Tides of Passion

by Sara Orwig

  Her cheeks flushed, but she reached out to stroke his throat and his pulse drummed. He moved away abruptly. He wasn’t weakened by fever and her looks and touch stirred him swiftly to a burning need for her. “I’ll fetch a steward with something for you to eat.”

  “I feel as if I could eat part of the bedding, I’m so famished.”

  He laughed. “You’re better! I’ll be back, love.” He kissed her temple lightly and left. Within a few minutes he returned. “Jason is cooking stew and will be here with it soon.”

  “Thank you for your care,” she said softly.

  He stared at her with a warm expression in his eyes, and nodded. “When you’re able, we’ll go topside to get you into the fresh air. We sail south, where the sun grows warmer and the air more pleasant.”

  A few days later, Lianna and Josh were on deck when he led her to the bow, where Fletcher handed over the telescope. “A battle—there are two ships on the horizon.”

  Josh squinted into the telescope. “We’ll have to get closer.” He raised his voice to shout, “Southward! Twelve sail.”

  “Wouldn’t it be safer to avoid a battle?” she asked.

  “Safety is not what I always seek.”

  Within minutes the sails filled with wind and El Feroz gained speed, drawing closer to the ships and the pounding guns.

  Josh raised the telescope to peer at the ships. “A British ship, the Adrian, and a Spanish schooner.” Lowering the glass, he said to Fletcher, “Mount a swivel gun on the poop deck. Move to the windward quarter, cross the stern and luff sails with the helm alee. We’ll rake her stern with the biggest guns as we pass.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Pass the word to aim for the rudder, their tiller, and block and tackle.”

  “Aye, sir. Grappling irons?”

  “No. No boarding party from our side. We’ll leave the spoils for the English frigate. You better get below, Lianna.”

  “Do I pull down the red-and-gold, sir?” Fletcher asked.

  Josh looked up at the Spanish colors flying above them. “No,” he said. “Not until I give the word.”

  “You’ll sink your countrymen!” Lianna gasped.

  Green eyes glittered with anticipation. “No, we’ll come about on the other side of the Spaniards. Then they’ll be caught between two English frigates who will send them to the bottom. Come along, Lianna. Call for battle posts, mate. Clew up sails when we draw alongside. I want the main topgallant furled.”

  “Aye, aye, sir!” Fletcher answered.

  Josh hurried Lianna below, then crossed to the sea chest to remove a sword and belt, which he buckled around his hips. She watched as he opened a box with a brace of pistols and began loading swiftly.

  “Kiss me, love. I go to battle for you.”

  “Not for me, Josh. You love battle,” she said. With a smile she stood on tiptoe and brushed his cheek.

  His eyes glowed warmly and his gave her a quick hug. “How glad I am that you’re well.” He turned and left, and she knew the lull between them, while he had waited for her to mend from her bout of sickness, was over. And she burned with conflicting emotions as the full significance dawned on her. Excitement drummed within because she realized he would return to claim her as his wife.

  A gun blast shattered her thoughts. She dashed to a porthole to watch the battle. El Feroz drew alongside the unsuspecting Spanish ship. The volley of guns was deafening as the English and Spanish fought. Suddenly El Feroz shook with a blast of cannon and the Spanish mast cracked, falling to the deck. Within minutes men were screaming and battling on deck while Englishmen from the other ship swarmed on board the Spanish vessel.

  The Britishers fought Spaniards hand-to-hand, with cutlass and pistol. She felt sick, watching the carnage, and was ready to turn away, when a golden head of hair captured her attention.

  Lianna’s heart missed a beat. She rubbed her hand over the glass and stared at the deck of the sinking ship as two men fought with swords, one clumsily, yet determined to win, his golden hair blowing in the sun. “Edwin!” she gasped. It couldn’t be! Edwin Stafford was at home on the farm in Wiltshire.

  She blinked and strained to see as the combatants battled toward the rail, closer to El Feroz. Her hand flew to her throat as the Britisher ran the Spaniard through and turned away. There was no longer any doubt—it was Edwin!

