Captive Embraces

by Fern Michaels

  “Yes, I suppose I would have,” he answered truthfully. She was the most exquisite creature he had ever seen and merely being near her did odd things to his pulse. “Would you have come with me?” he asked huskily.

  For an answer, Camilla gazed into his eyes, allowing him to see there a torrent of emotion. Abruptly, she looked away, a faint blush on her smooth cheeks, and retreated slightly as though putting herself out of temptation’s way. Several paces distant, she stopped and leaned over the rail, studying the star-filled night.

  Caleb felt as though his heart would rise up in his throat and choke him. He had to be near her, even the few feet separating them made him feel as though he’d stepped into shadow after the bright warming sun. She was so lovely, and in her pale blue gown she looked like a spring flower basking in the moonlight.

  Sirena’s eyes had narrowed as she watched Caleb and Camilla leave the main room. She had thrown the dice and left her winnings on the board, to the astonishment of the company. Quietly, she had followed Caleb and Camilla across the familiar deck. She knew each creaking plank, each worm hole in the salt-scrubbed deck. It was several minutes before she found the young duo at the rail of the stern looking out over the water. Their manner was so intimate she became embarrassed and was about to leave when she saw Caleb bring up his hand and gently stroke Camilla’s cheek. The girl leaned her face into the palm of his hand, searching his face as he gazed into her eyes.

  Camilla seemed to shiver involuntarily and Caleb swiftly removed his frock coat and gently placed it around her shoulders, bringing it close around her neck. Sirena knew that Camilla had aroused Caleb’s protective instincts. She was the first woman he had ever seemed truly interested in, and in the manner of all young men, he imagined himself Camilla’s knight on white charger. She flattered his masculinity, catered to his virility and swept him into her carefully spun web.

  Sirena watched, all her female instincts knowing Camilla’s ploy. Oh, Caleb, she sighed silently. I thought I taught you about wily women! Unbidden to Sirena’s mind came the memory of Caleb as a child and his protectiveness toward her. She recalled how, as a lad, he had sought to save her from the lecherous crewman, Wooster. He had put his life on the line for her that day, taking up sword against the seaman and risking death, to protect her.

  An anger rose up in Sirena, directed toward Regan. Camilla was too young for him. The anger subsided and worry took its place. Caleb was playing with fire when he entertained thoughts of Camilla. If Regan should ever find out, Caleb would be placing himself in as great a danger as he did when he confronted that scurve, Wooster.

  Sirena drew in her breath as Caleb’s voice carried across to her and she heard him murmur to Camilla that her eyes were unequaled by the stars and her hair was liquid silver in the moonlight. They leaned closer to one another as though pulled by an invisible force. Caleb gathered Camilla near him and brought her lips to his in a long, lingering kiss. Camilla’s smooth, white arms tightened about his broad back as she strained closer.

  Sirena felt her heart pound as she heard faint words from Caleb and watched them make their way to the captain’s cabin where Regan had made love to her so long ago. When they were out of sight, Sirena saw the irony of the situation and threw back her head and laughed, the sound carrying out over the water and coming back to rest at her feet. “You’re too late, Regan. Your son has no need of a brothel. Like father, like son.”

  Back in the main room, Sirena managed to wiggle her way between Stephan and Regan. Regan was making losing tosses of the dice time and again. Stephan, however, had won a modest sum, to Sirena’s amusement. From Regan’s expression, not only was he losing, he was also on the verge of inebriation.

  “Mynheer van der Rhys, I believe Camilla is looking for you,” Sirena said, a wicked smile on her face. “She was strolling the deck a minute ago and the poor child seemed lost. I assume she lacks your attention.”

  Regan turned, glanced at her and left. Stephan took her arm and escorted her back to their table.

  “What do you think, Sirena? God, how I wish I’d thought of doing something like this myself. The lucky fellow who owns this enterprise will make a fortune in a fortnight. Lord Aubrey Farrington is part owner, I understand.”

  “Then you don’t realize that your step-grandson is his partner.”

  Stephan looked at her quizzically.

  “Didn’t you realize Regan has a full-grown son, Caleb. This is his ship. How nice for you, two entrepreneurs in the family!”

