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Authors: Sylvie F. Sommerfield

Tags: #Scan; HR; Antebellum South; Riverboat; Revenge

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BOOK: Catalina's Caress
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Marc and China were enjoying a quiet evening meal in her cabin. The strange relationship between them was only spoken of in whispers and never where either of them could hear. Yet they were well aware of the gossip, and it amused them to keep explanations to themselves.

Marc was relaxed and comfortable with China; that was so with no other human being. He trusted her completely, and she was the only person who knew the events that had led him to the path he now walked. She was quiet but frank when she spoke, very intelligent, and extremely competent at managing countless details. As Marc had said, China was a mirror, but a mirror that did not condemn or reveal flaws. She merely let Marc examine himself without deception.

He loved her in a way no other woman, and very few men, would understand. Their love had never been physical, yet neither questioned it As for China her love for Marc was akin to worship. Indeed, she would have gladly sacrificed her life for him had the need ever arisen.

Yet in their talks they indulged in a freedom rare between a man and a woman. China was the only one who could ask questions—and get answers.

"She is very beautiful, this Carrington woman?"

"Yes, she is." Marc scowled. "Which means little or nothing. She's still a Carrington."

"Is that enough to condemn her?"

"The first thing she tried to do was buy me off. Right or wrong, those people think their money and position make then invincible. Don't you think it's time they learned that's not so?"

"You enjoyed making her plead?"

"That I did." He chuckled. "Too bad the game was over so quickly. I find myself wishing she would accept my bargain. Taming her first might prove rewarding."

"You might not laugh should you fall into your own trap. She might tame you instead."

"No chance of that, China. I have too long a memory. Her very name—Carrington—gives me nightmares. I would never trust her, and caring for someone like her would be a disaster. I don't intend to pay the price my father paid for trusting a Carrington. She's a beautiful temptress, but her heart would be solid stone like those of the rest of her family."

"Marc."

"What?"

"I know your hatred, but think of this one thing. Why would a woman as wicked as you paint her to be care so much for her brother that she would come to you and beg? That is not the thing a hard-hearted person would do. Maybe she does not have the soul of her father ... maybe she loves this young brother."

Marc was annoyed when she expressed a thought that had already occurred to him in an unwelcome moment of weakness.

He rose. "I'm going out for some air and a smoke." He strode to the door, and when he opened it he turned to look at China again. "My plans aren't changing. Don't be deceived by your own gentle heart. She's wearing a beautiful mask, but scratch it and you'll still find a Carrington. I intend to bring them all down. If getting her into my bed will be the faster way, then that's what I'lll do. Don't feel sorry for her, she would probably spit on you."

He left quietly, and China watched the door for several seconds. The look in her eyes was remarkably close to pity.

Chapter 4

M
arc paced the deck of the boat on which he still felt himself to be an intruder. The night was young, and the moon sat low on the horizon sending a path of light across the water.

Marc was deep in thought when a carriage stopped near the gangplank. He heard soft feminine laughter, and when the door opened, four women exited in a profusion of petticoats, slim legs, and bright smiles.

He smiled, knowing both he and the boat were facing a unique invasion. Slowly he walked to the head of the gangplank and watched the women begin to board.

The first to step on deck was Paulette Bordeau. She was a statuesque blond with wide blue eyes and a figure that could make any man forget his goal in life. She spoke with a thick French accent... until she was angry. Then she slipped into gutter language that would have shocked a deckhand.

"Paulette.'' Marc chuckled. "As beautiful as ever."

"Ah, Marc
mon cher
," Paulette laughed seductively as she kissed him with enthusiasm. "It is so good to see you again."

The woman directly behind Paulette was a flame-haired green-eyed beauty with a rich creamlike complexion. Charlene Gilbert lifted lush full lips to kiss Marc.

"Charlene my pet," Marc said, as he put both hands on her waist to pry her slim body from his. "I'm glad you came."

"For you, Marc," Charlene replied huskily, "I would go just about anywhere ... anytime."

The third boarder to step on deck was a creature of delicate beauty. She seemed frozen somewhere between girlhood and womanhood. She was small boned and slender, with eyes of cloud gray and hair that was golden brown. Her innocent air reminded Marc of a lost child, though he knew the dreadful past that had created her.

"Hello, Shawna," he said gently.

"Hello, Marc ... is China here?" Her voice was a soft whisper, as gentle as she was.

"She's here, Shawna." He faced the three, but was more aware of the fourth. "Why don't the three of you go to her stateroom? It's the last door at the end of the passage."

