Reed barked, “Let him be. He was being a nuisance, so I covered him up.” Reed examined his left hand critically. “The rotten bird pecked me!”
A reluctant smile tugged at Kathleen’s lips. “Just shows what an excellent judge of character he is!” she retorted smartly, returning to take clean clothes from her chest.
“Kat,” Reed’s drawl held a confident, leisurely quality. “If you think you can reach that door before I do, you are welcome to try, but I will warn you now that you will not be leaving this cabin until we get a few matters settled between us.”
Mentally measuring the distance to the door, and considering Reed’s deceptively relaxed pose, Kathleen knew she had made a foolish mistake in entering the cabin in the first place. She closed her eyes with a weary sigh. “All right, Reed. Tired as I am, I suppose you will give me no rest until we do. Let’s talk.” She walked to her desk and sat warily on the edge of it. The sheath of her sword clinked noisily against the desk, and out of habit, she removed her weapons and laid them down. Then, tense and nervous, she faced her husband.
Reed was watching her, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It is difficult to think of you as Kathleen, with your hair dark. I keep wanting to call you Emerald.” His tone turned reflective. “All that time on the island, I kept picturing you at Chimera with our son and daughter, your copper hair flying in the breeze, your emerald eyes bright with laughter ...”
A wobbly, wistful smile touched her lips. “Whenever you came to mind, I kept forgetting you had grown that mustache and beard. I’d only seen it the last time you were home ...” All her unvoiced agony was reflected in her eyes.
Reed’s gaze found hers and held it. Softly, as if afraid his words would break the spell that held them, he said, “You will be going back to Chimera with me, Kat?” It was half-question, half-statement.
Pushing herself away from the desk, Kathleen crossed to the porthole. She stood looking out at the dark, starlit night, her arms wound about her waist as if to contain her pain. She nodded, her eyes closed tightly. “Yes,” she whispered at last. Her glossy black hair fell forward to shield her face as she bowed her head. Her teeth caught at her lower lip to stifle a sob that would not be held back. Tears rolled down her face as she stood in abject misery.
Quiet as a cougar, Reed slipped up behind her. Until his hands clamped about her arms, she was unaware o
f his approach. Whirling her about to face him, his face was now a hard mask of bitter fury. “Tears, my sweet?” he asked scornfully. “Tears for your lost love, perhaps?”
Mutely, she shook her head in denial. How could she explain that she was crying for all of them—for love gained and lost; for a world made mad by one ironic twist of fate?
Angered by her quiet sobbing, he shook her hard. “Don’t lie to me!” he ground out through gritted teeth. With an oath, he threw her from him, to land half across the bunk.
Amazement held her there as he stalked across the small space separating them. His long legs caged hers between them as he bent forward, his hands delving into her hair to hold her gaze to his. “Tell me about you and Jean,” he growled, his eyes twin blazes of blue flame. His thumbs reached down to press against her throat. “Tell me before I strangle you!”
Kathleen glared back, too angry to be frightened. “Are we to exchange confidences now, Reed?” she asked tardy. "Are you as willing to tell me about your experiences with your island playmate?” Despite the telling tick in his jaw that denoted his anger, she goaded him further. “Did you employ your caveman tactics with her, too?”
Reed sneered down at her, his face dark and sardonic. “It was never necessary with Sally,” he answered spitefully.
Kathleen struggled to keep the hurt from showing on her face. “How convenient for you!” she sniped.
“Quite,” he snapped. “Now it is your turn. How accommodating were you to Jean? Did you show him your famous temper, or did you tempt him with honeyed lips?” His fingers tightened, pulling at her hair.
“Go to hell, Reed Taylor!” she hissed.
“I probably shall, my love, but I shall take you with me.” His lips lowered to within a hair’s breadth of hers. “You see, my lovely, wanton wife, you belong to me, and what I own, I don't give up,” he whispered menacingly. “Neither do I share my prize possessions!”
“I am not your slave, or your horse, or . . .”
He cut her angry retort short. “But you are mine!” he snarled, his lips claiming hers in a devastating demonstration of his mastery. She fought him silently, her lips caught in the vise of his. His fingers freed her hair to loosen the lacing of her vest, and he quickly drew it from about her wriggling torso. With deft motions, he stripped her breeches from her, then held her bucking body to the bed as he wrestled out of his own clothing, ignoring her screeching oaths.
His body came back over hers, hot and hard against her silken skin. His mouth reclaimed hers with demanding authority, forcing her lips to part beneath his to receive his questing tongue. Calloused fingers held her jaw, preventing her from biting him.
A muted scream of rage gurgled in her throat. Damn him, anyway! He always did this to her! He always found a way to make her forget everything but his touch! She wanted to stay angry at him now—or did she? Long-buried fires were flickering slowly to life under his knowing caresses, and Kathleen found herself fighting a losing battle, both with Reed and with herself. Through a daze of tears and confusion, she heard him murmur, “Don’t fight me, kitten.” Before she could respond, he spoke again, and his voice held a gentle note of pain and pleading. “Please don’t fight me, love. I’ve dreamed too long of this moment.”
His soft admission was her undoing. With a final whimper of defeat, her body softened beneath his, her lips accepting his kiss greedily. Her body yearned toward his, reminding her that she had long been without his touch and had craved it endlessly, even in Jean’s arms. . . .
