Linna : Historical Romance (The Brocade Collection, Book 5)

by Jackie Ivie

  The planks blurred with more tears and Linna watched it helplessly. She should have known this would happen, too.

  “Please?” she whispered.

  “I won’t have you losing my baby just because you hate me and will it so.”

  “I—.”

  How can he think such a thing of me? She wondered it, but knew the answer. Because he thought she hated him. Of course he would think that included his child, too.

  “Simons tells me you aren’t eating.”

  “He lies,” she answered, still in the same whisper.

  “You are eating then?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “And you’re not ill?”

  “No.”

  “That’s a relief. We’ll arrive tonight. We’ll won’t dock until dawn. The island has wicked shoals. Takes a bit of work to safely get a ship through them without grounding it. I wouldn’t like to have a sickly female on my hands.”

  Linna sniffed noisily, despite her every effort not to.

  “You crying?”

  “I never cry,” she replied, holding one of her towels to her face and letting the cool dampness filter onto her flushed skin. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to use it like that, and it still felt soothing.

  “Yeah. Right. Try again.”

  He was using the same mocking words, but his voice was gentle. That, more than anything, stiffened her spine and helped dry her eyes. Linna wiped at her cheeks and turned back around.

  “See?” she said, forcing him to look at her eyes instead of where he was looking. She wasn’t wearing much, although she hadn’t started out that way. She’d donned her heaviest cambric nightgown last night in the event he came back and tried to sleep at her side. She hadn’t slept though, and it had been too hot and her clean silken chemise had seemed like enough. It chaffed her that the bed thing was chest-level to him, allowing him a very good look up the entire length of her, but that couldn’t be helped. She was already in a defenseless posture. Adjusting her position wouldn’t help.

  “You sleep well?” he asked in a level tone.

  “Did you?” she countered.

  “Decks aren’t the easiest place to bed down…but they work.”

  She didn’t answer that. If he bed down on the deck, it wasn’t anything to her. She didn’t care if he slept or with whom. God, please make that true! She begged it in her thoughts.

  “What do you want?” she asked as he started unbuttoning his shirt, as if it were perfectly normal, and she hadn’t screamed at him to get out and never come back.

  “If I tell you, will you give it to me?”

  Linna gasped. He had the shirt undone, peeled off, and tossed to the floor before she could think of an answer. He had to know how effective his body was at making it feel like her limbs were so much water and her tongue useful only for sucking on....

  She groaned and caught his look.

  “Your eye has gone down. That’s a good thing. For me. Simons has already put it out that we fight, and we fight hard.”

  “He...what?”

  “Put out his version of the truth. Who am I to argue it? The evidence is hard to contradict.”

  “What...is that supposed...to mean?” For God’s sake put some clothing on! She pleaded silently.

  “Evidence. You. Your eye.”

  “My eye?” she asked. Simons hadn’t so much as glanced at her, and when he had, she’d been pasting herself to the wall.

  “You’re sporting a black eye, and I’m marked all the way from my ear to my shoulder blade.”

  He tipped his head and treated her to sight of where she’d mauled him with her lips. Linna felt herself reddening.

  “Don’t say another word. Not one,” she replied.

  He shrugged, moving as many muscles on his chest as he could, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Then he dropped his attention to his trouser buttons.

  “What are...you doing?”

  “Not what it looks like. Trust me. I’m not fond of rejection. I’m not willing to risk a repeat. Not just yet, anyway,” he finished.

  “Then what are you doing?”

  “Anything I want. This is my room, remember?”

  Linna set her lips to keep anything from coming out. He was peeling his pants down, lifting each leg to shove them off, and her heart was thumping right into her throat at the sight. If only he were ugly, or had some deformation, or long scars, or...or anything!

  “You ready for breakfast?” he asked, although he didn’t look up as he said it.

  “We don’t do well at breakfast,” she replied.

