Then abruptly he turned to her with determination. Gently capturing her chin in his hand, he whispered her name and ignoring the servants’ stares, he kissed her. His lips were soft on hers, hesitant and questioning.
Catherine surrendered herself for only a moment before pulling away.
Not put off by her retreat, he looked at her through brooding eyes. “I love you, Catherine, and have since I first lay eyes upon you. I believe you know that.”
Yes, she knew. She saw it every time he looked for her across the great hall. She felt it every time he touched her. She heard it when he spoke her name. She knew his love was strong and undying. How could she not love this man? She watched the breeze blow the golden strands of his hair onto his face and the sunlight dance upon his hair. Her fingers trailed along the line of his jaw. He was everything a woman could want. Why was she unable to return the love he so freely gave?
He held her hand against his cheek, closing his eyes as if to absorb her touch. “I will wait for you, Catherine. Forever.”
Her brows furrowed together. Valiant, controlled, fierce, and commanding. To others Galen was all of these, but only Catherine knew the depth of his vulnerability and passion.
“Forever is a long time, Galen. You could grow tired of waiting for me.”
He took both her hands and held them between his own. “I have naught but time.” The passion in his eyes had dimmed a bit, tempered by concern. “Pray tell me. What is it that upsets you?”
Secrets had never been held from one another, but today she could not bring herself to share her uncertainty. How could she explain the feelings she had for another man?
She shook her head. “Tis nothing. I was thinking a bit about my mother.”
She could not look at him, lest he see another truth in her eyes.
Galen said nothing, but seemed to accept her answer.
She leaned against his arm and settled her head upon his shoulder. They sat together in silence, their thoughts separate from one another.
≈
Catherine hardly expected to find herself standing on the deck of the La Helena.
After the evening meal tonight, feeling entirely too restless, she had claimed a headache and begged to retire early. After instructing Emelie to lock Catherine’s chamber door, stay there, and not let anyone in, she had slipped out the kitchen, saddled her horse, and rode out the gates to the ocean. She felt compelled to go, her body and soul begging to see Jonathan one more time.
This can never be, her mind had argued. What of Galen?
Her body, still remembering the sensation Jonathan’s touch brought fourth, nudged her soul to speak. He makes me feel so alive. Do not deny me one more night. The battle had raged within, rooting her feet to where she had stood, under the trees, just beyond the port.
As if he sensed her presence, Jonathan stood on the deck, looking in her direction.
She had needed no further invitation to join him.
“I had never before realized how beautiful it is!” Catherine now stood against the ship’s railing, looking out over the ocean, its borders spreading beyond her imagination. The golden glow of the sun’s setting rays warmed her face and a light breeze caught wisps of her hair, the strands teasing the edges of her face. “I understand why you love it so.”
Jonathan, leaning on one elbow against the rail, studied her. “Aye, she is beautiful.” He gently pushed the loose tendrils away from her face. “She holds many mysteries and many moods. Sometimes predictable, most often times not, but she is what she is. That is why she is so enchanting.”
Whether his words were speaking of her or his beloved sea, she could not be sure, but it was his intimacy that brought a blush to her cheeks. His strong hands, accustomed to heavy labor, were surprisingly gentle as he touched her face. Her mind, still struggling to gain control, refused to give in to her desire to take his hands in hers. She stepped just out of his reach, breaking the bridge of heat that was growing between them. She focused on the expanse of the water. “Why do you sail, Jonathan? Why a life at sea?”
Jonathan’s gaze lingered upon her a bit longer before he faced the ocean again. He stood with his arms braced against the rail, contemplating her question.
As the silence grew, she dared to look at him. He looked beyond the water, seeing something she could not. She mentally traced the straight line of his nose and the strong line of his jaw. The breeze held back his hair, revealing his smooth, sun-darkened skin. For the first time she noticed the small loop that adorned his ear. Tonight he wore a shirt dyed of black to match the only other piece of jewelry he wore, a simple gold ring in which was set a black stone.
