Hot Winds From Bombay

by Becky Lee Weyrich

  “We have discussed the matter thoroughly and are in total agreement that the man is worthy of such a lovely and gracious wife. He assured me that even when he is away you will be well taken care of.”

  “Away?” Europa said the word without even being conscious that she had spoken aloud.

  “Why, of course, my dear. You don’t expect that he would give up his life’s calling to marry? That would be demanding too much, even of a man who loves you so dearly.”

  “But Seton never goes anywhere. He’s always right here. Sometimes I wish he would go down to Boston or up to Portland… anywhere, just to give me a few hours to myself. Where on earth is he planning to go, Father?”

  Captain Whiddington’s face had gone pale and blank. He looked to his wife. Her smile had vanished.

  “Europa dear,” Victoria said gently, “I’m afraid we aren’t talking about Seton.”

  “But didn’t he speak to you last night, Father?”

  “Yes. About nautical law and some other gibberish that I never even listened to. The man is as dull as last month’s news. He seemed never to get to the point of what he wanted to say. The thought struck me that he came to speak to me on one subject, then lost his nerve and fabricated questions that didn’t interest him any more than they interested me.”

  “Then what are you talking about, Father?” Europa’s voice was nearing an hysterical pitch.

  “Your engagement, of course!”

  “To whom, if not Seton?” she demanded, rising from her chair.

  “To Zachariah Hazzard! He came to me last night and asked to marry you, Europa.”

  Persia felt the words stab through her heart as if her father had just thrown one of Fletcher’s native spears and struck his target point-blank. No! There had been some mistake! Zack couldn’t have asked for Europa’s hand. He loved her!

  Persia turned to Europa for salvation. She knew her sister cared nothing for Zack. She would laugh at the mistake their father had made and set the record straight. Tonight, when Zack came to dinner, they would all have a good laugh over it. But when she looked at her sister, Europa was smiling and nodding.

  “So, he really did it! I actually thought he was joking when he mentioned marriage to me, Father.”

  “Are you telling me that Mr. Hazzard’s proposal is some sort of jest? I won’t have it! No one plays my daughter for a fool or me, either!”

  “Calm yourself, dear. Remember your heart,” Victoria cautioned.

  “Damn my heart! I’ll have the man keel-hauled!”

  “Father, don’t get so upset,” Europa said pleasantly. “I’ll gladly marry Zachariah Hazzard. He’s quite the most fascinating man I’ve ever met.”

  Persia’s intake of breath was heard all around the table.

  Her mother rushed to her and patted her back. “Dear, are you all right? Don’t eat your muffin so fast. You’ll choke on it.”

  Persia was choking all right, but not on an apple muffin. Suddenly, Europa had stolen her black-and-white puppy all over again. Only this time the pain was far worse. This pain was excruciating, soul-rending, killing. In that awful moment, a tale Fletcher had told her came to mind. He had said that in some ancient culture the native priests sacrificed their victims to the gods by cutting out their hearts with razor-sharp ceremonial knives while the poor human creatures still lived. She had been both fascinated and horrified at the very idea. Now she knew how those victims of antiquity had felt. She knew their pain… their hopeless anguish.

  “Persia dear, are you ill?” asked her mother.

  Before Persia could answer, Europa piped up, “Don’t worry about her, Mother. I’m afraid she’s suffering a sudden attack of envy. She’s had quite a crush on Zachariah since first they met.” She turned her glowing but false smile on her sister. “Think of it, Persia darling, you’ll have Zack as a big brother now. Won’t that be wonderful? And your time will come, as Father said.

  Perhaps Seton might be right for you. He’s very nice, even if he isn’t the most romantic fellow in the world. And he’s always told me that he’s quite fond of you.”

  Fond? Fond! Persia would have laughed if she hadn’t felt so numb. Fond was hardly what she wanted from a husband! Zachariah Hazzard was the man she wanted, and she wanted a husband’s love from him, not a brother’s!