  Stephan Langdon seemed shocked to learn Regan already had a son, but he didn’t seem altogether displeased. “I had no idea; Camilla never mentioned—”

  “It’s possible she didn’t know.”

  Mentally, Stephan calculated what effect Regan having a son would have on Camilla’s prospects to inherit his fortune. Deciding that the loss would be negligible, he brightened. The younger van der Rhys would certainly extend credit to his prospective step-grandfather. “Whatever. I am proud to have such an inventive young man join my family. Our family,” he quickly amended. “Perhaps I can give him a few pointers. For one point, exclusivity is the key to a thriving establishment. Perhaps I should avail this Caleb van der Rhys of my knowledge of such matters. Of course, Lord Farrington has a certain acquaintanceship with these things, but I fear he lacks the important degree of finesse. Is something wrong, Sirena,” he interrupted himself, “you suddenly seem very quiet.”

  “A raging headache, Stephan. I wonder if you would mind calling it a night? We can return some other time.”

  “Darling, we haven’t seen the gypsy dancers yet!” Stephan declared, unwilling to accommodate the request.

  “I have seen all manner of gypsy dancers in Spain and I told you I have a headache. If you refuse to escort me, I will avail myself of your coach and go alone,” Sirena said hotly.

  Stephan recovered himself and spoke warmly. “Forgive me, darling. I allowed myself to be carried away with the gala atmosphere. I couldn’t bear to have you suffer. Can you forgive my thoughtlessness?” He became solicitous and led her out onto the deck.

  “Look, Stephan, there’s the Dutchman and he doesn’t seem to have had much luck in locating your daughter.”

  “Regan, where is Camilla?” Stephan called.

  Regan weaved his way to the railing and looked at Sirena first and then at his future father-in-law. “I don’t know where the hell she is,” he slurred. “An explanation will be in order when I do find her.”

  “Perhaps I can be of some help,” Sirena offered. “I saw her walking the deck with a handsome young man. She called him Caleb, if my memory serves me.”

  Regan noticed her inflection when she said ‘young man.’ “And that pleases you, doesn’t it? It’s made your evening complete,” he said savagely, gripping her arm.

  “See here, Regan. Remove your hand from the lady; your drunkenness in unbecoming. If a man cannot hold his liquor, he should not drink.” Stephan raised his voice.

  “If a man cannot control his daughter, then he should not take her out in public,” Regan countered menacingly.

  “I hesitate to remind you it was you who brought Camilla here. And it was you who left her to her own devices for amusement while you gambled!”

  “I knew this was a wicked ship, a wicked, wicked ship,” Sirena said coyly. “That is the reason Stephan is taking me home. I really don’t think this is a fitting place for a lady and dear, dear Camilla—why, anything could have happened to her. That man certainly was strong. Why, one little flick of his hand and she would be ... pulp!”

  Stephan had no intention of telling the lovely Sirena that the demure Camilla would have the gentleman over the railing in a split second if she wanted. He would have to find her before van der Rhys had second thoughts about marrying her. Stupid girl, what was she up to?

  “Stephan, Mynheer van der Rhys is absolutely correct. Camilla needs a controlling hand; and, until their marriage, the chore is yours. The poor child needs supervision. Poor baby
, something absolutely awful must have happened to her.”

  “Shut up, Sirena,” Regan said harshly.

  Stephan stiffened. He was in a most untenable situation. He hesitated to encourage Regan’s wrath and perhaps ruin Camilla’s chances, yet he was honor-bound to protect Sirena from the Dutchman’s insults. “Regan, I must caution you not to speak to Sirena that way. The only reason I won’t call you out is you’re betrothed to my daughter and you’re drunk.” Fine perspiration broke out on Stephan’s brow.

  “Disgusting,” Sirena said pertly. “I will overlook his rudeness, Stephan, because I am so worried about Camilla. Do you think we should organize a search party? I, for one, would be glad to help.”

  Stephan’s tone was suspicious. “I believe you said you had a headache and wanted to go home.”

  “Do you think for one minute I would be able to sleep with that infant lost? What kind of woman do you take me for?” she demanded virtuously. “Come, Mynheer, I will help you find her,” she said, taking Regan’s arm.