He finally broke the silence. “Perhaps to be closer to what I love, far from that which I prefer to avoid.” He turned back to her and challenged her with his own question. “What of you, Lady Catherine? Have you traveled far from your father’s lands?”
“I have never had a desire to,” she admitted. “I have my home, my family…” And Galen, her mind added. She sighed. What is it, truly, that makes me hold on so? Her eyes searched the waters below as if to find an answer there, but in her heart she knew the truth. She spoke in a voice so quiet, even she was unsure she said it. “Perhaps I am afraid.”
Jonathan moved to stand behind her and wrap his arms around her waist. Her body tensed as she felt his powerful chest against her back, coaxing the heat to rise once more.
“Look out there, Catherine,” he said against her ear. “Breathe it all in. Freedom is yours for the taking. The sea gives so freely and asks for nothing in return.” Fierce passion gripped his words. “Take it Catherine! She will give you life!”
Catherine’s chest swelled as she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She imagined the warm salty air flowing through her veins, awakening a need within her she thought had died long ago. She had the urge to laugh, to cry, to dance, to live!
She was driven back to the moment by Jonathan’s kiss. His lips brushed her neck and her shoulders, tender, inviting, and promising. The smoldering heat now exploded into a flame, weakening her knees - and her will. A strangled protest died on her lips, singed by the very fire that consumed her now, as she melted deeper into Jonathan’s arms.
He tightened his hold around her as he whispered, “Do not be afraid, milady. Please. Never be afraid.”
Chapter 13
Eryn was disgusted with herself. A glutton for punishment, she thought. Not only was she still annoyed at Brandi for being so obnoxious last night, but she was even more annoyed with herself for not canceling lunch today.
Sitting across from Brandi, Eryn watched her friend rattle on about all the injustices the world dished out, making her existence so difficult, waving her fork to punctuate each word. Eryn glanced at her watch. They had already been here an hour and Brandi’s plate was still half full. Eryn sighed.
The sound of the pounding waves was muted by the windows that stood between the outdoor patio and the beach. Out there, under the glare of the sun, Eryn mused, life rolled out moment by moment, in perfect rhythm, with no pretences. The seagulls stole food, sandpipers poked deep for sand crabs, and beachgoers used their bodies or boards to mold with the waves. Absolute perfection.
On this side of the glass, it was a different kind of perfection. Conversation hummed with polite, meaningless words, napkins dabbed at meticulously painted lips, and glasses were filled with imported beers and wine. This was the place to be seen. A place where people paid just as much attention to others in the room as to themselves. It was all about image.
Eryn noticed a new arrival at the door. “Well, look who’s here,” she murmured, straightening up, relieved by the distraction, regardless of who it was.
Brandi whipped around in her seat to look and turned back even quicker, recognizing him right away. She swallowed her food and wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin. “Not married, right?”
Eryn shook her head.
“Good. Do I have any food in my teeth?” Brandi leaned fo
rward and bared her bleach-white teeth.
Giving her a cursory glance, Eryn again shook her head and looked back at the door.
Troy stood in the doorway, scanning the room. It didn’t seem to matter where he was or what he wore, Eryn thought. He always looked so comfortable. So sure of himself. No, she corrected herself. Smug is a better word to describe his attitude.
When he finally saw Eryn, his face broke into a smile. He wasted no time in getting to their table. “Hey, how’s my favorite photographer?” Leaning in, he kissed her cheek and whispered, “Beautiful as ever.”
Eryn ignored his comment. “Troy, you remember Brandi from the party, don’t you?” She gestured across the table.
As if realizing for the first time there was someone else there, he looked at Brandi and tilted his head a bit, trying to remember. “Oh yeah. You were with Dylan Branson, right?”
“Not really with him. Just talking with him.” Brandi quickly made the distinction, but Troy didn’t seem to notice.
He grabbed an empty chair from the next table and placed it between the two women and sat down.