  If his marriage to Europa was to take place right away, before he went back to sea, she wouldn’t even have a chance to talk to him—to find out what happened—before the wheels were set into irreversible motion. Once her mother had spoken to Reverend Osgood and reserved the date for the church, there would be no calling it off. And she was sure to visit the minister this very morning with so many preparations to make in such a short time.

  “Excuse me, please,” Persia said, her mind set now on a course of action. “I feel like taking a walk.”

  “But dear, it’s snowing out,” her mother protested. “And besides, you haven’t even eaten your apple muffin.”

  “Let Europa take it,” she replied, wanting to add, She takes everything else that belongs to me.

  But this time she really couldn’t fault her sister. Something had gone amiss. Europa could only be blamed for accepting what was handed to her.

  As Persia headed for Jefferd’s Tavern, wrapped in her fur-lined cape and bent forward against the wind-whipped snow, her mind churned with uncertainty. Maybe Europa was right. Maybe Zack was all talk. Could it be that he had taken her to his room the day before hoping to seduce her? Was he the type of man who wanted to sample the charms of both sisters before he decided which one, if either, he wanted?

  No! He had decided. And apparently Europa was his choice. Maybe there wasn’t anything she could do about it, but she could certainly give him a piece of her mind.

  The tavern was all quiet at this still early hour. She slipped in unnoticed and hurried past the front desk, where the innkeeper slumped in his chair dozing. With all the stealth she could muster, she made her way to the second floor. No one was astir in the hallway. She all but ran to Zack’s door. She tried the knob and found it unlocked. In the blink of an eye she was inside his room with the door closed and latched behind her.

  There he was, sleeping. Propriety forced her eyes away for a moment, but curiosity brought them back. He lay sprawled in his bed—naked, she could tell. His bare chest with its forest of golden hair rose and fell softly with each breath he took. The sheet had slipped nearly to his groin, and she saw that his belly was well-furred as well, his man-hair growing in an inverted triangle that pointed to a pulsing rise under the sheet. One long leg dangled off the side of the narrow mattress, the toes of his foot almost touching the floor. His hair was tousled, but bis face calm.

  She felt such a need to go to him, to kiss the slightly parted lips, to stroke the hair on his chest, to touch the white belly exposed to her eyes for the first time. Then she remembered Europa, and all tenderness fled her body and mind. How could he have hurt her so?

  Suddenly, she felt as if another presence had entered the room. Gooseflesh crawled up her arms, and her face felt hot for no discernible reason. She looked from his belly to his face. His eyes were open, devouring her with an odd sort of hunger.

  “Persia?” His voice was raspy with sleep. “What are you doing here?”

  “I had to come. To tell you what I think of you. You bastard!” The words quivered from her lips, and her eyes misted with tears. “Don’t try to defend what you’ve done. I may be young, but I’m not stupid, Zachariah Hazzard!”

  He propped up on one elbow and squinted at her. “Persia, what the hell are you talking about?”

  Her smile held no humor. “Oh, that’s the way you plan to play it, eh? ‘Persia love, there’s been a terrible mistake!’”

  “I’m not playing anything any particular way. I’d just like you to tell me what’s going on. It’s not often that I’m awakened by a woman who looks as if she might kill me on half a dare.”

  He noticed
all at once that his body was nearly exposed to her and yanked up the thin sheet. It did little to disguise the full erection aroused by the sight of her in his waking vision.

  “I could kill you! Don’t doubt it for an instant!” She grabbed up his knife from the table near the door and started toward him. “Maybe I should just castrate you like Father has Fletcher do our little bullies. That would put an end to your fun and games!”

  Zack was backing up in bed, pulling the sheet with him.

  “Persia darling, tell me what I’ve done. Even a condemned man has a right to know what he’s accused of.”

  “Did you speak to Father last night?”

  “Yes. I did. Just as I promised I would.”

  “And did you ask for my hand?”

  “Of course. And he agreed.”

  “Liar!” She screamed the word and plunged toward him, the knife upheld in her right hand.

