by Jackie Ivie
“You are barbaric.”
He shrugged. She wouldn’t have seen it though. “I’m not asking again.”
“Asking what? I’m not lowering myself to respond to your words anymore, Monsieur. I’ll have you know I have taken on more than a little ladder like this in my life. And men like you?” She made a derisive snort. “I can spit out two for sup!”
He looked heavenward before plucking her from the steps as if she weren’t even holding to the railing. Her gasp at his actions brought a smile to his mouth as he settled her against him, one arm beneath the crook of her knees and one behind her shoulders. He had to fight the immediate response his body was giving him though. That he could do without, especially as it didn’t appear to be reciprocated. He felt the immediate stiffening of her limbs and tightened his grip on her.
“Don’t fight me, Linna. You might harm my babe.”
“Of all the conceited nonsense!”
“I said stop. You won’t like the consequences.”
“I don’t give a blather about your consequences, you barbaric, overgrown boor!”
Before she had the chance to struggle, he rolled his arms, pinning her against his chest. It wasn’t difficult. She was a tiny imp of a thing, and he hadn’t spent ten years at hard work for nothing. He held her so closely, he swore he could feel the quickening beat of her heart against his. He guessed the reason. He frightened her.
But if that were true, why the continuing argument? Her lower lip trembled just before it tightened. Cord watched it and thought about how kissable she was able to make it look. He was on his way to touch his mouth to hers and decide for himself when she spoke again.
“I suppose you think this is accomplishing something,” she said with her usual sarcasm. He noticed she still hadn’t opened her eyes though.
Cord sighed and lifted his head away. “You’re off the ladder, you’re not arguing, and you feel rather good in my arms. I’d say I’m accomplishing quite a bit.”
The slight stain of a blush bloomed on the cheek right below his nose. Cord stiffened. He couldn’t help it. He’d taken Fletcher’s job for another reason. He’d seen her painted image in the locket. He’d wanted her then. He still did. The one night hadn’t dulled anything. It had merely ignited the desire to a worse state. He’d already decided to go back for her before Fletch had showed up at the plantation – uninvited, serious as hell, and threatening to blow a hole through him if he didn’t. Cord’s arrival just before she came out of house, intent on eloping with that boy had tested his temper more than she realized.
He didn’t think he’d have dispatched her intended groom. He was just lucky he hadn’t had to have it tested. She was making him afraid of all the conflicting emotions. The main one right now was having her body in his arms. He sucked in on his cheek. He was afraid of her opening her eyes and seeing it.
“Loosen your hold, Cord,” she whispered.
“You done fighting?”
“You might harm the child.”
His arms instantly loosened, although he didn’t let her go. He watched the satisfaction cross her face. He didn’t like it.
“Are we on level flooring yet?”
“Why?”
“I’ve decided that I like being held like this, by you, worse than any of your consequences.”
“You don’t even want to know what they are?”
“You’re the barbarian. Enlighten me.”
He nuzzled his nose against her throat. There was a pulse jumping against his flesh. He ran his upper lip along it before sucking on it.
“Wh—what do you think you are doing?”
The stammering, as well as her trembling, gave him the clue he needed. He smiled against her skin. “Your consequences, remember?”
“You can’t just—”
“Can’t I?” He ran his lips along the slender line of her jaw, molding them to her chin to lick the soft underside of it. He didn’t think he imagined her moan. He didn’t know if she was trembling anymore either. His own shuddering overshadowed it.
“I won’t just let you–”
“You haven’t any choice in the matter, lady.” He almost had his mouth where he most wanted it – against hers, when she spoke again. She might as well have thrown cold water on him when she gasped with pain.
“The baby!”
Cord’s head shot up. “What is it? What? What should I do?”
“Nothing,” she replied. “It...was nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Yes, nothing. Just as your caresses were. You may unhand me now.”
She was looking at him, belying whatever reaction he’d thought she’d experienced. Cord spend endless moments looking into the dark-fringed, golden brown of her eyes before realizing what she’d just done. Then, his narrowed. He only knew one way to deal with emotion: end it. Just as he had every other emotion for the last decade. It wasn’t easy, but it was his own fault. He’d given her the weapon.
“What’s the matter, Monsieur Cord? Having difficulty hearing? I just said to unhand me.”
“If I didn’t think it would harm my son, I’d drop you on your well-rounded ass, lady. Count yourself lucky. You won’t be again.”
“Unhand me and allow me to walk then.”
“Is that want you want?”
“How many times must I say it?”
“Then the answer is no. I’ll not unhand you. If my touch is so abhorrent, guess what you’ve just earned.”
“You can’t be serious. We had a bargain.”
“And I distinctly heard you give me permission to hold you and touch you and carry you if any passage was too narrow or too high. I believe this passage qualifies as both. Look about you.”
“Since they probably put you in the bowels of the ship, there could hardly be any height to this passage....”
Her voice ended. Cord knew why. He was taking the plank walkway down into the hold. It wasn’t the only way to reach his cabin, but it was the most effective. He knew that as she tightened her grip on his shoulders. He only wished it wasn’t as pleasant as it was. He wasn’t going to let her know any of it. She already had one thing to use against him: his baby. “You still want me to put you down?” he whispered against her hair.