“Will you excuse me a moment?” Brandi grabbed her purse and with a lingering look over her shoulder at Troy, she sauntered toward the bathroom.
Troy leaned back in his chair, lazily roaming his eyes over Eryn. He smiled approvingly.
“So.” Eryn broke the silence. “Did your mother like the canvas?”
He blinked and politely focused on her question. “Absolutely. So much so that the picture got the best position in her office.” He held up his hands, indicating a place up high. “Now she wants that family portrait we talked about to hang above the fireplace at the house.” His eyes brightened. “Looks like I’ll have to hire you again after all.”
“Sure, no problem.” Her answer was a reflex, but then she wondered how Bryce would handle it. She twirled her wedding ring on her finger unconsciously. How could she tell Bryce without causing a riff in their lives again? “Your family. Just you and your dog, right?”
“Why? You interested in changing that?” He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees, his blue eyes filled with suggestion.
That unnerving feeling of being hunted sharpened her senses. She ignored his implication. “I just thought if you weren’t seeing anybody seriously, you might want to ask Brandi out.”
He looks over towards the door where Brandi had gone through, looked back at Eryn and shook his head. “Not really my type. Actually, I’d rather ask you out.”
Eryn’s mouth dropped. She held up her hand to show her ring. “Hello?”
That little detail hardly put him off. “Oh, yeah. Bryce. My foe.” He reached for her hand and inspected her ring, then gently guided it back to the table. “He doesn’t like me too much, does he?” He leaned back in his chair, contemplating Eryn “He has every right to be concerned. He has a prize worth protecting.”
Before Eryn could say anything, Brandi appeared and plopped herself back in her chair, looking back and forth between the two, her eyes wide with curiosity and anticipation. “So, what did I miss?”
Troy was the first to react. “Hey, Brandi, are you doing anything Friday night?” His eyes never left Eryn, a mischievous grin growing.
She felt a sense of impending doom.
Brandi brightened up, oblivious to the fact that Eryn and Troy were still staring at each other. “Friday? I’ll have to check my schedule, but I’ll be sure to free it up.”
Troy glanced at Brandi, taking a moment to look her over before nodding. “Maybe we could double date.” He turned back to Eryn, his brows raised. “Eryn?” It seemed more of a statement than a question.
Now they were both staring at Eryn, waiting for an answer. The doom wasn’t impending any more. It was here and now.
Eryn looked at her friend, who could barely control the pleading in her eyes, and at Troy. Damn him! He knows that if I want him to take Brandi out, I’ll have to agree to the double date.
Brandi was already grabbing a scrap of paper out of her purse and scribbling her number on it.
“I’ll have to check with Bryce.” Eryn hedged, giving her some time to figure out exactly what she had gotten herself into.
Chapter 14
“Sir, a young lady is asking to see you.”
“Lady Catherine?” Jonathan stood up from where he was crouched on the deck, coiling thick braids of rope. He glanced down the wide expanse of the ship’s deck.
The pale blue sky held streaks of soft orange and red from the rising sun, creating a ceiling over the still sleeping waters of the blue-green sea. A morning breeze was gaining strength, promising a strong hand for the crew of La Helena.
“Nay,” said Cedric. “I believe…”
“You are truly leaving, Master Jonathan?” Catherine’s sister stepped out from behind Cedric.
“Sara?”
Cedric’s hands splayed in a gesture of helplessness. “My apologies, sir. She was insistent that she needed to speak with you.” Cedric turned and scowled down at Sara. “She said it was important.”
“It is fine, Cedric.” Jonathan clapped Cedric’s shoulder. “I will see her. You go on below with the rest of the men.”
“Are you alone?” he asked when the crewmen had gone.
She looked behind her and dramatically exhaled. “Yes. Everyone has been so busy entertaining Lord Oakley they seemed to have forgotten about me.” Her bottom lip pouted.
“Forgotten about you? I find that hard to believe,” he laughed.
She sidled up beside Jonathan, leaning close enough to touch his arm. Her eyes glistened with moisture. “Oh, but they do. They dismiss me so thoroughly that sometimes I wonder if I can be seen at all.”