  Zack caught her wrist just in time. Whether she would have really driven it home through his heart neither of them would ever know. The sharp steel weapon clattered to the floor and Persia collapsed, sobbing against his chest. He held her, stroking her hair, murmuring to her, trying to console her and to find out what had happened. But she was incoherent, hysterical.

  “Persia, Persia,” he crooned. “My love, my darling. What can I do?”

  Her hand crept over his chest. She twined her fingertips through the golden forest of hair, not noticing that when by chance she stroked his paps he stiffened, moaned, and thrust toward her.

  “Love me, Zack,” she whispered between sobs. “Love me as if I were the only woman in the world you cared for.”

  “But you are, Persia!”

  “Make me believe it.” Her warm, moist breath tingled over his chest, and one tear dropped down, stinging his flesh.

  He caught her up in his arms, searching her tear-salted mouth with his tongue. She quivered against him and sighed into his open mouth.

  This was the moment… the woman… he had been dreaming of all his life. He held her with one arm and with the other began unbuttoning her bodice. She made no protest at first, but when his hand found her bare breast, she pulled away and stared at him with anger in her flashing blue eyes.

  “It doesn’t matter to you, does it?”

  “What doesn’t matter to me?” he asked in a voice strangled with passion. God, how could she do this to him—lead him on and then turn away?

  “The woman’s body beneath yours? One’s as good as another, isn’t it? The more the merrier, that’s what Europa says.”

  “Europa? What the hell does she have to do with this?”

  “Everything! You find her appealing, don’t you?”

  Still holding her with the front of her gown parted so that her breasts were bared before him, he shrugged. “I won’t deny it. What man would?”

  “The man I’m going to marry would!”

  “Be reasonable, Persia. I’m only human. I may look at Europa with appreciative eyes, but it’s you I love. If I didn’t love you, I promise you, you would be stripped and beneath me this very moment.”

  She stared down at him, trying to read the very depths of his eyes. Her own were filled with uncertainty.

  “But Father thinks when you spoke to him last night that you were asking to marry Europa.”

  “Europa? But that’s impossible!”

  “Didn’t you say which sister you were asking for?”

  “Of course I did!” He frowned and clawed a hand through his wild shock of golden hair, uncertain. “I must have. And besides, Seton spoke to your father before I did. He asked for Europa’s hand.”

  “So we thought, but he lost his nerve. You must not have mentioned my name. Since Seton didn’t ask for Europa, Father would have turned you down if you’d asked for me. She has to marry before I will be allowed to.”

  “But he gave us his blessing, Persia.”

  She shook her head sadly, the fight gone out of her. “He gave you and Europa his blessing.”

  Zack closed his arms around her and Persia sank into them, sobbing against his bare chest as the full impact of the hopeless situation crushed her with it’s weight.

  Stroking her hair, he murmured softly, “Darling, it’s nothing to be so upset about. All we have to do is go to your father and tell him there’s been a mistake.”

  “No, it’s not that simple. Europa has accepted the engagement. She wants to marry you! She said you were the most fascinating man she’d ever met.”

  He drew back, smiling. “Did she really?”

  Until that moment, Persia thought she had no heart left, but his words and their tone tore the rest of it from her living flesh.

  “You want her, don’t you?” she accused, pulling away.

  “I want you, Persia love. Only you/”

  He clasped her about the waist, bringing her lips up to his. For the next moment, Persia gloried in his velvet exploration of the secret depths of her mouth. How easy it was for him to turn pain to pleasure! Did such a talent come through broad experience?

  “What are we going to do, Zack?”

  He turned her, pressing her back against the mattress, and stared down into her tear-streaked face. One hand caught at the hem of her skirts, moving the full fabric up her stockinged leg. “We could seal our bargain now. They wouldn’t dare refuse to marry us!”

  It was tempting, but she shoved his urgent hand away. “A child born prematurely? You think that’s the answer? No, Zack. I won’t have it that way, as much as I want you.”

  She was lying there on her back, the bodice of her dress spread wide before his eager eyes… and lips.