“Just get me to your stall and let me go.”
“Stall?” he asked.
“I don’t have to see it to know what kind of accommodations you’ll have. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“I think I’m flattered,” Cord answered.
“Flattered? You’re dense.”
“Stalls are for stallions, non?”
She gasped and reddened. He felt an answering reaction all the way to his temples. He was beginning to hope they reached his room soon.
“You’re despicable.”
“I’ve improved from barbaric then. That’s a comfort. Watch your head.” He said the last as he ducked his head to enter the enclosure he’d purchased. The rest of the men slept on hammocks strung from the rafters about the common room. At least he had a door and four walls.
“Good heavens, this is your room?”
“And yours. You’ll learn to enjoy it.”
“Enjoy it? There’s not even enough room to turn around.”
“Then don’t turn around.”
She lowered her eyelids and favored him with a look probably reserved for sending her unwelcome beaux packing. Cord felt the response in his gut. He’d never come across such malevolence in such a beautiful wrapping.
“How long am I to be held your prisoner then?” she asked.
“Lifetime sentence. I heard the priest. So did you.”
Her lips tightened. It wasn’t as much as his though. “I mean, how long are you going to keep me in this—. This—.”
She didn’t finish, but he knew what she meant. Cord swiveled his hips, leaning against the wall that held the fold-out bed. Then he released her legs and let her slide to the floor beside him, holding her steady until she found her balance. It wasn’t intentiona
l, but every bit of his side was against every bit of her. That was creating the same spiral of hell he’d experienced at the ball. He only hoped she wouldn’t note it. His lack of control over his craving would just give her another weapon to use.
“Voyage takes a week,” he finally replied.
“A week,” she said, flatly. “Seven days?”
“Barring a storm. That lengthens it. Have you ever ridden out a storm at sea?”
“I’ve never been at sea.”
He snorted in disgust. “You don’t even know if you’re the seasick type? Wonderful.”
“I’ve rarely been sick a day in my life!”
“Carrying the child doesn’t make you ill?”
“Only its father.”
Cord narrowed his eyes. “There’s your trunk. Make yourself comfortable. I’ve duties to see to.”
“Thank you for pointing out everything. Rest assured I can find anything else I need. Shouldn’t be hard. There’s no place to hide anything. You don’t even have a cot.”
Cord’s lips twisted before he moved, taking them both to the doorway. He pulled on the rope that released his bed. That it consisted only of a narrow plank, a thin mattress of ill-used, clumping feathers, and two frayed quilts made it look even more squalid than he recalled.
“You got taken for your coin, Cord,” she said finally.
“I’m not a paying guest. I work. I’ve a shift ahead. I spoke of it already.”
She blew the sound of disgust through her top lip. Cord flushed.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said.
“Oh please. I’m jammed into a box, and he’s saying it’s not as bad as it looks? The man needs lessons on diplomacy.”
“Do you talk to yourself often?”
“When I’m surrounded by nincompoops, incompetents, and imbeciles, yes.”
“Which am I then?”
She looked over at him. Cord tensed for what she’d say. He was doing his best to hide any reaction to whatever she said, but she had a way of getting under his skin. He was beginning to think he needed to work his shift just to get away from her and gather his wits.
“None of them. I forgot to add barbarians.”
He grinned. “Oh. Barbarian I can handle. Avail yourself of the accommodations. You’re going to need your rest.”
“And where am I to sleep?”
“On the bed I just showed you.”
“That’s a bed?”
He shrugged. “It’s secure enough. It handled my weight and I’m not light. I’ve got quite a bit of meat to my frame, as you may have noticed.”
He moved his arm from behind her shoulder, put both his hands together, and flexed everything to see her reaction. He knew he had a physique men envied and women purred over. He’d never failed to get cries of amazement from the women. That’s why Cord always got his pick. Always.
He knew his body was impressive. Simons hadn’t ceased talking about it after he’d fitted him for clothing. Linna hadn’t been disappointed on their one night either. None of his knowledge helped though. She had her face away so Cord couldn’t see her reaction or if she even had one. For some reason, the disappointment was a harder emotion to stanch than the coldness of her reaction to his caress. He frowned and brought his arms back down to his sides.
“Anyway, if it can handle my weight, it shouldn’t have much problem with yours. It can probably handle both of us. We’ll test it, if you’re worried.”
She made a choking noise. Cord had to shut his eyes to kill that feeling, too. She didn’t want him. She didn’t appreciate him. She didn’t desire him. She hadn’t missed him and what had occurred. She probably wished he’d left her to that twit she’d been marrying. He lifted both hands to pull his hat off his hair and hang it from a rafter.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she asked, in a small voice.
“Getting ready. Hats blow off. They block your view. I scale the rigging. I can’t afford that sort of distraction.”
“Scale the rigging? What does that mean?”
“Climb it. I move sails, check lines, scan water. Sailor things. You needn’t fret. I’m very good at it. I can do it with my eyes closed.”
