by Howe, Cheryl
“Your actions are reprehensible, legal or not. My father would be horrified.”
“Yes, he would. I don’t think you want that. And if you spread the news of your discovery, who knows how many of my other reprehensible acts will turn up? Guilt by association is an unfair practice, but all too common. Men have hanged for less.”
“You said you didn’t want to hurt my father. Do you actually believe I could sit by and let you continue your treachery against his good name?”
Her color rose with her pitch, but she managed to keep her anger under control. He could only assume she had more common sense when her father was in jeopardy rather than herself.
“No, Felicity. I have a proposition I think we can both live with, and I mean that figuratively, of course.” He couldn’t resist giving her one of his most wicked smiles. “You’ll keep your beautiful mouth shut and I’ll never try to contact your father again. I’ll stay out of his life completely and relinquish all claims to the New England Trading Company.”
She sat straighter in her chair. He could only imagine how she’d longed to hear those precise words roll off his tongue. She’d probably prefer him on his knees, but this was the best she would get.
In her eagerness, she scooted to the edge of her seat. “You’ll sign a statement to that effect?”
“If you want. What name would you like me to use?” She drew her brows together and assessed him from the corner of one eye.
He shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter if I sign a document or not. I don’t want my true name revealed in Barbados any more than you want your father associated with my horrid deeds. If I were you, I wouldn’t even tell Ben. It would only hurt him. But that’s entirely up to you.”
She studied the sleek tabletop. The tightness around her full lips hinted at her inward battle. When she finally met his gaze, her brown eyes were clear and sure. To his surprise, she reached out her hand to him. “You stay away from my father and I’ll keep your secrets.”
He grasped her hand, giving it a firm squeeze, then a shake, unable to resist holding her soft hand longer than necessary. This was the first time she’d voluntarily touched him skin to skin. It signified a beginning, but of what he didn’t dare dwell on. A slight tug on her part won her instant release.
Felicity returned her concentration to the contents of her cup, but he noticed her shiver. The temperature in the cabin sweltered. The tropical sun heated everything that had been drenched by the rain to an unbearable intensity. Perhaps the heat only affected him, and for reasons other than the humidity.
“Are you feeling all right? You’re not chilled?” He stood to leave, reminding himself of his many duties, like getting his ship to their home port before his men started to eat the sails, or worse, each other.
“I’m fine.” After an extended examination, she sipped the tea, then winced. “You can take this. I’m not all that hungry.” She nudged the tray in his direction.
He pushed it back, rattling the cup and bowl. “If I take it away, someone will eat it. Probably me. I want it all gone before I come back.”
“But I’m not hungry and it doesn’t smell very good.”
“You will be before the day is over, and that’s all the food we have. Your unscheduled passage has left me at a loss. I didn’t have the foresight to bring her highness’s favorite dishes.”
“I didn’t ask for special treatment.”
“No, you just demanded it. Nothing like a sick woman in your bed to get your attention.”
“Please, I’ve thanked you already.” Her pinched expression wavered between annoyance and embarrassment. She pushed the tray toward him a second time. “Here. You eat it. I can wait until you take me home.”
“Felicity, you haven’t eaten in two days. If the wind doesn’t pick up, it might be two more.” He walked toward the door without the tray.
“Two days? I’ve been here for two days?” Her head sank into her hands. He stopped and watched her struggle to account for the lost time.
“I’ll get you home as soon as I can. Get some rest. That bump on your head must still hurt.” He wrestled with the urge to comfort her. His struggle ended with the realization that conscious, she wasn’t nearly as pliable. To force her to rest, he’d probably have to wrestle her into bed. With that all too enticing thought, he strode to the door.
“Drew?”
Her call stopped him before he could slip into the hall. When she said his name again, the same shiver of pleasure crawled up his spine.
He grinned. “You must have begun to like me a little. You’re calling me by my first name.”