  He looked up and smiled, bringing the little crease in his forehead into existence. It was caressed by the errant lock of hair that always seemed to accompany it, too. Linna felt like rewarding herself for actually keeping her mouth from gaping open.

  “I’ll have Simons deliver yours. I already ate.”

  “Then why did you come in here and bother me?”

  The crease deepened as he raised his brows. “Bother? You? That would be the day.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” she replied.

  He sighed. His chest rose and fell with it. “You happen to be in possession of my lone wardrobe, lady. No one else wears my size. I worked in these clothes. I sweated in them. I got sprayed with saltwater in them. I slept in them. I need a change.”

  “You need some manners,” she replied stiffly.

  “That, too,” he agreed, and reached to pull his closet open.

  Linna watched as he looked over the shirts before selecting one. It shouldn’t have taken the amount of time that it did. He only had two left hanging.

  “So...did you? Sleep well, that is?” he asked the shirts. She watched as he selected one and donned it with a rough gesture.

  “No,” she replied. “I didn’t sleep well. I didn’t sleep at all.”

  He had his shirt wide open and hanging from his shoulders and not another stitch on. He stopped the motion of dressing at her words and stared at her. Linna met his look without one bit of her unsteady pulse showing and wondered where her sanity had just gone to. You didn’t admit weakness to one such as him!

  “Does that mean something?”

  “What?” she asked.

  “That little bit of sharing. You saying something?”

  “No,” she answered.

  “Should I infer something then?”

  “Yes,” she answered and could have bitten her own tongue off for admitting it.

  “What?”

  She gave him her most blank look. That I don’t want to feel like this! That I don’t want to ache with longing to touch everywhere on your body and I don’t want to desire your touch on me. I don’t want to care who you are or what you did! I don’t want to feel this...agony, this torment, this desire. It’s wicked, and debasing, and against everything I hold most sacred. And I don’t want to love you! Especially that!

  “Well?” he asked, licking his lips.

  “Larket! Crow’s nest duties!”

  “Damn! And blast! And damn again!”

  Cord knew the spell was broken as well as she did. His curses filled the air with it as he fumbled with pants and buttons and boot lacings. Linna didn’t watch. She’d fallen back onto the bed the moment the knock came, held to both sides of her aching head, and thanked the interruption for preventing any of her thoughts from leaving her lips.

  “This isn’t settled,” Cord muttered, as he finished tying the scarf-thing. It made long strands of hair curl out at his neck and wasn’t doing a thing to divert attention from him. Quite the opposite. In fact it narrowed his face and gave him a rakish appearance. “It’s far from settled. Keep that in mind when you pace about in my cabin. I’ll return, and we’ll settle it.”

  “Just leave me alone, Cord. Please?”

  “Leave you alone? Ask me for something you want.”

  “I do want it.”

  “Kiss me and tell me that. Make me believe it.”

  “K-kiss...you?” she
stammered.

  “Afraid?”

  He was leaning over her lower limbs and pursing his lips so sweetly, Linna had to close her eyes on the sight. When she opened them, he hadn’t moved. Not a hair. He must be mistaken about how he felt when she rejected him, too. Why else would he lay himself bare to it again? Leaning toward her, with his eyes closed and actually expecting her to mold her lips to his?

  She moved onto her hands and knees and felt the bed creak. She knew he heard it as well, for a smile hovered on those lips as he waited. She would dearly enjoy sitting back, waiting for him to open his eyes, so she could laugh right in his face. That would serve him right. It would slap him with everything he might be thinking.

  Linna wasn’t going to actually kiss him.

  She didn’t dare.

  She was going to tease and torment him – and then reject him. That’s what she intended to do. She bent forward, coming as close as she dared without actually touching the skin of his lips, and wondered why she tortured herself with the lack. She reached out with her tongue and slid it along his upper lip, tasting salt, feeling the rough rub of skin where whiskers should be, and making her arms shudder in almost the same motion his body started exhibiting.

  Then she sat back.

