No Choice but Seduction

by Johanna Lindsey

  She also had her own coach now, thanks to Roslynn Malory, and a luxurious one at that. She had her own driver now, too. John Tobby was a strapping fellow in his midthirties. He claimed to be a good shot, and good with his fists as well. And as big as he was, he could be quite intimidating if need be. Which might just be needed, since he’d agreed to act as her guard as well as her driver. She’d made sure of that before hiring him. And hiring him had been too easy. That she was taking him around the world with her had been an incentive, rather than a deterrent. She wasn’t the only one who wanted to see more of the world.

  Unfortunately, John might not last for the duration. He’d never sailed before, and he wasn’t the only one they hadn’t seen since the start of the voyage. The poor man had been beset with a terrible bout of seasickness before they even reached the English Channel. Which had Grace moping about. The maid had been enjoying some friendly flirtation with John, which was cut off abruptly when he barricaded himself in his cabin. She, too, had realized that he might abandon them now as soon as they reached a port. Especially since he already knew they would be doing a lot of sailing.

  Katey sighed to herself. She stood at the rail alone, spyglass in hand. They had sailed through the Strait of Gibraltar early that morning. Captain Reynolds had given her the spyglass that very first day at sea, telling her he’d keep the ship as close to the coastlines of the countries they passed as the shoals would allow so she could view them. They had made good time, the wind quite cooperative. The weather was already noticeably warmer, too, enough that she no longer needed to bundle up to stand there at the rail for hours at a time, as she’d been doing each day.

  The spyglass had been a nice gesture, but after the first day of using it, it wasn’t nearly as entertaining. The landscape began to all look the same, rocky coasts, beaches, and lots and lots of trees. Those had at least been interesting along the north half of France, which like England, had been filled with autumn colors, but everything was still green farther south. Then there were only fishing villages to break the monotony, or the occasional coastal town that she couldn’t really see much of through a spyglass.

  It didn’t take long for Katey’s particular brand of creativity to kick in and she was seeing things through the spyglass that weren’t really there. She saw the Millards’ parlor again. An old, kindly-faced woman was there this time, sitting on the sofa with her, the grandmother she hadn’t got to meet. She was holding Katey’s hand and telling her childhood tales about her mother. And her aunt Letitia was on her other side, smiling, laughing, a completely different woman from the one Katey had actually met. She’d apologized profusely for her previous nasty reception, explaining that she’d thought someone had been playing a cruel joke on her, that she hadn’t believed Katey was really who she’d said she was.

  This meeting went so differently it brought tears to Katey’s eyes. It was merely her imagination, yet it filled her with such profound feelings, because it was what she had wanted so badly to happen, to have the only family she had left really be a family for her, a loving family. And because it was never going to happen now, she’d cried herself to sleep that night and didn’t let the Millards into her daydreams again.

  Which had Boyd showing up quite often after that on the other side of her looking glass. She even came up with a perfectly good reason for his absence during those first four days. It certainly wasn’t seasickness the way her driver was suffering, though that was the first thing to occur to her. But Boyd was a shipowner. He wouldn’t sail with his vessel if he was prone to that malady, now would he? No, she had him laid low by something as simple as a cold that turned so severe overnight that he was now running such a high fever that it made him delirious. And the ship’s doctor, Philips she’d thought was his name, couldn’t sit with him day and night, so she’d been asked to share some of that duty.

  Cold compresses, warm sponge baths. She took liberties she would never think to take if it were anything other than one of her risqué fantasies. Of course she was there when he finally woke up, miraculously without clammy skin or sweaty hair, perfectly healthy and staring at her with those velvety brown eyes.

  He put a hand to her cheek. She didn’t move out of his reach. She tilted her head toward his touch.

  “Do I owe you my life?”

  “No—well, maybe a little.”

  She grinned. She would have had him do the same, but she’d so rarely seen him grin. He was usually so intensely serious around her, so filled with passions that weren’t exactly amusing. So she couldn’t quite imagine him grinning. But she didn’t need to. In her fantasy, it was enough that she knew he wanted to.

  “Then let me express my gratitude.”

  She held her breath as he drew her down for a gentle kiss, but their lips didn’t touch yet. With her leaning forward, it was an easy matter for him to pull her over him, all the way to the other side of his bed. She was now lying beside him with him leaning over her, and damn, she did manage to give him a grin, though it was a wicked one. And that was fine. He was going to kiss her. She waited for it with bated breath. She was already feeling that thrill again that only he had ever made her feel.

  It was powerful when it happened. Too powerful, as if it were really happening. Anticipation. That’s all it was for her, because she’d never been kissed for real, so she had nothing in her mind to repeat or let her know how she should be feeling, just wishful assumptions of how it would be if Boyd did ever kiss her. But, oh, my, for that alone to stir her senses so much…

  “Will you join us for lunch, Miss Tyler? We should discuss our first port, now that we’ve reached the Mediterranean.”

  Usually she could snap right out of a daydream when reality called, but not this time. It took several long moments and a deep breath before she was calm enough to glance aside at Tyrus Reynolds, who had come to stand next to her at the rail. She was used to the captain’s booming voice now, enough that it no longer startled her. A middle-aged man with black hair and gray eyes, bushy brows, and a beard, he was actually slightly shorter than she was.