“I don’t like you at all. It’s just that I’m not used to your real name, and Drew is what my father called you.” The way she avoided his gaze while she stumbled over her words gave him the impression she did care for him more than she let on.
Maybe she wouldn’t mind being wrestled into bed. He had to get out of the cabin before the idea took root. Before he could escape, he caught her striding toward the door. The thin cloth of her chemise clung to her thighs and molded against the curve of her hips. He had no choice but to stare like the hungry letch he was.
She brought her arms across her chest. “Where are the rest of my clothes?”
She was aware of her state of undress after all. Apparently, she wore masks as expertly as he.
“I’m sorry, Felicity. Your clothes were ruined. I tossed them overboard. You were sick all over everything. I tried—”
“I understand.” She stopped him before he could go into further detail. “You’ll need to find something else for me to wear when I leave the ship. What I have on is fine for now”—she tugged on the scooped neckline of her chemise and turned away from him—“as it’s miserable in here.”
His smile widened at her attempt to reduce her flimsy attire as having no consequence except in practical terms. Could she truly be blind to her blatant seductiveness in the thin chemise? Just in case, he decided to remind her.
“Don’t leave this cabin. Believe it or not, there are worse fiends walking this ship than myself. They might find your attire appealing for reasons besides its suitability for this cabin’s heat.”
She nodded, then turned away. He paused before closing the door to savor the enticing outline that view provided. Oh, but she did have curves.
In the companionway leading to the main deck, he whistled. As he passed the galley, he ignored the grumbling of his crew and the hunger gnawing at his own belly. The tightness in his breeches was something he couldn’t ignore. Confrontations with Felicity Kendall had left him exhilarated from their first meeting. This encounter proved to be no exception. Even when she was at his mercy, she came out fighting. But his opponent had lost one of her defenses.
His emergence from the deck below surrounded him with white-hot sunshine. He shielded his gaze and studied the brilliant blue cloudless sky. Not a single breeze disturbed the grandeur of the steamy tropical day. A sailor’s curse. Drew snatched the black bundle of cloth drying over a mast. As he threw the garments into the calm turquoise sea, he thought his luck might have changed after all.
Chapter Six
Felicity clutched together the lapels of the wool jacket she’d draped over her shoulders and sank onto the silk cushions banking the panel of windows at the stern. The single ship that bobbed in the turquoise cove appeared to be the small island’s only resident. She tried to quell her rising panic at the fact that they’d not arrived in Barbados.
When she’d awoken to find dawn creeping across her bed, she noticed the man’s jacket draped at her feet and assumed she would be eating breakfast at her father’s table. As the day grew hotter and her hunger stronger, she could do nothing but lie on the big bed and question her fate. She was dealing with a criminal, after all.
Still, she found it difficult to reconcile Drew Crawford with Lord Christian Andrews. Somehow, the polished persona of Lord Christian had worried her more than the rough, self-admitted charlatan who had undressed her and
been her nursemaid. She fingered her coat’s frayed lapel, turning it up to bury her nose in its masculine fragrance of musk, sea and untamable wind. The garment had to belong to Drew. His presence stormed her senses and sent ripples of awareness across her skin.
The Sea Mistress glided deeper into the hidden cove’s green-sloped arms. Sunlight turned the water’s surface a living carpet of molten gold. Palm trees sprang from a pristine white beach. The clear blue water turned pale green, then liquid crystal as it caressed the shores with rhythmic whispers. The island’s sensual beauty threatened to seduce her as effectively as a whiff from Drew’s jacket. Realizing the danger she was in, Felicity stood and paced the confines of the cabin instead.
What did Drew plan on doing with her? He had mentioned his need for discretion. Perhaps he planned to persuade one of his disreputable associates, the owner of the lone ship, to return her to Barbados. The thought chilled her. Drew might be no better than a common criminal, but he was a known evil. Further harm to her tarnished virtue might not be the greatest threat she might have to face, after all.