With a flurry they were gone, and he turned to look at the fourth woman who had just stepped on the deck. She was regarding him silently.

"Nina," Marc said softly.

"It's been a long time, Marc."

Her voice was deep and throaty, and probably the most sensual one he had ever heard. Despite her beauty and the dignity of her bearing, her sexuality was what you sensed the moment you laid eyes on her. It was a force that had a life of its own.

To women like her every man gravitates when he chooses to find the ultimate in love. In such a woman he seeks forbidden pleasures and the fulfillment of secret dreams. He sees her learning and teaching things that no "lady" should ever know.

"It's been too damned long."

"Shall I go on to see China?" She smiled, knowing the answer, making it needless for him to say the words.

He laughed softly as he extended his hand to her, and when she slid hers into it, he drew her into his arms.

She was tall and luxuriously curved, and a low murmur of satisfaction escaped from Marc as she fit the length of her body to his. Thick lashes lowered over her dark brown eyes as his mouth blended with her parted lips.

"You can talk to China tomorrow,'' he said huskily. "I have other plans for tonight."

"I'm sure"—she laughed—"that your plans and mine are a great deal alike."

"It would certainly be a big disappointment to me if they weren't."

He slid an arm about her waist and they walked to his stateroom. Once inside it, words were unnecessary. Both knew what they wanted. He watched in silent admiration as she slowly undressed revealing lush charms he remembered well. Naked and unashamed she walked to him and began to help him remove his clothes. In moments, they were on his bunk, engrossed in sensual exchanges.

Their lovemaking had always been a source of deep pleasure to him. So, as he lay exhausted beside her, he couldn't understand the strange lack of completion he felt, as if something intangible were missing. He ignored itTThere had been too much tension in his life. Nina would help him ease it while he carried out the balance of his plans ... Damn, why did thinking of his plans conjure up a vision of a golden-eyed woman who had no place in his thoughts now?

Nina stretched luxuriously. Marc was always satisfying. She had enjoyed no other man as she enjoyed him. That his lean hard body could stir her to such rapturous pleasure often surprised her.

She rose and walked to Marc's wash stand, took his brush from it. Slowly she began to work through the tangles in her hair before she again coiled it into glossy ebony ropes wound at the nape of her neck.

Marc watched with a great deal of pleasure, thinking that Nina had the most remarkable body he had ever seen. Their eyes met in the mirror, and both smiled.

"It's good to have you back, Nina. I really have missed you."

"Then why did you leave Natchez so suddenly? Only a note—'Sorry, Nina. I'll be in touch.'"

"It was ... something I had no control over."

"Why"—she turned to look at him—"do I let you walk in and out of my life whenever you choose? You just come and go like a shadow."

He rose from the bed and went to her, bending to take hold of her arms and draw her up into his. They kissed slowly and very satisfactorily.

"Because love," he whispered, "we're good together, and"—he kissed her again—"you are a delicious creature who's the damnedest hellion in bed I've ever had. And"—he laughed—"you're as wild and untamable as I am. We both cherish our freedom, Nina; that's what keeps us together. No chains, no ties, and no promises."

"No promises." She wanted to say much more, to tell him that she had plans, that she intended to make their relationship much more permanent this time. But first she had to find some way to hold him ... for good.

Marc walked away from her and began to dress, while Nina continued her toilette.

They were both half-dressed when the door swung open. Nina's eyes sparked in quick anger when she saw the woman framed in the doorway. Marc was so taken by surprise that he stood completely still, the shirt he was about to put on held in his hands.

"Well, Marc," Nina said coldly, "it appears you have company."

Marc's unbelieving gaze met Catalina's disdainful eyes. Of all the people in the world Catalina Carrington was the last person he had expected to see.


Catalina waited out the hours, her nerves stretched to the breaking point. The clock ticked away the minutes so slowly that she could hardly stand it.

She looked at the small black satchel that contained the money. Would he accept it from her when he had refused it from Travis? It was a slim chance, but it was the only one they had. If he refused there was very little more that could be done and Seth would be left to face. ..

She didn't want to think of it for deep inside she was afraid, afraid that her family would disintegrate before her eyes and that she would lose Seth. Hadn't she always been there for him? Well, she would be there now. She was certain Seth would do something foolish should Marc Copeland carry out his threat.

Catalina refused to give any thought to Travis. He had supplied the money, but he had no claim on her. Yet he brought Marc Copeland to her mind.

"What a despicable, hateful man he is," she muttered aloud. "But money seems to be important to him, and I suppose he enjoys seeing me beg. Whatever it takes to satisfy his demands, I'll just have to do."