  Slowly, he lowered his head and touched one strutting nipple with his tongue. She winced with pleasure and surprise. Her tender flesh crinkled at the unexpected contact. He pressed his assault, drawing the sensitive bud between his lips. Persia gasped softly.

  “Shall I stop?” There was mischief in his voice as his breath tingled her tender flesh.

  “Yes!” The answer was firm and strong, even if she didn’t mean it.

  He looked down into her eyes, his own dark and seething with desire. “Your first lesson as my wife, Persia dear. Never invade my bedroom first thing in the morning unless you are in the mood for love.”

  Holding her shoulders firmly against the pillow, Zack took his morning sup at her breasts. She tossed and twisted beneath him, dying a thousand small deaths to have him take the rest of her. Her flesh ached with desire, and she murmured his name, pleading over and over again, but Zack contented himself with what lay naked before him. The rest, he resolved, would wait for their wedding night.

  When he could take no more without crumbling that resolve, he pushed himself away and closed her bodice with an air of finality. Slowly, while Persia stared up at him with pleading eyes, he refastened each and every one of her twenty pewter buttons.

  “There! You’re safe now, my darling.”

  She raised up on her elbows and gave him a half smile. “Am I?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The only way I’ll be safe, Zachariah Hazzard, is as your wife. Which will it be? Are you going to marry me or Europa?”

  “Well-l-l… let’s say I’ll give you my answer at supper tonight.”

  She caught him about the neck with sharp nails and answered, “Let’s say I’ll do you bodily harm if you don’t marry me!”

  He fended her off. “All right! All right! Now I have a threat for you. Either you leave in the next two minutes and let me get my pants on, or you’re going to find out, in the most shocking and exciting way, exactly what I put into them!”

  Persia was very tempted to stay but didn’t dare. Gathering herself in her cloak, she hurried out, secure in the knowledge that all misunderstandings would be righted by evening and she, not Europa, would be Zachariah Hazzard’s betrothed.

  As she hurried down the stairs, not looking where she was going, she literally ran into the inn
keeper. He caught her shoulders with his beefy hands for a moment to steady her.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

  “Quite all right, Miss Whiddington.”

  She stared. How did the man know her name?

  “Been visiting upstairs again with your gentleman friend, Mr. Hazzard?” He gave her a broad wink and a highly suggestive grin. “You needn’t worry that I know all about your little rendezvous. I’m deaf, dumb, and blind when it comes to such delicate matters.”

  Persia gasped in horror. She had to defend her honor and her innocence. “It so happens that Mr. Hazzard and I are about to be married.”

  The man bowed to her and chuckled. “Then let me be the first to congratulate you. You’ll be snagging a rich man.”

  “Zachariah? Rich?”

  “Indeed! He made a wager that it seems he’s won.”

  “What kind of wager?”

  The man squinted at her, considering. “Well, now that’s for him to tell. But he’ll be collecting a small fortune for his amorous efforts.”

  Persia stared at the man, and her mouth dropped open. A wager? What kind of games was Zack playing?

  She pushed her way past the innkeeper, confused and more upset than ever. She couldn’t go home yet. She was still too angry to face Europa. She hurried blindly down Main Street, letting the snow whip her face with its cleansing coolness.

  After all that had happened, did she still love Zack? Did she still want to be his wife?

  Yes! The answer was as clear to her as the memory of the sensations aroused by his mouth suckling gently at her breasts.

  Chapter Ten

  Zack sat on the edge of his bed, listening to the tap-tap of Persia’s footsteps fade down the hallway. He leaned forward, staring at the wide pine boards of the floor, but not really seeing anything. His body might be here, but his mind was miles away, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. Thinking back over it, he realized that the past days had been like a dream… a nightmare, perhaps?

  What was he doing here? If he’d only gone on to Boston with most of his shipmates, he’d be happily drinking in some tavern, a willing doxy at his beck and call and not a care in the world. He stared down at himself and the hopeless erection throbbing against his belly.