She returned to the padded bench in front of the window. The sinking sun threw its last powerful rays across the water, dropping a burnished gold veil over the cove. But then the idyllic sunset she braced herself against changed to something altogether more frightening. Men filed onto the virgin beach, looming like wild beasts in the orange glow. Finding the island deserted would have disturbed her less than the decidedly uncivilized inhabitants ruining the sand’s white luster.
The ship’s steady slide to shore brought sword-wielding ruffians, worse than any of the usual harbor rats she’d seen before, into heart-stopping clarity. Through the tangles of their unkempt hair, an occasional gold earring caught the light.
Answering jeers and shouts drifted from the deck above. Scathing taunts from Drew’s crew blistered Felicity’s ears but sounded unmistakably friendly. Clanking metal and scurrying footsteps drowned out some of the overly descriptive greetings.
In the purple haze between dusk and dark, the light of a lantern guided a launch to shore. Immediately, she recognized Drew in the front of the small boat. Torches had been lit on the beach and the throng of beast-like men awaited his arrival. When he reached the shore, they surrounded him. He took command, his broad back straight and forbidding against the wild, licking flames that outlined him in an unearthly haze.
His tangled, shoulder-length mane enhanced his role as leader of the pack. If he peeled off his shirt he’d be one of them. No, he wouldn’t be one of them. He’d still be their captain or king or whatever he was to these fiends. Which meant he was more dangerous than the most savage of the unruly lot.
A hollow silence drifted down from the decks above. She’d been abandoned on the empty ship. A dull headache wrapped around her skull. She attributed it to hunger and couldn’t help wondering whether Drew and his clan planned an exotically hedonistic feast. Perhaps they'd sacrifice a virgin. For once, she found the bright side of her little indiscretion. She paced the room, allowing anger as a welcome replacement to her anxiety.
Drew had never mentioned she was to be his prisoner. To ensure he knew that, she wouldn’t await his instructions like a helpless captive. She slipped her arms through Drew’s coat and secured its two buttons over her chemise. The garment, designed to fall to the top of a man’s knees, covered her to mid-shin. Decently shielded from lecherous eyes, she strode intently, if not altogether confidently, to the door.
She stopped after one tentative step into the companionway. A knocking against the ship’s side muffled the distinctive splashing of water. She listened intently, almost convincing herself it was nothing but a loose rigging, but at the same time finding it hard to breathe.
The noise began to inch its way up the ship’s side. She darted back into the cabin. After she yanked the portal shut, she frantically looked for a weapon or a place to hide. The wardrobe in the corner mocked her as she glanced its way. She wouldn’t use that option again.
Heavy footfalls approached the cabin in a rhythm she didn’t recognize as Drew’s. The easy opening of the cabin’s door silenced her frantic thoughts. A dark shadow slipped into the room, whisking away any hope of escape.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t Drew. The stranger was not as tall, but wider, thicker. He stood as solid as a tree stump.
“Miss Kendall, do not be afraid. My name is Solomon. The captain sent me to take you to the other ship,” said the shadow.
“I’m not afraid,” responded Felicity before she’d decided whether she was or not. Solomon’s voice resounded deep and rich like molasses. His crisp pronunciation went a long way to dispel the picture of the beastly creatures crowding her mind.
“You should be afraid, Miss Kendall. Take my hand. We must hurry.”
“I’d like to speak to the captain, please.” She hoped she sounded stern but polite. Crisp pronunciation or not, she wasn’t going anywhere with this new threat.
Warm fingers wrapped around her wrist, followed by a tug that pulled her forward, proved he had other plans. “I don’t have time to accommodate your insolence. I’ve been ordered to move you to the other ship before the others come aboard.”
Solomon dragged her through the portal and down the passageway. In light of his revelation, she agreed with his decision to leave. When the thugs lurking on the island overran this ship, she wanted to be on the other vessel. Though she didn’t like his manner, common sense urged that she follow quietly.
