Catalina's Caress

by Sylvie F. Sommerfield

  She gave him the coins, and he opened the wide door so she could drive away, watching after the receding carriage.

  "If Miz Charlotte finds out about this we's both gonna get skinned. I sure hope you don't run across no trouble, and get back before mornin' or we's gonna be in for it. Miz Charlotte don't take to bein' snookered ... no sir, she don't take to it at all."

  He continued to shake his head as he walked to a comfortable pile of hay on which a blanket was spread.

  "She asked me to wait and open the doors for her, but she didn't say nothn' bout bein' comfortable while I waited."

  He lay down on the blanket, and after a while its warmth took over and he drifted off to sleep.

  ❧

  Catalina drove through the dark deserted streets without mishap. When she reached the Southern Belle, she saw no sign of life aboard. She left the carriage and walked as quietly as possible to the gangplank, not expecting any problem with the crew abed. Nonetheless, she mounted the gangplank slowly.

  Having been aboard the Belle more than once Catalina easily found her way to the captain's quarters. Seeing light beneath the door, she reasoned he must still be awake. She wanted to take advantage of the element of surprise, so she turned the knob and swung the door open. The scene that greeted her was the last one she had expected.

  ❧

  This was one of the few times when Marc had been caught totally off guard. He was stunned to find Catalina Carrington in his doorway, and piqued by the contemptuous amusement in her eyes.

  He had a strong desire to throttle her—or kiss her— until she begged for release. What he did was smile coolly and continue dressing as if her presence meant little or nothing to him. It was Nina who bridled.

  "Who is she?" she demanded, causing Marc's brows to furrow in annoyance.

  "She's none of your business, Nina. Just someone I have a little ... business with. We have to talk alone. Why don't you go down to China's stateroom and make sure the girls are settled?"

  Nina's face was a study in ill-suppressed rage. She glared at Catalina as she gathered up the balance of her things. Then she went to Marc and kissed him slowly and leisurely. Finally, a half-smile on her lips, she walked to the door.

  "Do hurry with your ... business, -Marc. It's been a long time, and we have a lot to talk about." Her throaty sensual voice made her meaning quite clear.

  Catalina smiled through gritted teeth, and despite his amused grin, Marc could have thrown Nina overboard.

  After Nina closed the door behind her, a heavy silence descended on the cabin. Marc chose not to try to break it. This was her game now and he wasn't going to help her one bit. He poured a glass of brandy and sipped from it while he watched her.

  Catalina had to choose quickly just what kind of approach she was going to use. He is shrewd, she thought, and in that white shirt and dark pants he could be a pirate. She was well aware of the heady masculine aura about him. He was devastatingly sensual, and she was more than irritated by the fact that her senses responded despite her will. She had never been alone with a man she considered as dangerous as this one.

  "Mr. Copeland..."

  "Marc." He grinned. "Sounds friendlier.''

  "Mr. Copeland," she insisted coldly. "I've come to talk to you about the Southern Belle."

  Marc set his glass down and walked slowly toward her. Catalina held her ground, gazing at him defiantly. She would have given anything to be able to turn and run, but there was too much at stake. Valiantly, she suppressed the fear he aroused in her. She wasn't sure just what she was afraid of, and that angered her also. She could feel her cheeks grow warm under the intensity of his gaze, but she refused to budge an inch.

  Marc's eyes were filled with alert awareness, but he, too, refused to move. His smile was openly challenging as he stood close enough to touch her.

  When Catalina reached up to lower the hood of the cloak she wore, Marc's smile remained unchanged, but he grew tense. Her hair, deliberately left unbound, fell in a cascade over her shoulders and down her back. He was tempted to bury his hands in it, to inhale more of the subtle intoxicating fragrance that touched his senses.

  Her features were creamy perfection, and his hands itched to trace the fine texture of her skin. He imposed a firm grip on himself and remained silent.

  "I... I must talk to you."