  Her breasts had never felt so swollen and raw, her nipples straining impatiently against the silk; her scalp tingled with the rivulet of shivers, while her legs twitched spasmodically. She watched a slow smile cross his face, before he reached out the tip of his tongue and licked at the moisture she’d just put on his lips. Then he opened his eyes, taking his time as if he were bracing himself for what he’d find.

  Gray-green surrounded the brown at the center, although she could swear it was nearer black. Linna absorbed the shock wave as it crashed into the pit of her stomach and sucked in one breath after another before remembering to let them back out. She’d never seen such raw need in her life. She wondered if that’s what was on her face, too.

  “It’s a good thing I’m needed topside,” he said, as if the words were torn from him. “Or I’m not so certain I’d be keeping to our bargain.”

  “I—.”

  “Don’t say a word. Not one.”

  “But—.”

  “And don’t do that again unless you’re ready for the consequences. Damn good and ready.” He didn’t wait for her gasp before spinning to shove the door open. He was gone before it slammed back into position.

  Linna threw herself onto the coverlet, hugged the towel to her eyes, and only thought about weeping. Her body wasn’t interested in crying. It was alive, over-heated, and bothersome in the extreme. She shoved herself from the bed, pulled the silk over her head, and used the towel’s dampness to soothe her skin. Her nerve endings were raw with want. Her back was tight with it. The juncture of her thighs was on fire, and nothing was working. Damn him! Double damn him! She tossed back her head, feeling the ends of her freshly-washed hair tickling her own backside, and even that felt carnal and wanton and lushly provocative. She knew what she needed, and she knew who she needed. What she didn’t know was what to do about it.

  Linna bent over, wrapped her arms about her own body and howled with how inadequate it all was.

  And that was the view Simons got when he pulled the door open to hand her a breakfast tray.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Do you know what I want?” Gray-green eyes blended into blackness.

  “Yes,” she whispered, panting with the stupid use of breath, when she needed all of it to continue living.

  “And you’re going to give it to me.” He wasn’t actually asking it.

  Say no, Linna! “Yes,” she whispered again.

  “That’s good. That’s very good.”

  The tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips. Linna started shivering the moment she saw it. The man had too many weapons at his disposal for her to fight.

  “Do you want to know why?” he asked.

  “Yes.” The word came in a panted breath, just as the others had been. Linna watched his eyebrows raise, bringing the crease across his forehead into existence. She had to command her hand not to reach for the ever-present lock of sable-dark hair that fell over it.

  “Because I would have taken it otherwise.”

  She gasped, burning her lungs and making the edge of the banquet-sized table shift and sway, until it turned into the edge of the cot she lay on.

  Linna lifted her head from the pallet in the little cabin with a mixture of surprise and dismay. Oh no. No. Now she was dreaming of him...of that?

  The sun was past its zenith and Linna stretched. She hadn’t meant to sleep quite this long, but it had felt good. She felt rested. She also felt stiff and sore, and she was thirsty. She wondered if she had water leftover since Simons probably wouldn’t be seeing to her needs. Not after the display he’d seen this morning. That had to be what was causing her distress and embarrassment. It certainly couldn’t be the dream.

  Stop lying to yourself, Linna.

  Even now, with the door held by the leather thong and dressed in a prim and proper traveling ensemble of a brown tweed skirt, a brown vest of the same material, and a large-sleeved blouse that buttoned clear from her lower abdomen to the base of her chin, she still felt every inch of her aroused state against every single thread.

  She groaned and slid to the edge of the bunk, in order to reach the floor. She knew it was arousal. She was getting very good at recognizing the signs. She didn’t need to have Simons point it out.

  She looked toward the door, scrunched her face, and knew she was blushing again. Damn the little man anyway. He was a horrible little toad! And he’d seen the emotion she’d been hiding. He hadn’t liked it one bit. Not one.