She moved through the quiet dark house as she heard the clock chime midnight, making her way to the back door. From there she must cross the wide inner courtyard, exit through another wrought-iron gate, and follow the cobbled drive to the carriage house. She expected to find the small closed carriage already harnessed and prepared for her. She had used the last of her small coins to bribe the stable boy.

Upon opening the stable door she sighed with relief to find the equipage ready. An impatient stable boy was holding the bridle of the horse, and doing his best to keep it quiet.

She gave him the coins, and he opened the wide door so she could drive away, watching after the receding carriage.

"If Miz Charlotte finds out about this we's both gonna get skinned. I sure hope you don't run across no trouble, and get back before mornin' or we's gonna be in for it. Miz Charlotte don't take to bein' snookered ... no sir, she don't take to it at all."

He continued to shake his head as he walked to a comfortable pile of hay on which a blanket was spread.

"She asked me to wait and open the doors for her, but she didn't say nothn' bout bein' comfortable while I waited."

He lay down on the blanket, and after a while its warmth took over and he drifted off to sleep.


Catalina drove through the dark deserted streets without mishap. When she reached the
Southern Belle
, she saw no sign of life aboard. She left the carriage and walked as quietly as possible to the gangplank, not expecting any problem with the crew abed. Nonetheless, she mounted the gangplank slowly.

Having been aboard the
Belle
more than once Catalina easily found her way to the captain's quarters. Seeing light beneath the door, she reasoned he must still be awake. She wanted to take advantage of the element of surprise, so she turned the knob and swung the door open. The scene that greeted her was the last one she had expected.


This was one of the few times when Marc had been caught totally off guard. He was stunned to find Catalina Carrington in his doorway, and piqued by the contemptuous amusement in her eyes.

He had a strong desire to throttle her—or kiss her— until she begged for release. What he did was smile coolly and continue dressing as if her presence meant little or nothing to him. It was Nina who bridled.

"Who is she?" she demanded, causing Marc's brows to furrow in annoyance.

"She's none of your business, Nina. Just someone I have a little ... business with. We have to talk alone. Why don't you go down to China's stateroom and make sure the girls are settled?"

Nina's face was a study in ill-suppressed rage. She glared at Catalina as she gathered up the balance of her things. Then she went to Marc and kissed him slowly and leisurely. Finally, a half-smile on her lips, she walked to the door.

"Do hurry with your ... business, -Marc. It's been a long time, and we have a lot to talk about." Her throaty sensual voice made her meaning quite clear.

Catalina smiled through gritted teeth, and despite his amused grin, Marc could have thrown Nina overboard.

After Nina closed the door behind her, a heavy silence descended on the cabin. Marc chose not to try to break it. This was her game now and he wasn't going to help her one bit. He poured a glass of brandy and sipped from it while he watched her.

Catalina had to choose quickly just what kind of approach she was going to use. He is shrewd, she thought, and in that white shirt and dark pants he could be a pirate. She was well aware of the heady masculine aura about him. He was devastatingly sensual, and she was more than irritated by the fact that her senses responded despite her will. She had never been alone with a man she considered as dangerous as this one.

"Mr. Copeland..."

"Marc." He grinned. "Sounds friendlier.''

"Mr. Copeland," she insisted coldly. "I've come to talk to you about the
Southern Belle
."

Marc set his glass down and walked slowly toward her. Catalina held her ground, gazing at him defiantly. She would have given anything to be able to turn and run, but there was too much at stake. Valiantly, she suppressed the fear he aroused in her. She wasn't sure just what she was afraid of, and that angered her also. She could feel her cheeks grow warm under the intensity of his gaze, but she refused to budge an inch.

Marc's eyes were filled with alert awareness, but he, too, refused to move. His smile was openly challenging as he stood close enough to touch her.

When Catalina reached up to lower the hood of the cloak she wore, Marc's smile remained unchanged, but he grew tense. Her hair, deliberately left unbound, fell in a cascade over her shoulders and down her back. He was tempted to bury his hands in it, to inhale more of the subtle intoxicating fragrance that touched his senses.

Her features were creamy perfection, and his hands itched to trace the fine texture of her skin. He imposed a firm grip on himself and remained silent.

"I... I must talk to you."

He moved slowly around behind her, but she obstinately refused to turn and see what he was about. Scarcely breathing, she felt his presence close to her.

His hands came over her shoulders, and she shivered as he loosened her cloak and drew it from them.