  He moved slowly around behind her, but she obstinately refused to turn and see what he was about. Scarcely breathing, she felt his presence close to her.

  His hands came over her shoulders, and she shivered as he loosened her cloak and drew it from them.

  "Make yourself comfortable,'' he said softly. "Would you like some brandy?"

  "No!" she said quickly. The last thing she needed was something that would affect her senses even more.

  God, he thought, does she have any idea how breathtaking she is? Then reason struck him: of course she knew. She had planned this carefully, and if he wasn't careful he would find himself wound around her little finger like some hot-blooded boy.

  "I take it," he said with aggravating coolness and a soft laugh that pricked her ears, "that you have come to agree to my bargain?"

  She spun about and rage she could barely control leapt into her eyes. Only by exerting the severest discipline did she respond to his words verbally rather than physically.

  "I have come to discuss our situation," she said frigidly. The damnable beast, she thought Does he honestly believe I will surrender to him? The battle is not over yet.

  "Our situation?" he repeated. "I didn't know there was much about it to discuss. I have something you want... and you know the price of it. I thought you had done your thinking and had come to agree."

  Offering neither a word of agreement nor of explanation, Catalina moved away from him. The combination of fear and anger were difficult to control. They put words on the tip of her tongue, words that would ruin all her plans if they were spoken.

  She stood with her back to him because she could not trust herself.

  "I have another offer for you. One you might find even more agreeable."

  "More agreeable than three days—and nights—with you?" he said with disbelieving humor. "I hardly think so. It would take a great deal to make a more tempting offer."

  Catalina had set the small satchel just inside the door when she had entered the cabin. Now she turned back to look at him.

  "You said the Belle was worth two hundred thousand."

  "She is ... in fact most likely more."

  "There is two hundred thousand in that bag."

  Marc cast a quick look at the bag, then another very irritated one at Catalina.

  "And what simple-minded fool lets you wander the streets carrying something like that? You alone are enough to lure any scoundrel without that provocation."

  "As a scroundrel I'm sure you would know." Catalina could not resist that one cut. Her reward was a wide white smile and a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

  "My lady, you do tempt me."

  She refused to listen to the double entendre. The pearls are there also. You should see at least sixty thousand on them. It is an immense profit."

  "Very," he said gently. His eyes were warm as they roamed over her. "But then, much depends on what kind of profit I really want."

  "You can hardly refuse such an offer! It's many times what Seth lost. Are you a fool?"

  "Hardly. I am simply the owner of what you want As such I've the right to set my own price."

  "But you are unreasonable!" she cried.

  "My dear Cat," he said seriously, "no man who looked at you would consider me unreasonable. I would be considered a fool if I passed up the chance to share your... charms. I have a great deal of money already, and possess one of the best boats on the river. In fact"—he laughed softly—"I have just about everything I want."

  "You could have the decency to listen to reason." Catalina was losing her control. "You have nothing to lose. With this money you could buy or build the best boat on the
river."

  "Undoubtedly."

  "Then what is it you want?" she nearly shrieked.

  His smile was an obvious answer, and anger nearly overcame her. She moved toward him, her hands curved into claws, fighting the urge to tear out his eyes and rip the arrogant smirk from his face.

  "You are a damned pirate!" she cried.

  He moved like lightning, snatching both wrists to force her arms behind her back. She was forced against a body whose reaction could be soon felt as his loins grew heated with her lush curves pressed so close.

  His eyes burned into hers and for the first time she felt a trembling fear that left her knees weak and her body strangely devoid of the strength to resist. Her eyes grew wide as he lowered parted lips and moved them slowly, teasingly and warmly, across hers. His mouth was insistent as his tongue forced her lips apart and thrust to deeply taste the sweet caverns of her mouth.

  Her world careened crazily and she fought just to regain her wayward senses. She was caught in the heat of a battle she did not have the experience to win. The kiss sent a heated stream of wild excitement through her, and the hard muscular length of him ignited her body despite her attempt to resist him.