  “Us?”

  “Yes. Boyd asked me to extend the invitation to you.”

  “He’s still with us? I was beginning to wonder.”

  Her tart reply brought a slight grin to his lips. “At noon then in my cabin?”

  “Certainly.”

  He returned to the quarterdeck. She returned to using her spyglass. She had expected invitations of that sort sooner. She and the other passengers on the Atlantic crossing had taken most of their meals in the captain’s cabin with him. It was a common courtesy, since his was the largest cabin on the ship. But she hadn’t been invited until now, which was quite odd, now that she thought about it.

  Chapter 29

  THE CABIN WAS EXACTLY as Katey remembered it, comfortable, carpeted, the seats plush, without the stiffness of being new. It was a room designed for work, but also designed for entertainment. The dining table was long enough to seat ten. Occasionally The Oceanus had transported only passengers, with little cargo. There was a small section for musical performances in the corner with three chairs, a harp, and a glass-faced cabinet that held an assortment of musical instruments. The captain himself played the harp. One of his officers was handy with a cittern. On the Atlantic crossing, one of the passengers had had a splendid voice and joined them most evenings, providing excellent entertainment.

  Katey had wondered before, why Boyd didn’t claim this larger cabin for himself. Being the owner of the ship, he no doubt could have. Of course she had no idea what his cabin looked like. It could be just as large as this one for all she knew.

  Her own cabin was a decent size this time around. Very little bumping into things if she was careful, which hadn’t been the case before. There was enough room for the full-size bed, the wardrobe, a bureau, a small table with four chairs, and her clothes trunks. There was even a bookcase filled with an assortment of reading material she’d been pleased to find. She guessed the room was reserved for
special passengers, which she supposed was an apt description of her on this voyage.

  She entered Tyrus’s cabin relaxed. That ended abruptly as soon as she clapped eyes on Boyd sitting next to the captain. Both men wore jackets, but that was the extent of their formal attire.

  American men could dress impeccably, but they tended not to fancy themselves up with frilly cravats and lacy cuffs as the English gentry did. With Boyd, however, she had a feeling he’d look magnificent to her no matter what he wore, simply because she found him so handsome. That gold-streaked hair, the darker slash of brows, the even darker brown eyes that could be so expressive they provoked her senses to unrecognized heights, and, oh my, his mouth, the thin upper lip, the full, supple lower one, lips she’d caught herself staring at much too frequently on that first voyage. Her attraction to him should have been severely tempered after what he’d done, but it was still there and still just as strong.

  If she didn’t have so much on her agenda, plans she was not giving up, things might be different. If marriage was a part of those plans, she might not fight so much what this man could make her feel. She could enjoy a mild flirtation here and there, to add a little spice to her travels, as long as she didn’t take any of it seriously. But not with Boyd Anderson. She’d sensed from the start that a flirtation with him would get her burned. She had no doubt of it.

  The tension she was feeling now that she was in Boyd’s presence again annoyed her though. She was also still miffed that he’d more or less hidden himself away from her until now. She should have been grateful that he was going to keep his distance, but it was quite demoralizing to be ignored when she wasn’t expecting to be ignored.

  Both men had stood up at her entrance. Tyrus pulled out a chair to seat her. A crewman from the galley was there to serve them and was even semiformally dressed in a waistcoat. He offered her a napkin with one arm, a salad with the other, then left the room to return to the galley for the next course.

  Katey picked up her fork before she glanced at Boyd again. His eyes hadn’t left her since her arrival, but at least he was keeping his look impersonal enough to not embarrass her.

  “You look a bit peaked,” she told him. “Have you been sick?”

  She could have bit her tongue out. That damned fantasy was still in her mind, obviously. But did she have to sound concerned?

  “No!”

  He said it too quickly and too forcefully. She lifted a brow over that reaction, but realized he might be just as tense as she was, so she made an effort to at least put one of them at ease.

  “Actually it’s gone,” she said, and it was. “There’s ample color in your cheeks now. Must have been an odd reflection of the light.”

  Tyrus cleared his throat and introduced a neutral subject. “Will you have wine with lunch, Miss Tyler, or wait until dinner before partaking?”

  “I’m invited to dinner tonight?”

  “Certainly. Consider it an open invitation for the voyage.”

  She smiled in concurrence. He’d probably just been giving her a chance to get her “sea legs,” as she’d heard it called, before doing any socializing. And that’s what dinners with the captain were, the only real chance to socialize at sea.

  Another crewman showed up, though this one wasn’t from the galley. He bent down to whisper something to Tyrus, who immediately stood up.

  “I’m needed topside,” he told Katey. “I’ll only be gone a moment.”

  The captain appeared embarrassed to be leaving. Boyd noticed it, too, and said, “She’s a grown woman, Tyrus. She doesn’t need a chaperone.”

  “She’s an unmarried woman,” Tyrus rejoined. “I’d say she does need one.”

  Boyd simply shrugged, replying, “Then by all means, do hurry back.”