Jonathan looked down at Sara, a skeptical grin playing at the corners of his mouth.
She stood wantonly close, her shoulders thrust back, her bodice cut dangerously low.
He stepped back. “Why are you here, Sara?”
She reached up and patted her hair that she had so meticulously piled upon her head. “Because I believe we seek the same thing. We are lonely and we need someone to love us.”
“I do not believe I ever said I was lonely, Sara.”
“There is no need to be coy, Jonathan. I know we need each other.” She reached up to trail a finger down the front of his shirt. He deftly grabbed her wrist and held it away.
Anger flashed in her eyes and she sneered. “If my sister cared for you, would she not be here? Mayhap at this moment she is enjoying Sir Galen’s touch.” She smiled, pleased when she saw Jonathan’s jaw clench.
She stepped closer and stared into his eyes, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I am here, Jonathan. She is not. We are both lonely. Please, take me. Let me sail with you.” She seductively touched the lace of her bodice, enticing him to look, but his eyes never left hers.
“Sara, as tempting as your offer is, it will never be that way for us.”
Batting her eyelashes, her eyes wide with innocence, she said, “Do you not find me attractive, Jonathan?”
“Indeed, Sara, but...”
Without a word Sara flung her arms around his neck and kissed him hard, her lips pressed fiercely against his.
Jonathan immediately grabbed her wrists and pried her off, holding her at arm’s length. No longer were the lines around his eyes soft and laughing. “As I was saying, Lady Sara, you are most attractive, but there is more to it than attraction. Pleasures of the body must be paired with the longing of the heart.”
Her glistening eyes betrayed her hurt and frustration, and her small bosom rose and fell with her angry breaths. She yanked her wrists from his grasp and stood glaring up at him, hands clenched in tight fists at her sides.
Jonathan continued, “You deserve someone who will love you, not just bed you, and that someone cannot, and will not, be me.”
Tears spilled over, staining her cheeks. Her foot came down hard on the deck. “No one will love me. Everyone loves dear, sweet Catherine. I will just
grow up to be an old spinster.”
Jonathan wiped away the tears that trickled down her face. “I doubt that very much.” His voice softened again. He tilted her chin up so she would look at him. “You will find someone.”
“No, I will not!” she spat out. “Oh! Catherine will live to regret this!” She spun away and ran across the deck, her slippers pounding.
Cedric and three other crew members scrambled above deck.
“Sir! Is everything alright?”
Jonathan sighed and nodded his head at Sara’s departing figure. “Cedric, follow her at a distance to see that she arrives to the castle safely. I do not want her to do something foolish.”
≈
“You said once that you thought me to be beautiful.” A deep breath steadied her voice. Do you still believe that to be true?” Sara stood in the doorway of the hawk mew. Her silhouette filled the doorway, her hair now flowing around her shoulders.
Lord Oakley slowly turned around at the sound of her voice. Facing her fully, his eyes slithered hungrily down Sara’s body, digesting the implication of her unexpected presence there.
“My dear Sara,” he said with velvety smoothness. He extended his hand, inviting her to approach him.
She stepped into the room and placed her hand in his.
Drawing her closer, he reached behind her to close the door.
Her thin body startled at the sound of the latch sliding into place. The mew was dark with only the early morning sunlight seeping through the windows high above. She fought the shiver that ran up and down her spine and glanced at the bolted door. She was trapped now.
No, she reminded herself. Not trapped, for this is what she wanted. This is why she came here, was it not?
Lord Oakley turned her face towards him, his fingers light on her chin. “I meant every word then as I do now.” Gathering a handful of her hair, he placed it to his nose and inhaled deeply. “So fresh.” He fondled it between his thin fingers. “So soft.” He reached for the lace of her bodice and lingered there, reveling in her slight tremble. “So very, very...womanly.” He whispered the last word with the smooth voice of a hunter knowing his prey was within his grasp.
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