  Warmth seemed to seep into her every pore until her skin was aflame with it and she was lost in a searing scorching fire that twisted her will and melted it down into the slow simmer of passion.

  With a surge born of desperation, she pushed herself from his arms. Both were raggedly gasping for breath.

  "No!" she half-gasped half-moaned.

  "I'll tell you now, Catalina Carrington. You take your money, you take your pearls. I will settle for nothing less than surrender. You still have five days. Make up your mind. If I sail five days from now without you, then consider the Southern Belle lost to you forever."

  Catalina could think of nothing except getting away from the destructive emotion she had almost surrendered to. She almost ran to the door, snatched up the satchel and her cloak, and then she was gone, the door swinging closed behind her.

  Marc looked at it, disbelief on his face. Despite all else he had wanted her as he had never wanted another woman, yet she was a mortal enemy he meant to destroy.

  Chapter 5

  On the ride back to her aunt's house Catalina was filled with such black rage that she was hardly aware of the distance.

  She wakened the stable boy and gave him strict orders to care carefully for the horse. Then she went into the dark quiet house and silently made her way to her room.

  Once inside it, she gave vent to her fury as she paced about like a caged lioness.

  "He is an unmitigated scoundrel," she groaned half-aloud. She clasped her hands before her. "Whatever am I going to do? That man will ruin Seth . .. and our boat. Oh, God, I could kill him!"

  Thoughts of murder and mayhem tumbled through her mind, creating a defiant shield between what she thought and what she felt.

  She refused to remember that one wild moment of near surrender. It had meant nothing more to him than a point in whatever game he was playing.

  Somewhere deep inside she felt there was much more to this than the problem between Seth and Marc. She had sensed a kind of vengeful violence even in his kiss. But why, she thought, why? What could she or Seth have done to him?

  Whatever it was, however, that was the key to getting back the Southern Belle, and she had a few short days in which to find the answers.

  Reluctantly, even though she knew she could not sleep, she began to prepare for bed.

  She was completely unprepared when her door opened and her aunt Charlotte entered the room.

  "Aunt Charlotte! What are you doing here so late?"

  "I've been waiting patiently for you to get home," Charlotte said crisply. "Now, my girl, you sit yourself down and tell me just what all this gallivanting around at unheard-of hours is all about."

  "Now, Aunt Charlotte. . ." Catalina gave her a pacifying smile.

  "Don't you patronize me, young lady." Charlotte chuckled. "I've been wise to your shenanigans since you were in diapers. Now suppose you just start at the beginning... and tell me the truth."

  Catalina sighed, but sat down obediently. She had never succeeded in outfoxing her aunt, and she was sure she wasn't going to now. She began to explain as best she could, hardly noticing the glitter of amusement and understanding in her aunt's-eyes.

  Charlotte McNeil was an astoundingly vital woman despite her sixty years. Her body was still healthy and strong, and she walked erectly. Her skin, barely touched by time, still had a soft texture, and her hair, once a deep auburn, was white as snow but still thick and glowing. Yet it was the remarkable strength and understanding in her clear blue eyes that drew people to her like magnets.

  The secrets of her past and the reason for her firm intent to remain unmarried had been held within her for forty years. Whatever these were, they had never defeated her. Now she saw through Catalina's words, recognized emotions Catalina would have preferred to keep to herself.

  "You've told me a great deal, child. Now, suppose you tell me just why such a man would turn down the offer you made? He wants more than the Belle and money. What is it?"

  Reluctantly and in subdued voice, Catalina told the truth.

  "So," Charlotte said softly, "it's you he really wants."

  "But I don't understand," Catalina protested. "I have never met him before. He has never seen me. Why would he do this?"

  "Hmmm," Charlotte murmured. "It appears to me the gentleman has a secret of sorts."

  "A secret. But what secret could he have that has anything to do with me?"

  "That seems to be something we will have to find out You say he gave you a time limit."

  "Five more days."