  Having been discussed like that, as if she weren’t sitting there, was embarrassing enough to put the blush on her cheeks, but that wasn’t what made her blush. She was now alone with Boyd, and the expression in his eyes was no longer impersonal. The moment the door closed on the captain’s back, Boyd was looking at her as if she were the first course.

  “Stop it,” she blurted out.

  “Stop what?”

  “Looking at me like that. It’s highly im—”

  He cut in with some blurting of his own. “Marry me, Katey. Tyrus is legally empowered to officiate at sea. We can be sharing a bed tonight.”

  She sucked in her breath over such rudeness. And he had to be joking. There was no other excuse when a marriage proposal, crude as that one had been, was too impulsive, even for him.

  “Now you add insult to injury?”

  He looked as if he wanted to bang his head on the table. “I’m serious. Put me out of my misery.”

  She was angry enough to say, “Misery becomes you.”

  A long moment passed while she glared and he slowly began looking contrite as he realized just how far out of bounds he’d just stepped. The proposal was inappropriate enough considering all that had happened, but for him to mention sharing a bed in the same breath!

  He finally sighed, “I’m sorry. That wasn’t planned. Believe me, I did not—”

  “There we are,” the captain said, returning. “That didn’t take long at all.”

  Katey managed a smile for the man. She would have liked to have heard the rest of Boyd’s explanation, but it was probably better that she not.

  “No, indeed,” she told the captain.

  The main course arrived on Tyrus’s heels. While they were served, he mentioned a few interesting Spanish ports that could be reached by morning or even later that afternoon.

  “We’ll be passing the port of Málaga first, possibly before evening if the wind remains steady. Cartagena and Valencia can be reached within the week.”

  “If you want to stop at only one Spanish town for now,” Boyd added, “I would recommend Barcelona in the Catalunya region. Our country has been trading with them for over forty years now.”

  The two men began to mention the merits of each town and some of the things that could be seen, including evidence of the Roman occupation so many centuries ago. They were halfway through the main course when another crewman came in to whisper in Tyrus’s ear again.

  The captain stared pointedly at Boyd with disapproval as he stood up this time. Tyrus looked as if he might even say something scathing, but tight-lipped, he excused himself instead and marched out of the cabin.

  Katey couldn’t help noticing that Boyd appeared entirely too smug over that abrupt departure, causing her to suspect that both of those “emergencies” the captain had to deal with were contrived—by Boyd. With that thought she stood up to leave. She wasn’t going to deal with yet another outrageous proposal, if that’s what this was all about.

  She paused at the door though with the realization that he could just have come by her cabin if he wanted to talk to her alone. He didn’t have to resort to any elaborate scheme. Grace wasn’t always there with her—well, mostly she was. They preferred to pass the time aboard ship in each other’s company rather than alone. But she was usually alone when she stood at the rail with her spyglass—and crewmen passed her by frequently, so she wasn’t really alone there either.

  She stopped trying to talk herself out of leaving and put her hand on the doorknob—and felt his hand cover hers. She was startled enough to swing around. She couldn’t have made a worse mistake. He was too close. Their bodies were actually touching. And then their mouths were, too.

  Oh, God, she’d known what this would be like. She’d had too many daydreams about him kissing her like this and had cut them off abruptly because it had been too exciting, thinking about it. Yet she’d done so again, and again. She hadn’t been able to resist. But this…it was so much more than she could possibly have imagined.

  He drew her up against him with his arm around her back. His other hand moved around her neck, his thumb resting under her chin to keep her mouth at the angle he wanted. Any angle would have been sublime for her. She was afraid she wa
s going to swoon, so many sensations were coming at her all at once. Her heart had never pounded so hard, or so loud she could hear it in her ears. Her blood had never raced so swiftly.

  Her own arms slipped around his shoulders. In the back of her mind she told herself it was to keep from falling, certainly not because she wanted to hold him. Yet there really was no chance of her falling when he was now crushing her so closely to him. Her breasts tingled with that hard contact. Her stomach swirled. And when his tongue thrust between her lips, heat seemed to wash over her from head to foot. It was her racing blood she was sure. It was the taste of him that she’d craved for so long. Anything he did right then would have been—

  The opening door banged into them. They leapt apart, but not soon enough for Tyrus not to guess what they’d just been doing.

  “Damnit, Boyd—,” he started to explode.

  “Not now!” Boyd cut in even more sharply.

  He was in no condition for a reprimand. He was himself leaning on the wall for support. And the tone he’d used was apparently one the captain recognized as adamant, because Tyrus didn’t say another word, not with Katey still standing there.

  Katey was amazed she was still standing and that she hadn’t yet moved. Her feet urged her to bolt out of there immediately, embarrassment urged her even more, but she resisted with every ounce of will she had left. She couldn’t let this happen again. Boyd’s kiss had been too powerful, had sapped her will, had thrilled her beyond measure. And it would happen again if she didn’t make sure it didn’t. And there was only one way to do that.

  “I lied,” she said to Boyd, her eyes locked to his. “I’m very good at it. Didn’t I already mention that to you, that it’s something I excel at? I do it all the time. Ask my maid, she’ll tell you. It’s a habit from childhood, you know.”