"Make yourself comfortable,'' he said softly. "Would you like some brandy?"

"No!" she said quickly. The last thing she needed was something that would affect her senses even more.

God, he thought, does she have any idea how breathtaking she is? Then reason struck him: of course she knew. She had planned this carefully, and if he wasn't careful he would find himself wound around her little finger like some hot-blooded boy.

"I take it," he said with aggravating coolness and a soft laugh that pricked her ears, "that you have come to agree to my bargain?"

She spun about and rage she could barely control leapt into her eyes. Only by exerting the severest discipline did she respond to his words verbally rather than physically.

"I have come to discuss our situation," she said frigidly. The damnable beast, she thought Does he honestly believe I will surrender to him? The battle is not over yet.

"Our situation?" he repeated. "I didn't know there was much about it to discuss. I have something you want... and you know the price of it. I thought you had done your thinking and had come to agree."

Offering neither a word of agreement nor of explanation, Catalina moved away from him. The combination of fear and anger were difficult to control. They put words on the tip of her tongue, words that would ruin all her plans if they were spoken.

She stood with her back to him because she could not trust herself.

"I have another offer for you. One you might find even more agreeable."

"More agreeable than three days—and nights—with you?" he said with disbelieving humor. "I hardly think so. It would take a great deal to make a more tempting offer."

Catalina had set the small satchel just inside the door when she had entered the cabin. Now she turned back to look at him.

"You said the
Belle
was worth two hundred thousand."

"She is ... in fact most likely more."

"There is two hundred thousand in that bag."

Marc cast a quick look at the bag, then another very irritated one at Catalina.

"And what simple-minded fool lets you wander the streets carrying something like that? You alone are enough to lure any scoundrel without that provocation."

"As a scroundrel I'm sure you would know." Catalina could not resist that one cut. Her reward was a wide white smile and a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

"My lady, you do tempt me."

She refused to listen to the double entendre. The pearls are there also. You should see at least sixty thousand on them. It is an immense profit."

"Very," he said gently. His eyes were warm as they roamed over her. "But then, much depends on what kind of profit I really want."

"You can hardly refuse such an offer! It's many times what Seth lost. Are you a fool?"

"Hardly. I am simply the owner of what you want As such I've the right to set my own price."

"But you are unreasonable!" she cried.

"My dear Cat," he said seriously, "no man who looked at you would consider me unreasonable. I would be considered a fool if I passed up the chance to share your... charms. I have a great deal of money already, and possess one of the best boats on the river. In fact"—he laughed softly—"I have just about everything I want."

"You could have the decency to listen to reason." Catalina was losing her control. "You have nothing to lose. With this money you could buy or build the best boat on the river."

"Undoubtedly."

"Then what is it you want?" she nearly shrieked.

His smile was an obvious answer, and anger nearly overcame her. She moved toward him, her hands curved into claws, fighting the urge to tear out his eyes and rip the arrogant smirk from his face.

"You are a damned pirate!" she cried.

He moved like lightning, snatching both wrists to force her arms behind her back. She was forced against a body whose reaction could be soon felt as his loins grew heated with her lush curves pressed so close.

His eyes burned into hers and for the first time she felt a trembling fear that left her knees weak and her body strangely devoid of the strength to resist. Her eyes grew wide as he lowered parted lips and moved them slowly, teasingly and warmly, across hers. His mouth was insistent as his tongue forced her lips apart and thrust to deeply taste the sweet caverns of her mouth.

Her world careened crazily and she fought just to regain her wayward senses. She was caught in the heat of a battle she did not have the experience to win. The kiss sent a heated stream of wild excitement through her, and the hard muscular length of him ignited her body despite her attempt to resist him.

Warmth seemed to seep into her every pore until her skin was aflame with it and she was lost in a searing scorching fire that twisted her will and melted it down into the slow simmer of passion.

With a surge born of desperation, she pushed herself from his arms. Both were raggedly gasping for breath.

"No!" she half-gasped half-moaned.

"I'll tell you now, Catalina Carrington. You take your money, you take your pearls. I will settle for nothing less than surrender. You still have five days. Make up your mind. If I sail five days from now without you, then consider the
Southern Belle
lost to you forever."

Catalina could think of nothing except getting away from the destructive emotion she had almost surrendered to. She almost ran to the door, snatched up the satchel and her cloak, and then she was gone, the door swinging closed behind her.

Marc looked at it, disbelief on his face. Despite all else he had wanted her as he had never wanted another woman, yet she was a mortal enemy he meant to destroy.

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