Solomon helped her up the steps leading to the main deck, touching her as stiffly as if she were covered in wet varnish. Why had Drew sent this rude man to take her onboard the other ship? Did he find her as inconvenient as Solomon obviously did? The fact that the very idea hurt her feelings warned her all over again that she mustn’t let Drew slide further past her defenses than he already had.
When she reached the open deck, she took her first breath of fresh air in what seemed like an eternity. A warm breeze brushed her cheek and rustled her hair. She shuddered, drinking in the sweet summer air. With the men and torches gone from the beach, the night-enshrouded island rivaled the golden seductiveness of late afternoon. Stars dusted the tropical paradise with a soft white glow. The reflection in the water shimmered with the illusion of a thousand fallen celestial bodies. A large sliver of moon draped an incandescent path across the lagoon.
She wrapped her arms around herself and turned up her face to the sky, bathing in rays of silver light. Her hand absently caressed her arm though the wool of Drew’s jacket. Bursts of liquid sensation spread though her body, pooling in her most private recesses.
She turned to find Solomon, needing conversation to distract herself from the euphoria conjured by this mystical place. Her every nerve ending tingled. Fingers of sea breeze slithered under Drew’s long jacket and crawled up the backs of her legs, intimately touching places she’d forgotten existed. She would have believed Drew had cast a spell on her if she didn’t already know her own secret weaknesses were boiling too close to the surface.
“Solomon?” She heard the taut edge of panic in her own voice.
Solomon had been bent over, untangling something on the deck. When he stood to face her, she saw him clearly for the first time. Even with the infusion of light from the star-strewn sky, his features receded into the night. The dark blue of his silk brocade jacket and vest were a few shades lighter than his skin. Black pants covered his stocky legs and his black boots were well polished, catching bits of soft starlight.
“We’ll wrap you in this and I’ll lower you to the launch.” Solomon held up a net. He began to walk toward her with the obvious intention of throwing the dirty mesh over her head. If his approach had not distracted her from her gawking, she would have been bagged like an oversized fish.
“That is a terrible idea. The net might break.” She hoped her logic dissuaded him.
The only dark-skinned people she knew were slaves. She’d seen the written proof of Drew’s inhumane practices, but flesh-and-bl
ood evidence shocked her all over again. Drew had to know she’d be furious if he sent a slave to do his bidding. Surely he hadn’t forgotten their conversation at Linley Hall. Obviously, her opinion of him didn’t matter. His caring had only gone as far as her physical illness, and she’d been fool enough to interpret it as more than what it was.
“You’re a slave.”
He stiffened, and she realized the insensitivity of her comment. She meant the censor in her voice for Drew’s actions, not to demean Solomon.
“I’m the quartermaster of this ship.” Thinly veiled hostility replaced his cool politeness.
He stepped toward her and grabbed her waist. Before Felicity thought to pull away, he swung her impersonally over his shoulder like a sack of flour. He strode to the side of the ship, and for a moment she had the unsettling notion he meant to toss her overboard.
“This was my second choice.” He climbed over the ship’s side and made his way down a rope ladder. She squirmed, trying to get him to put her down. He halted his swift and sure-footed descent. “Please stay still. If I drop you, the captain will not be pleased.”
The white foam lapping at the ship looked less crystalline and more deep and murky from her view several feet above the water. Blood rushed to her head, making it pound all over again. Breath squeezed from her lungs with Solomon’s every movement. Putting a poultice on his animosity for her reigned in her mind.
“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, Solomon,” she squeaked. “Maybe I can help.” Speaking proved difficult in her undignified position. His indignant grunt stopped further commentary.
“It seems to me you’re the one in need of help. I think you’d fare far better in our company if you would remember that.”
Silence followed the rest of their descent to the rowboat waiting at the waterline. Solomon set Felicity on her feet, and the small craft lurched violently. She clutched his shoulders, suddenly thankful one of her childhood demands had involved learning to swim with her brother. That battle she’d won.