  She dashed for the door and raced up the ladder to the deck. Confusion reigned. Men were shouting victoriously as El Feroz began to draw away, its sails billowing while Englishmen on the sinking Spanish ship waved and called their thanks. Lianna rushed to the rail, pushing her way between startled men. “Edwin! Edwin!” she cried.

  “Lianna!” Josh snapped, and the crew faded from the rail. Josh’s arm closed around her.

  “Let me go to him!” Lianna cried, twisting helplessly against arms that held her like iron.

  “Lianna!” The call came again and she turned to see Edwin posed at the rail; then he jumped into the sea to swim toward El Feroz.

  “If he comes aboard, I’ll run him through!” Josh ground out the words savagely.

  “No! Don’t hurt him!”

  “Fletcher! Take her below!”

  As Fletcher reached them, Edwin made it over the side.

  Drawing his sword, Josh whirled to face Edwin. “Get below!” he commanded Lianna.

  “Never! I must see him! Edwin!” she cried.

  Josh snatched up a sword from one of his men and flung it to Edwin who caught it easily. “She’s my wife now!” Josh shouted.

  Lianna screamed as Fletcher carried her down the companionway. She pounded against his broad shoulders, struggling to break free. His arms tightened until she thought she would faint. When he reached the cabin, he set her down. His fingers locked on her shoulders and he shook her, his gray eyes dark with rage.

  “If I were Captain, I’d run the man through and come down and beat you senseless!”

  “You’re as barbaric as he!” she cried. “You haven’t a shred of kindness!”

  “It isn’t ruthlessness that will be Josh’s downfall, but desire!” He slammed the door and locked it behind him.

  Lianna’s head reeled as rage and fear surged in her. “Edwin! Oh, Edwin!” she cried helplessly, pounding against the locked door. Tears streaked her face. If Josh killed him, she would get revenge if it took her last breath! Why had Edwin been on an English ship? What had happened after she had sailed?

  She sank down, the muslin billowing around her legs while she cried. And her feelings took another seesaw turn as uncertainty over what she felt swamped her. How good it had been to see Edwin! He was home and childhood and the awakening from young girlhood all blended together, and she loved him dearly. And when she had seen him, it made Josh and everything that had happened diminish. She wanted to be in Edwin’s arms. To ride with him and to hear him declare his love for her again. To have him kiss her until she fainted with desire. Tears assaulted her again and she put her head in her hands to cry.

  Shortly she moved to first one porthole, then another, trying to catch a glimpse of Edwin, but it was impossible. Dusk settled and still she did not know what had happened. She paused in front of a mirror to gaze at her reddened eyes, her rumpled blue muslin with a white fichu tucked around her shoulders, her tumble of black hair.

  Behind her the cabin door opened and Josh filled the doorway.

  She looked up, questions rushing into her mind. “Edwin. Is he…?”

  He turned the key behind him, locking them in together. Her heart pounded wildly when she saw the hard set to his features. His anger became waves of heat that flickered and scorched her. As he crossed the cabin, he unbuckled the scabbard and tossed it aside. He pulled off his coat and undid the laces of his shirt.

  “You can’t…” She backed away, seeing his intention as clearly as if he had announced it.

  “You’re my wife, Lianna!”

  “I don’t love you! I love Edwin Stafford!” As he reached out to pull her to him, she a
sked, “What happened to Edwin? Did you murder him? Is he alive?”

  “I want to drive Edwin Stafford out of your mind. He’s alive. I wouldn’t kill him and have you mourn forever.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He swam for his ship when we parted. You’re mine, not his. We’re wed! Can’t you understand that? Wed and consummated, and you wound your arms around me and cried out in joy—and you will again.”

  “Don’t remind me!” She blanched and tried to wrench free from the clamp of his hands on her shoulders.

  “You may be with child now!”

  Startled, she looked at him and fury blinded her. To bear his child as he sailed into a revolution and danger, to be compelled to go along on a mission that meant nothing to her, to part from the only man to truly love her—white-hot rage shook her and she lost all caution.

  “And if I am, captain, you’ll have a Spanish heir!”

