Captive Embraces (15 page)

Sirena pummeled the water with her fists. She had planned on humiliating Regan by her sweet rejection of him. Instead, he had never come to her. The sharp talons. of scorn raked her as though she were again reliving the night Regan had left her for the German whore, denying Sirena even the right of refusal.

Frau Holtz entered Sirena's room and waited on the settee for Sirena to complete her bath. All of this for that bull-headed Regan van der Rhys. And if she was any judge of men, he wouldn't even notice. All these lavish preparations would be for naught and the Mevrouw would be devastated.

“Have you decided which gown you wish to wear?”

“The emerald silk.”

Frau Holtz was laying the dress on the bed when Sirena changed her mind. “No, Frau Holtz, the scarlet I think.” The Frau pursed her mouth and replaced the green with the scarlet. “On second thought, it is such a depressing day, I think I'll wear the yellow. Regan likes yellow.”

Three hours, nine gowns, and four pairs of slippers later, Sirena was finally clothed. Frau Holtz heaved a sigh of relief as she watched the Mevrouw flick her cheeks with red Spanish paper and pat her hair. When she turned for inspection, the old housekeeper blanched slightly when she saw how low the neckline was cut.

“What do you think?” Sirena questioned.

“I knew you'd go back to the emerald silk. How else do you think you look? Beautiful,
ja,
beautiful. The Mynheer will be entranced.”

Sirena clenched and unclenched her fists while Frau Holtz went to call the footman. What if Regan turned her away? What if he refused to even speak with her, saying the marriage was ended and there was nothing to discuss? What if! What if! There was no use speculating on it. She had to see him, it was as simple as that. She had to see for herself what his reaction was when he saw she was here in England.

Frau Holtz watched Sirena climb into the carriage; Jacobus sat beside the driver. The Frau's throat felt constricted and she found swallowing difficult. What would become of Sirena if Regan rejected her? Would she become withdrawn and hollow-eyed. the way she was in Batavia or would she revert to her former ways and fill herself with vengeance and hate? Whatever, Frau Holtz knew her life would be miserable and difficult if Regan turned Sirena away.

Through the streets of London, Sirena rode. Several times throughout the trip she heard Jacobus and the footmen cursing and beating off the riff-raff and beggars who impeded their progress to Saint Dunstan's Hill. The drive, which normally took less than an hour, was dragging into nearly two, and Sirena became fretful that Regan would leave the office for the day or that business would call him away. Why oh why had it taken her so long to decide on her gown? Regan never cared for women's trappings. If he still loved her and was happy to see her, he wouldn't care if she were dressed in sack cloth and ashes.

The carriage stopped on the corner of Saint Dunstan's Hill and Thames Street. Her head high, her back ramrod straight, Sirena raised her hand to knock on the door of Regan's offices. All she had to do was turn the handle, the door would open, and she would see Regan. They would look at each other and ... and what? What would she say? How should she behave? She had to do the talking and the explaining before Regan could protest, or should she wait for Regan to explain why he had divorced her?

Quickly, before she could change her mind, Sirena entered. Regan was standing beside a large wall map, his arm raised to place a marker on what looked like a navigation route.

Just the sight of his broad back sent shivers up Sirena's spine. She saw him tilt his head as though he pondered a different route from the one he originally intended. He moved slightly and then rocked back on his heels. He hadn't changed. He still carried himself well, his hair was still tousled and pale. Her arms longed for him, her lips burned for his kiss. She felt herself being restored; just seeing him again did that for her. All this time, since they had been apart, she had only been half a person. Now, with Regan so close, she could be whole again. If only she could hear him say it had all been a mistake, that he still loved her.

“Regan,” she said softly, from somewhere within her soul. His name was out and spoken before she even realized she'd uttered it. His name was a plea, a cry from the depths of her heart. She saw his muscular back tense. Slowly, as though caught in a void of time, Regan turned to face her. His eyes held an expression of incredulity. If he recognized the emotions behind the sound of his name, he gave no sign.