  "Well"—Charlotte chuckled—"in five days a great deal can be accomplished. I would dearly love to get my hands on that scamp of a brother of yours. He might cast a little light on this puzzle."

  "He's at Rosepoint."

  "With that Travis Sherman." Charlotte looked closely at Catalina. "You haven't gone soft on that one have you?"

  "No, Aunt Charlotte." Catalina laughed. "Ihaven't gone soft on anybody. It seems to me men mean a lot of trouble and grief."

  "Some do and some don't. I think it's time we sought some sleep. I've some thinking to do and you look exhausted."

  "I am."

  "Well, climb into bed. We'll talk in the morning. Good night, Cat."

  "Night."

  Charlotte closed Catalina's door behind her. Then she stood in the hall for a moment. As she walked to her room, she laughed softly.

  "I do believe I would like to meet this Marc Copeland," she muttered.

  ❧

  Seth had pushed himself to the extent his body would allow. It was the reason he'd arrived in New Orleans fully three-quarters of a day before he had expected to.

  He knew Catalina well and even though they had other relatives in this city he was more than certain she would go to the place where she would feel the most comfortable, their Aunt Charlotte's.

  When he arrived at Charlotte's home it was very late, and he was both tired and hungry. His persistent knocking was finally answered by the disgruntled housekeeper, who resented being wakened in the small hours of the morning.

  "Mr; Carrington," she said reprovingly, "it is rather late, sir."

  "I know, Mrs. Tucker, and I'm dreadfully sorry. I'm looking for my sister."

  'Miss Carrington has gone to bed hours ago, sir ... as most civilized people have."

  Seth was amused by her pointed remark. "I suppose Aunt Charlotte has been in bed for hours too."

  "Absolutely."

  "Who is it, Mrs. Tucker?" Charlotte's voice came from the top of the steps. Both Mrs. Tucker and Seth looked up in surprise. Mrs. Tucker spoke first.

  "It's young Mr. Carrington, Mrs. McNeil."

  "Seth," Charlotte called. "Come up here, boy, at once."

  Seth smiled apologetically at Mrs. Tucker, moved past her, and took the steps two at a time. />
  "Aunt Charlotte, I want to talk to Cat."

  "Not before you've done some explaining, young man. It seems you've created a problem or two lately. Come to my room."

  "But I've got to talk to Cat It's important.''

  "Not," Charlotte said firmly, "until we talk."

  She walked toward her room without looking back, thoroughly expecting him to follow. He did.

  Inside her room, Charlotte turned to face him as soon as he closed the door behind him. He read her face quite accurately.

  "Just how much has Cat told you?" he asked.

  "Probably as much as she knows, but I'm sure not as much as you know."

  "Then tell me what's happened."

  Charlotte motioned him to a seat near her on a small settee. She explained what had transpired between Cat and Marc Copeland. Seth was enraged, but he sat quietly until Charlotte finished.

  "She need not worry any longer, Aunt Charlotte. I intend to straighten this all out."

  "What are you going to do?"

  Seth slowly but firmly told her all, watching his aunt's face as he did. "So you see Aunt Charlotte, Copeland will not be a threat to Cat again. He won't be able to do her any harm... or me. Sweet revenge, Aunt Charlotte. He can keep the Belle. One way or another I'll make it up to Father, but either way it's over."

  "I would say, young man, that you have grown somewhat in the past days."

  "I have. I hope to change everything."

  "When will you go and see this gentleman?"

  "In the morning. I want to talk to Cat first though. I'll feel better if she knows she has nothing to worry about."

  "Good. Now I suggest you get some sleep. You do look terrible."

  "I may look it"—Seth laughed—"but I've never felt better. Can I have the old room I used to sleep in when I visited you?"

  "You may."

  Seth rose, kissed Charlotte's cheek and left. For some time Charlotte sat in deep thought. She had a strange feeling that the Carrington family had not seen the last of Marc Copeland. She was almost certain there was some threat behind all that had happened and it was not going to go away so easily.