  The fingers gripping her shoulders bit deeper as his eyes filled with fire. “You’re English! If you’ve lied to me, if you’re actually Quita Bencaria—”

  “No, I’m Lianna Melton, daughter of Charles Melton and his Spanish bride, Josefina Rosa Carmelita Anastacio!”

  She heard the hissing intake of Josh’s breath. “Damn you, woman! You’re lying to me!”

  He glared at her, feeling a stinging hurt because she had lied to him about her heritage. What else had she lied about? He felt betrayed that she hadn’t told him before.

  “It’s the truth. I told you, my father met my mother in his travels as a merchant. Now, will you let me go—or do you want to sire a Spaniard with your name and your blood?”

  The words floated in the air like a black storm cloud in the sky. She wondered what ran through Josh’s mind—if this revelation would give her the freedom she cherished and finally drive him from desiring her. Was it a blow to him, as she intended it to be?

  Suddenly he gathered her effortlessly into his strong arms. In long strides he went abovedecks to the rail and swung her out over the sea.

  19

  Lianna’s breath stopped as she gripped his arms. Moonlight shone fully on his face and the sight of his stormy features frightened her as badly as being held above the dark water.

  “I can drop you, Lianna, and end all possibility of producing a Spanish heir!”

  “You pirate!” she snapped, unable to get her breath.

  “If you’re English and this is a lie, you’d best speak quickly.”

  “I’ve told you the truth.” She shook with fear, but his words rekindled her courage. If she were to die at his hand, she would say her thoughts first. She returned his gaze without wavering. “Go ahead, you ruffian! Fling me into the sea.”

  “Then you’re Spanish, but you’re Lianna Melton, not Quita Bencaria?”

  “Sí, señor,” she said with relish. Beneath the tight grip of her hands she felt the bulge of iron muscles in his arms. Josh Raven had hurt her and forced her into marriage. For the moment she could retaliate. Wind whipped black strands of her hair across his arm, caught the white fichu at the neck of her dress and snatched it away. Tumbling in the air, the fichu, ignored by both Lianna and Josh, fluttered and dropped into the foaming sea, pulled out of sight into the water.

  Just as swiftly as he had lifted her out, he swung her back to the deck. “You’re damned brave,” he said in a voice that was as guttural as a growl and so filled with agony that she wondered what havoc she had wreaked, and suddenly she regretted hurting him. She had spoken in a fit of anger and she began to regret the callous words she had flung at him.

  “And your words of love were also lies, weren’t they, Lianna?” Before she could answer, he continued, “Your love is still Edwin Stafford.”

  She stared at him with conflicting emotions. The shock of seeing Edwin had made her want to be with him and talk to him. And the turmoil over Edwin’s appearance had made her uncertain about what she truly felt for Josh.

  He stared at her, feeling his blood heat in spite of his anger. What other lies had she told him? What other deceptions did she weave? And it occurred to him how easily she could betray him in Chile. He saw he must never reveal all his plans to her; how could he trust her?

  “Spanish,” he said flatly, wondering if she had an English father. Everything she had told him could have been a lie. She stared back at him coolly and he thought about how she had faced him moments ago when her life had been threatened. He remembered her cries for Stafford, and anger gnawed at him. Suddenly his arms tightened and he carried her below, kicking the door shut behind them as he set her on her feet.

  “Now, you leave me alone—” Lianna started to say, then bit off the words at the sight of his face. He reached out, catching the throat of her dress as he ripped it away from her body in one swift movement. The tearing sound was loud in the silence, and she gasped, trying to run, fear surging through her, but his arms caught her.

  As she struggled, he said softly, but in a voice filled with the sharpness of a knife, “Now we’ll see how long you resist or cry out Stafford’s name or try to escape.”

  His head came down as he kissed her neck, and she struggled furiously, wanting to fight him and the insidious fire that started the moment his lips moved on her flesh. Why could he always destroy her resistance? It seemed unfair when they were at cross-purposes half the time. She wanted to give her love to a gentle man, to someone who loved her and wanted her love, not this man who would bind her to him by passion.