She was lost. Lost in a world filled only with Reed and the desires he was stoking in her hungry body. Mindlessly, she called his name again and again. Exactly when he released her, she knew not, but her arms had found their way about his neck, locking him to her in desperate need. Just when she thought she would die for wanting him, he claimed her totally. It was as if they had both found a long-lost piece to a treasured puzzle. Kathleen’s breath caught in her throat, only to be returned as Reed groaned a sigh into her mouth. Then he was moving within her, and her hands were caressing his back and buttocks in urgent strokes. Passion flowed between them, and a rainbow of glorious colors swam before her closed lids, colors Kathleen had not dared dream of seeing again. The rapture built to unbearable limits, then broke, showering them with blinding ecstasy that blurred the brilliant hues into a kaleidoscope of swirling colors and emotions.
Kathleen lay quiet beneath him, trying to sort out the myriad emotions that swept over her, trying to pinpoint the exact moments she had surrendered her pride to him in exchange for passion. Deep inside, a voice cried out in protest, bringing forward all the lingering hurt and anger so easily shoved aside moments earlier.
When at length he moved to her side, she turned from him, showing him her back, tears stinging at her lids. Immediately, she found herself facing him once more, as he flipped her back around. “Don’t pull away from me, Kathleen,” he said. “It will do you no good to try to ignore me. I am here to stay, so you had best get used to it.” His brow lifted over measuring blue eyes. “You are mine, sugar, body and soul, and I will never let you go again.” After a significant pause, he added softly, but determinedly, “I'll never give you up to him!”
At his announcement, a part of Kathleen rejoiced, while yet another part of her mourned in silence.
In the golden glow of early dawn, Reed made love to her again. With slow, easy caresses, he drew Kathleen to awareness. In her sleep-fogged state, she was easy prey to his kisses, aware only of her love and long-buried need for this man who claimed her as his own. Even before her mind had cleared, she recognized the taste of his lips, the texture of his skin beneath her fingertips. As desire flared at his touch, there was no thought of resisting him, no place for hurt or anger in this golden moment.
As his hands wandered familiar paths, Kathleen returned his kisses hungrily, greedily claiming her due. When his lips left hers to sear their way down her throat, she tilted her head to give him easy access to points of pleasure, and when his mouth found the rosy peak of her breast, he found it aroused and pouting for his touch. A throaty moan escaped her parted lips as he suckled, and deep inside she felt a tingling of heightened desire. Her fingers laced into his midnight hair, as much to steady her rioting emotions as to encourage his gentle teasing.
A cry of protest when his lips left her breast, was replaced by an exclamation of rapture as he trailed feathery kisses across her abdomen to the silken triangle of her womanhood. He held her wriggling hips with strong, calloused hands as his mouth worked its magic, and soon she was crying out in delight, begging him to complete their union.
A sigh of intense pleasure greeted him as he met her request, thrusting deeply into her moist warmth. “Love me, kitten,” he groaned.
“I do, darling,” she replied on a sigh. “I do, Reed!”
Whispered words of love drowned them, even as they cascaded over a bounding waterfall into a calmer, sunlit pool of repletion. As they lay quietly entwined, their breath and heartbeats slowly returning to normal, Kathleen knew she was totally his once more. In surrendering her body so wholly, she had handed Reed her soul. Regardless of the anguish it might bring her, no matter what lay ahead, there was no turning back. The passion they once had shared was still there, and though they were like strangers in some ways, they would find their way forward together, fitting together the broken bits of their lives, and perhaps finding a love stronger than ever in the process. She hoped so. With all her heart, Kathleen hoped they could resolve their differences and revive all the trust and love they had once held so dear.
Feeling oddly shy and unsure of herself, Kathleen stood at the helm later that morning. When Reed came to stand behind her, she was amazed to find herself blushing like a bride.
“Do you want me to take over for a while?” he asked. His arms came about her, and his hands closed over hers on the wheel. As his fingers curled about hers, he lifted her left hand to his lips.
Unconscious of his frown, she answered, “If yo
u wish.”
His fingers nearly squeezed the blood from hers as he grasped her hand and brought it before her face. “What the hell is this?” he thundered.
Kathleen jumped involuntarily. A guilty flush stained her cheeks as she stared at the diamond and aquamarine ring Jean had given her. “It is—a—a ring,” she stammered stupidly.
“I know that!” he roared. “What I want to know is where it came from, who gave it to you, and what it is doing where my ring should be!”
Dismay choked her until she could barely speak. “Jean gave it to me—on my birthday,” she murmured.
“And you wear it on your left hand in place of your wedding ring?” he demanded. “Don’t play me for a fool, Kat! Tell me all of it!”
Kathleen swallowed hard. “We were engaged.” Her words were the barest of whispers, yet he heard.
Reed’s breath came out in a rush, as if he had received a blow to the stomach. “Damn!” A world of pain echoed in his voice. “Damn him! Damn you!”
Disregarding the fact that Kathleen was steering the frigate, Reed wrenched the offending ring from her finger, and with one mighty heave, tossed it overboard into the foaming sea.
A cry of dismay tore from her, and her hand reached out of its own accord, as if to recall the jewel from the ocean depths. “No! Oh, Reed!” she wailed. “Why did you have to do that? I would have given it back to him! I forgot I had it on! I forgot all about it!”
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