Sirena let herself drink in the sight of him. All her wants and needs were there to be read in her emerald eyes. She had to say something, make a move. She felt rooted to the floor, her tongue thick and swollen. “You ... you look well, Regan,” she finally managed. He hadn't changed at all. His square, chiseled features were the same. The sheaf of light golden hair was rakish and falling low over his brow. His agate eyes were aloof, just as she remembered them.

The muscles in his arms bunched as Regan clenched his fists at his side. His tone was cool and almost mocking as he looked at her. “And you look well, Sirena. I see you've managed to put your grieving behind you. And do my eyes deceive me, you've lost your rosary!”

“Regan ... I—”

“You just thought you would come to England and pay me a visit. Is that what you're about to say? You're too late, Sirena. Whatever you came for is not here.” His voice was harsh as he stared at her through narrowed eyes. “Look around you. What you see is what I am. A small, dingy office with room for only one person. I am a one-man company, but someday I'll make the van der Rhys import-export a rival to the Dutch East India. I agreed to the terms your old Spaniard demanded. Your solicitor receives your payment on the first day of each quarter as I agreed.”

“That's not why I'm here, Regan. I wanted to see you and talk to you. I want to know; I want to hear from your own lips the reason you divorced me. I want to hear you say you no longer love me. Say the words and I'll leave and never bother you again. Tell me why,” she cried brokenly, daring him to tell her, refusing to believe he would. “I loved you, Regan! I love you now! I gave you everything I had; my heart, my soul, my body. I gave you a son. I loved your son, Caleb, as though he were my own. I would have lain down my life for you. Why? Simply tell me why? I have nothing . . . you've taken everything. Even Caleb has turned away from me.” Great tears welled in the bottle-green eyes, but remained in check. “Why?” It was a cry birthed in her soul and erupting from her throat in an explosion of torment.

Regan stiffened as he noticed her outstretched hand. “How prettily you beg, Sirena. I remember another time such as this when you pleaded. You said you needed more time to come to grips with losing Mikel. I didn't believe you then and I don't believe you now. You've led a life of lies and deceit. Trickery was your mainstay. You've spilled blood and laid with Chaezar, then told me it was because you were drugged. I forgave all these things when you gave birth to our son and I loved you as much as you now profess to love me. When Mikel died, there was no sorrow greater than mine save your own. You wouldn't let me help you come to terms with this terrible happening in our life. I begged you then for days, for weeks, for months, and you scorned me. Again I asked you to come with me to this new land where we could make a fresh start for ourselves and you refused. You said you would never leave Mikel's grave. Because I forgave you everything and because I loved you, I believed you. You left me no other choice. If we must place blame, Sirena, let us be certain to place it where it belongs.”

“Yes, Regan, place the blame on me. I want it, I deserve it. I accept it.” The tears spilled over onto her smooth, ivory cheeks, running in rivulets, but her voice held firm and she controlled the quaking sobs she felt rising in her breast. “I accept the fact that I demanded more patience than you had to give. I was wrong when your body cried for mine and I turned away. I did deny you the comfort I should have given. I accept the truth that I would not be comforted. My shoulders are not as broad as yours, but lay the blame on them. I'm truly sorry for the way things worked out.
I'm
here now to make amends and I beg you to come back and begin again. Forgive me, Regan, it was my love and my anguish for our son that blinded me. Our son, Regan, not just mine or just yours. Can't you forgive me?” Regan said nothing, his expression unreadable.

An inner voice niggled at Sirena. Get down on your hands and knees and crawl to him if that's what he wants. You already know how much it hurts to be without him. Beg! Isn't that what you said you'd do? She waited, watched. The corners of Regan's mouth pulled down and the familiar mocking look was there again. She squared her shoulders slightly. She must have been mad! Women didn't have to grovel to men, at least not this woman to this man, she thought bitterly. “I see that you will not allow yourself to utter the words I want to hear. Why is that?” she asked in a dangerously low voice.

“There is no need for further discussion,” Regan replied coldly. “We are divorced. It is just as well you came here today, there's something I want to tell you. I've met someone. I plan to marry her if she'll have me. So you see, Sirena, it really is over between us.”