  His arms were iron bands that wouldn’t yield, but other than holding her, he used no force. And he needed no force. His lips trailed over her, one hand moved to fondle her breast, and slowly, slowly, Lianna felt all anger burning away in searing caresses that set her aflame. And finally she was in his arms, holding him, stroking him in return, her body aching for him when he possessed her with fiery thrusts until she felt his hot release.

  She lay with her eyes closed, her arms around him, words of love almost ready to surface, when he rolled away and stood up, snatching up his breeches as he looked at her in the lantern’s glow.

  “All I can think about is to wonder what else you have lied to me about.” He stood staring down at her. “You’ll get your wish about bed, Lianna. I’ve paid a king’s ransom for your body. I’ve given you my name—now I have the benefit of neither. We can’t turn back, but you’ll get your freedom when this is over.”

  His boots clacked on the boards as he dressed swiftly and strode away to take over the helm. She closed her eyes. She had won her freedom from Josh Raven.

  She gazed at the empty space beside her on the moonlit bunk, and an unwanted memory came to mind swiftly, of Josh Raven’s vigorous bronzed body stretched beside her as he kissed her passionately, his green eyes looking at her with joy. She thrust the thought away and wondered if he would move her to the small cramped cabin again.

  The chill she experienced worsened. She gathered a coverlet around her to huddle uncomfortably. She had won! He would not take her to bed—he would return her home and end the marriage. Suddenly the victory rang hollow. How pained he had looked! How could he be anything besides vexed at her admission? Why had he looked agonized? Did he truly hate her Spanish heritage so much? Or had he been so angered because he had discovered she had been untruthful to him? She felt hot tears sting her eyes and fought them, deciding it was the culmination of everything that had happened that day, but she hurt more than she had ever hurt over Edwin or anything else in her past.

  Finally dawn’s gray light filtered through the panes, dimly lighting the cabin. Outside, Josh stood with his hand against the door a moment before he stiffened his shoulders and entered. “You’ll move to another cabin,” he said, and hated the slam of his heart against his ribs at the sight of her. Why couldn’t he get her out of his system? She had deceived him; she loved another man and had cried out for him desperately, yet she was like a heady wine that took all reason and thickened his blood. And while he seethed with anger, he had to fight the temptation to loo
k at the soft swell of her breasts rising above the neckline of her muslin dress. Her wide blue eyes met his unflinchingly, forcing his grudging respect.

  “Get everything you want,” he said.

  “Of course,” she answered with a toss of her head. She gathered her clothing, dropping the portmanteau.

  In two long strides he crossed to scoop it up and take the clothing from her. Wordlessly he held the door and slammed it behind them.

  Swirling the cape around her shoulders, Lianna lifted her chin while his silent rage swept over her like a winter storm. He held open the cabin door, followed her inside, and flung the portmanteau onto the hammock.

  “I should have guessed why your father pledged your hand to a Spaniard,” he said. “I was so bedazzled with you that I accepted your answer and everything else you’ve said to me without question.”

  “If I’m without child, you’ve lost little, Captain Raven, once you dissolve this marriage.”

  To her surprise, her statement made his scowl deepen. He gave a dry, mirthless laugh. “So I have bound myself in a web of my own weaving. I should have known better—”

  “You’re not bound by anything!”

  “If only that were true!” He turned and left.

  Lianna stared after him, then sank down on the hammock and shook with an aftermath of reaction. Josh, bound by anything—impossible! What lay ahead when he was so furious with her? They sailed into a land of intrigue and danger—and she rode with a man who despised her, who wanted to be free of her. How long would she be safe if danger threatened?

  Thereafter, as much as possible aboard ship, Josh Raven ignored her. Days ran together while they sailed southward, and Lianna found a friend in an older member of the crew, Morley, who had a daughter nearly her age. Morley provided paper and pen and Lianna whiled away the long days at sea sketching pictures of the ship and crew, carefully avoiding its captain, yet aware down to the tiniest nerve when he was present.

  Finally, at the end of May, they anchored in the bay of Valparaiso, and Fletcher appeared at Lianna’s cabin.