  “Perhaps you should learn what to do with your man when you have him, Mistress Larket,” he’d told her, in a tight, little voice that matched the indignation evident in his every pore.

  “Put the tray down and go.” She’d covered herself as quickly as possible, using the bedding as a wrap.

  He’d ignored her request. “You wouldn’t be standing, begging for it, if you’d given it to him. Stupid girl.”

  She’d tossed her head and faced him. “Maybe that’s the way he likes to leave me, Simons,” she’d pouted prettily at him and watched him gulp. “It makes the reunion that much more...savage. That’s a good word, n’es pas?”

  The look of impotent fury on his face had been worth it, and she’d rid herself of him at the same time. It had actually been an auspicious moment, even if it was still enough to make her cower in embarrassment.

  Well, her interaction with Simons had been hours ago, the tweed was too hot a fabric for sitting all day in an airless cabin, and she hadn’t had anything to eat since then. All because Cord was loose somewhere on the ship, and she wasn’t strong enough for another encounter. She hadn’t known loving somebody was so hard to hide!

  Linna looked at the door, then stuck her tongue out at it and watched as it tried to open. Before she could reach it and get the hemp thong off, it burst. Linna pulled her tongue back in at the sight of her husband. He was carrying a delicious-smelling pot in one hand and a bucket in the other. Linna stepped back until the cot edge stopped her.

  “That was stupid,” Cord muttered, setting down his pail. “Now we have no privacy.”

  “We won’t need it much longer. I’m ready to depart, as you can see.”

  “We’re not docked yet. We still have to get through the shoals. It’s tricky, especially at low tide. We have to wait. Here, take your sup.”

  She took the pot from him, tried to find a place for it, and then just held it.

  “You should put your bed up before I get here. I might get ideas.”

  He angled himself past her and lifted the cot-thing back into its slot. Linna kept her back against the opposite wall and watched him.

  “I don’t know about what,” she answered evenly.

  He turned his head and raked a glance from her head to her toes and back aga
in. Despite her every effort, Linna felt the reaction as if he’d actually touched her. The pot trembled, showing all of it, too.

  “I would say it’s the same thing you dressed to avoid.”

  Linna lifted her arms, holding the pot between them. Cord looked down at it before returning to her face. “Chicken and dumplings. Simons is a good cook. Damn good. Don’t throw it. Here.”

  He bent sideways and pulled her trunk out to give her a perch. Linna sat before her legs gave out.

  “So...when are we leaving?”

  “In the morning. Maybe later. Why? You in a hurry?”

  “I—.” I can’t spend another night in this little cubicle with you!

  He waited for her to finish and when she didn’t, he went to the door to re-tie the strap together over the peg. Linna dropped her eyes to her sup. There was a spoon hooked into the pot lid. She used it to open the steaming repast.

  “Is that a no or a yes?” he asked the door.

  “There isn’t much here,” she answered, looking at the remnants of two dumplings and perhaps a cup of stew.

  “As little as you eat? I’ll be surprised if you manage that.”

  “What about—? Just what do you think you’re doing?”

  Cord didn’t unbutton his shirt. He lifted his arms and yanked it over his head. Linna was amazed her voice came out at all. He stopped the motion of pulling it off his arms and looked her over.

  “Sponge bath. You don’t have to watch. I look forward to a real one, don’t you?”

  “You aren’t going...to bathe...in here? Are you?” Her voice stumbled. If she’d made the mistake of tasting her sup, she’d have choked on it.

  She deserved the look of contempt he threw her. She knew it as well as he did. “I’ve bathed here before. You should know. You handled it. And I didn’t hear any weren’t complaining.”

  “You...were ill then.”

  “Right. Eat your sup, Linna.”

  “You expect me to eat while you—you—.”

  “While I bathe? Yeah. Exactly that. Does everything have to be a fight with you?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “Why? There’s much more pleasant ways to spend time. Like eating. I already told you it was good. Try tasting it. You’ll see. You don’t have to fight.”