Please, dear God, help me, Sirena prayed silently. Don't let me falter now. With every ounce of strength within her, Sirena steadied herself. Her emerald-green eyes flashed a warning as she met his gaze. Her words, when they came, surprised her, for they were as completely controlled as Regan's.

“I want to be certain I understand.” She enunciated each word slowly and carefully. “We are divorced. By your decision. You plan to marry another. Everything you've taken from me by what you claim is your right, I will reclaim. You may have it now, but,” she said so faintly that Regan had to strain to hear, “I will get it back. You won't spend one cent of my money on another woman. What's mine is mine. Not yours, no longer ours, but mine! Believe what you will, do as you wish, but consider this the only warning I'll give you. Oh, over one other matter,” she added casually. “I looked over the agreement you made with Señor Arroya. I've made a slight change as the gentleman said was my prerogative. I no longer want a profit statement. I want more shares of this company. See to it that the matter is handled. In three days it will be the first of the month.”

“You want what?” Regan bellowed in outrage.

“I want my payment to buy extra shares in your company. I have great faith in you, Regan. I know that if you work twenty hours a day as I did in the nutmeg fields you will make me a rich woman. You should have learned to read Spanish. It is the bottom line on the contract you signed. Your bold, brave signature rests directly beneath it. Shares, Regan, and don't stint yourself.”

“The law—”

“I've had enough of you and your damnable laws. I'm sick and tired of you telling me what I can and cannot do. You have no choice in the matter. Think of it this way; it will increase your capital to improve the business. Play me fair, Regan, else I'll kill you. I can't make it plainer than that. And don't think I'll shed tears of remorse. There is no judge in this land who would convict me when they learn what you did to me. In case you're not aware of the fact, the Valdez fortune has come into my hands. If one has enough money, judges and lawmakers can be bought. Just as husbands can be.”

“If there is one thing which sickens me, Sirena, it's a jealous, spiteful woman,” Regan sneered.

Sirena's laugh tinkled off the walls. “A
rich,
jealous, spiteful woman!” Again, her green eyes flashed dangerously. “It would be advisable for you to work your fingers to the bone ... for me. And if I am in a generous mood, then I will allow you to continue ... ,” she laughed again, “... to continue to make a living for me.
Adios,
Regan.”

Regan watched her leave, her loose-limbed stride regal and confident. Damn woman! He sat down slowly on the hard chair and put his head in his hands. She had come to England, for him. Why had he been so bull-headed and so cold to her? Just the sight of her had almost driven the breath from his body. She hadn't changed since he had last seen her, damn her. If anything, she was even more beautiful. His heart thundered in his chest. It had been all he could do to keep from crushing her to him.

What had he done? God in his Heaven couldn't have convinced him she would ever have overcome her despair and come to him. He had believed her implicitly when she cried that she would never leave Mikel's grave. And here she was, threatening to ruin him as she had almost done once before. A wild, frightening feeling churned in his guts as he recalled the dangerous glint in her eyes. He had seen that look before and had seen the results of the emotions behind that look—when she had mowed down the scurrilous pirate, Dick Blackheart!

When she had enjoyed her escapades as the Sea Siren, Sirena had waited for the day when she could repay Blackheart for what he had done to her and her sister. That day had come, just as she had known it would. And now she was threatening to ruin something that he, Regan, was building. Not this time, Sirena, Regan thought as he gritted his teeth. He groped for some way to protect himself from her. Some way to get his hands on a healthy income that had nothing to do with the money he'd vested for Sirena. Something apart from the business.

Over and over he mulled things in his mind and his logic kept bringing him back to the same point. Camilla Langdon. Daughter of Sir Stephan Langdon, a wealthy landowner and financier.

Actually he had been seeing quite a bit of Camilla since coming to England. Not that he sought her out; she just seemed to be at every party or dinner he attended and had more or less attached herself to him. Recently, whenever asked to a social function, it was assumed he would bring Camilla with him.