  Stephan uttered a cry of relief. “There’s no need, darling, here is Camilla now. Young woman, where have you been?” he asked firmly.

  “It was such a lovely evening I thought I would explore the deck while Regan had his turn at the table,” Camilla said happily.

  Regan was glaring at Camilla, and Sirena wondered if he noticed her lips were slightly swollen. Leaning near Regan, Sirena whispered, “You really must tell me where she’s been the next time we meet. If for some reason her excuses don’t satisfy you, seek me out and I’ll be happy to tell you.” She gathered her skirts in her hand and deboarded with Stephan, leaving Regan staring after her with rage engulfing his features.

  Sirena was very quiet on the ride home and Stephan soon tired of trying to engage her in conversation. Her thoughts swung back to Regan and what he would do if he discovered Caleb was romantically involved with Camilla. Belatedly, she realized she shouldn’t have baited Regan. The last thing in this world she wanted was for him to learn where Camilla had been ... and with whom.

  Relations were strained between Regan and his son as it was. This was a breech that would never heal! Caleb’s disloyalty and Camilla’s infidelity would never be forgiven. She thought of the relationship once enjoyed between Regan and Caleb and a lump swelled in her throat. Theirs was a loving bond and it had always included her and Mikel. They were so alike, the man she loved and his son, and they never forgot for a minute that it was because of her they were together again.

  Regan and Caleb had once shared something beautiful and they still could. This breach would not last their lifetimes. Pushing back the tears of regret that something she had almost said would have destroyed the two people she loved most in the world, she resolved she would never tell Regan anything.

  Regan helped Camilla into the carriage, all signs of drunkenness gone as he thrust her against the side of the seat. “Now, tell me where you were and what you were doing! You made me the fool in front of your father and that Spanish witch.”

  Camilla allowed a tear to spill down her cheek. She had no intention of telling him where she had been. Her body still ached for Caleb. The soul-shattering ecstasy in his arms was something she would want again and again. “Dearest Regan, I was so piqued when you left me for a pair of dice, I just knew I had to go outdoors for a breath of air to compose myself. A gentleman was smoking one of those filthy cigars and giving me a headache. When your son offered to point out several attractions of his ship, I agreed. Soon after, he was called away on a matter of business. What harm was done?” she asked softly, nestling closer to him. “Regan, are you jealous? How gallant of you!” she giggled. “I quite adore you when you’re like this. And darling, please, you mustn’t concern yourself about being made a fool. No one could ever do that. You’re so strong, so manly,” she breathed. “As for Sirena, she would never consider my behavior unladylike. She’s so earthy. Why, she has been in my father’s bed many times,” Camilla lied. “I’m not a child, Regan. I know what is going on around me, and you must believe me when I tell you my evening was innocent.”

  A chill washed over Regan. He withdrew his arm from her, his muscles tensed. Camilla continued to speak. “I have a feeling, mind you, it is only a hunch, but I think something will develop between them. I’ve seen the way she looks at him, and I suspect she would like to become Lady Langdon,” Camilla babbled on. “Of course, my father is not a fool. I’m certain he will do the honorable thing and marry her sooner or later.”

  On and on Camilla babbled, till Regan thought he would lose all patience.

  Why did he feel this way? What Sirena did with her life was her own business, just as what he did was his own. Something deep inside him knew that Camilla was lying to him about her evening stroll and about Sirena. Camilla had been with Caleb and ...

  The carriage had come to a halt and Camilla waited for Regan to escort her to her door. “Darling Regan, I am so sorry I neglected you,” she pouted. “When we’re married, I’ll be at your side constantly. I’ll be the most devoted wife in all England.” She held up her face for his kiss and immediately went into the house.

  Regan walked back to the carriage with the thought racing through his head that he should return to the Sea Siren and beat the truth out of Caleb. His broad shoulders slumped and he brought his hands to his temples when he relaxed against the seat. Camilla wasn’t worth it. He knew he didn’t love her; she was only a means to an end. Suddenly, he felt like retching. Sirena was right; even he had a price. Nothing was working out the way he planned it.

  Camilla danced up to her room and flounced down on the bed. Her thoughts were on Caleb and her hour with him. Tonight, there were no thoughts about her empty stomach and the food she had cached away in her reticule. She lay back, a dreamy expression on her face.