“Can you do that at night?”
“When necessary. I don’t work the night, though, unless you wish it.”
“If it will get you out of my cabin, yes. Please. Work the night.”
He sighed. “That wasn’t my meaning. Let me make it quite clear. If I work through the night, I’ll be working...in here. With you. You’re quite the taskmaster, as I recall. I could scarcely walk after the night you put me through.”
She wasn’t just choking now. She sounded like she was gagging. Cord’s mouth thinned. Rejection wasn’t an easy emotion to ignore, he was finding. He reached for his kerchief and tied it about his head, knotting it with too much force at the back. He knew he’d be paying for it if he left it that tight. He didn’t loosen it. He’d rather concentrate on a headache than the cold-hearted woman before him.
“You should have everything you need.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Make me a list. I’ll see about your requirements when I return.”
“You’re returning then?”
He swallowed before answering. He needed the time. “It’s my cabin. I return. I sleep here. So do you. I suggest you get some today while I’m gone.”
“I can’t sleep in that thing.”
“Try. You’ll need it.”
“Why would that be, I ask?”
“Haven’t you been listening? When I get to bed, it’ll be late, and I’m especially restless then. You should know. You’ve seen it.”
Cord watched the expressions crossing her face. He was hard put not to laugh as she closed her eyelids for a fraction and let a completely satisfied look creep back onto her face before changing it. It revealed what she was hiding. It had an instant effect on him, as well. He had to turn aside. Her mouth may be rejecting him, but that look nearly undid him. He wasn’t due at the crow’s nest for another hour, but he’d be early. Any longer in her presence, and he’d be tossing their bargain to the winds, making certain of her acceptance, and showing her what the bunk was good for.
“Besides, with your eyes closed, you can imagine yourself in a castle or anywhere else, for that matter. I should know. I’ve had a decade of practice.”
“Ten years?”
“Ancient history. I’ll tell you sometime if you’re interested and I can keep my mind on it, instead of—.”
“What if I try and escape?” she interrupted.
“Don’t bruise yourself overmuch at your attempt. You’re carrying my son. Always remember that. I am.”
“I’m serious, Cord.”
“So am I. Look. You’re terrified of the route to get out of here, you’re safely wed, and if I find you outside this cabin, I’ll have to touch you again when I carry you back.”
“So?”
“I’m a man. You’re a woman. You’ve already labeled me a barbarian and a stallion. I can prove both.”
“Despicable was too good a word now that I’ve heard this. I’ll improve on it, and your idle threats won’t keep me here. My fear of heights? Maybe. You finding me and carrying me back? Necessary touching. I survived it before. I don’t see the threat.”
“Is that a challenge? Because I told you once I don’t need a bed. We’ll find out how adept you are while standing. It’s been three months, darling. I’ve not had a woman since you…and I’m a hard man to satisfy. Remember?”
He closed the door on whatever her reaction was. He didn’t want to see it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sunlight from the window slit woke her. Linna lay for a moment, enjoying the warmth as it touched her cheeks and eyelashes. She felt well-rested, and despite every appearance to the contrary about the mattress, comfortably secure, too. She stretched on the bed, pulling her covering awry as she did so.
Cord had been right and she smiled slightly, diggi
ng her toes further into the quilt. It was easy to pretend to be anywhere with your eyes closed.
The door creaked shut and Linna’s eyes flew open. She barely had time to clasp the quilt to her throat as she sat up, narrowly missing the ceiling beam holding his hat. She knew the covering wasn’t enough. She knew and didn’t even have to ask. The angle of his eye told her as much, and the nonchalant way he leaned against the door while he untied the scarf about his head.
Linna gulped. She probably shouldn’t have changed out of her clothing, but he hadn’t come to her room all day and all night. She knew because she’d waited for him until exhaustion had set in, and beyond a plate of food left at her door, he hadn’t even checked on her.
He was still silently appraising her. Linna lifted her chin. She hadn’t any control over the way her body had changed since the baby, but it was easy to see the increase to the size of her bosom. She watched as he went from looking at it, to her face, then back again. Despite her every effort, she felt her own nipples tighten at his actions. The fine lawn of her chemise felt teasingly rough, too.
That isn’t fair, she thought.
“Miss me?”
“What...ever gave you that idea?” she answered back. She was pleased that after the first word, her voice came out as authoritative as usual.
“You’re especially beautiful when you sleep,” he answered, finally moving the moss green of his gaze from her chest.
Linna’s eyes widened the instant they connected with his. She had to look away. He was worse than unfair.
“A man can almost forget the venom that comes from your mouth.”
The look she favored him with was meant to be as icy as possible. She only hoped it worked. She sucked in on her cheeks, puffed her lips out, and narrowed her eyes. He was still doing devastating things to her pulse. She could only pray it didn’t show somewhere for him to read.
He hadn’t changed his clothing. It didn’t detract from him, but she’d guessed as much at the church. He does look good in anything, she decided. There wasn’t a hint of whisker on his finely chiseled jaw, and it would have been helpful. She needed it to keep her mind off how gorgeous he was. She didn’t need a reminder of that.