  The last patron gone, the bolt secure, Lord Farrington began to count the night’s profits. From time to time he smiled happily as he divided the money into separate piles. Caleb watched him, a strange look lighting his eyes. In one night he had become a successful businessman, seduced his father’s betrothed and antagonized Sirena. In the last few hours he had left the last vestiges of boyhood behind. He had found love.

  When Camilla had crept from the bunk to return to the gaming hall, he had felt no remorse, only complete satisfaction. All the other times and all the other women meant nothing. This time it had been different. Camilla was special.

  He sighed happily as he watched Lord Farrington fill two pouches with the profits and separate what they would need to pay expenses.

  When Camilla had bent over his naked body and whispered in his ear that she would return, he had thought he had died and gone to Heaven. Clutching her to him, he had kissed her ardently till she was breathless. Gently, he had pushed her away. “Another time,” he had whispered in her ear.

  “No,” Camilla had panted. “Again! Again, Caleb,” she had said, slipping her gown off her shoulder so he could see one creamy, coral-tipped breast.

  Caleb had licked dry lips and straightened her gown. “Another time,” he had stated firmly. Some instinct had cautioned him that this was not the time to satisfy their wants. Another long, passionate kiss and Camilla, her breathing harsh and ragged in the quiet cabin, gathered up her reticule and left, but only after bestowing on Caleb a long and promising look.

  “I will count the hours and the minutes,” she had whispered.

  Caleb grinned and forced his attention back to the present. “Well, how did we do tonight?” he asked.

  “With what we took in tonight, we could both live comfortably for a long time. But that’s not the end of it, eh Caleb, my boy? A toast, Caleb, to our success,” Aubrey Farrington said, pouring wine into two goblets. “To our continued success,” he said, regarding Caleb over the rim of the glass. His rheumy eyes narrowed slightly when he noticed the expression on Caleb’s face. He had seen that look before, worn it himself as a matter of fact. “And which of the ladies offered you her favors? Don’t deny it
, lad, it’s there on your face.”

  Caleb shrugged and drained his goblet, not offering any explanations.

  “You’ll soon discover you have your pick of women, and most will want to crawl between the sheets with you. Do yourself a favor, lad. Taste them all and don’t tie yourself to one. There’s a long life ahead, long and profitable, and if you play your cards right, it will be very enjoyable.”

  Farrington laughed at his little witticism and Caleb joined him, leaning back and stretching his long, muscular legs in front of him. He was completely relaxed. When he moved, Lord Farrington was reminded of a large, jungle cat who had felled his prey. Caleb enjoyed his women and made the best of his lusty appetites. Whatever, if he were to indulge his manly prowess, he wouldn’t pay too much attention to the profits.

  Stephan Langdon burst into his darkened house calling for Camilla at the top of his voice. He had never been so furious with her in her whole life! It had taken all his control not to thrash her there on the gambling folly in the presence of Regan and Sirena. She had very nearly ruined their plans and he would see it never happened again. That romantic dalliance with Regan’s son had very nearly cost them the marriage to the wealthy van der Rhys.

  Bounding up the stairs toward Camilla’s room, the rage welled up in him, reddening his finely drawn features. He knew if he didn’t get himself under control Camilla would be the worse for it. “Camilla! Camilla, you little fool! I mean to see you, so open this door!”

  Camilla had been lying against her pillows dreaming of Caleb’s strong embrace and ardent lovemaking when she heard the front door bang shut announcing her father’s return. She knew he would be angry with her and she sincerely hoped he would leave her to herself until morning. She wanted nothing to interrupt her languid thoughts of the tall, dark-eyed young man whom she had only this night discovered was Regan’s son. Caleb was vital, daring and enthusiastic. Regan was a strong, fascinating man, but he was so staid, so mature. He lacked imagination. That was the difference, Camilla decided. Regan had never attempted to take her to bed. He treated her as though she were a mere child whose head was empty of everything save a new gown or pretty hats. Regan had never even thought to scratch her surface to find the sensuous woman who lurked beneath. But Caleb, yes, Caleb was quite a man. His youth was appealing, exciting, with a wild, urgent quality no woman could resist.