Gregory, Lisa (25 page)

"That
I can well believe," he snapped, "for you are a veritable snow queen
now. God, woman, do you think I would bother with you if there were a real
woman around? I had as soon make love to an iceberg! But since you are the only
female available, I must make do with you."

"I
despise you. Remember every time you touch me that I loathe you, that your
touch makes my flesh creep," she rasped at him. "In my mind I will be
defying you, resisting you, hating you. Though I obey your every order, we will
both know it is only because your brute strength is greater than mine."

He
smashed his hand down on the table. "You are a selfish, spoiled little
bitch. All your life everyone has jumped at your command, from your spineless
father down to the lowest servant. You are imbued with your own
superiority—cold, haughty, and self-righteous. No doubt you would have led your
poor Yankee lieutenant a merry dance. But you'll not do the same with me. For I
intend to master you, dear girl. I am going to gentle you to my hand. I shall
treat you as you should have been treated long ago. Do you understand me!"

"Pig!"

He
stepped back, panting with anger. He stood for a moment, regaining cold, hard
control. Then he sat down in a chair and lounged back against his desk, as
Katherine continued to stand, glaring at him. His voice was calm when he spoke.
"Undress."

"What?"

"You
heard me."

"I
won't."

"I
thought you vowed to obey my every command."

She
stared at him unmoving. "You can't be serious."

"I
am perfectly serious and growing impatient. Must I remind you that you are
completely in my power, that if you disobey me, I am capable of taking my whip
to you?"

Her
face paled and he smiled evilly. "Yes, my dear, don't forget that I am a
wicked slaveowner and well versed in such things. Or perhaps you would like for
me to call in a few of my men to help you undress."

With
trembling fingers, she began to unbutton her dress, but she said through stiff
lips, "You son of a bitch."

"What
do my mother's morals have to do with anything?"

"Bastard."
She slipped out of her dress, then paused,

"Continue.
Would you like for me to teach you new curse words, my dear? I may grow weary
of having the same ones hurled at me all the time." His voice was soft and
dangerous.

Katherine
stepped out of her shoes, then removed her hoop and her petticoats one by one,
until she stood clad only in her chemise. She stopped and glanced at him
uncertainly, but he said nothing, just kept his obsidian gaze on her. She
swallowed hard, trying to force back the acrid fear that rose in her throat.
Never had he seemed so hard, so cold, so cruel. Summoning up her courage, she
tugged off her pantalets and then stockings, under cover of the thin petticoat.
Then in one swift movement, she tore off her chemise and stood before him.
Desperately she tried to conceal herself with her hands, blushing furiously,
and averted her head to avoid meeting his eyes.

"Take
your hands away," his voice cracked out. "Why be so ashamed of your
body? I see no deformity."

She
forced herself to drop her hands to her sides and with a great effort of will
raised her head to stare back at him defiantly. He inspected her from head to
toe, his insolent eyes taking in every detail. He lit a cigar to hide the
trembling of his hands. Desire flooded through him but he forced his voice to
be casual.

"Now
come here."

Seething,
she obeyed him. When she stood by his chair, he tilted his face up to look at
her and said, "Now, undress me."

She
looked as though someone had thrown freezing water in her face. "You
can't—I, I don't know how!"

"Discover."

Katherine
looked at him helplessly, gulped, then knelt and removed his boots. She stood
up again, but he did not speak or move to help her. Gingerly she leaned down
and unbuttoned his shirt. He felt dizzy with the scent of her and the closeness
of her bare breasts, swaying with her movements. Carefully she slid his shirt
off one shoulder and arm and then the other, then flung it furiously on the
table.

He
watched her without moving and finally she said, "You will have to stand
up."

"I
beg your pardon?"

"Dammit,
I'll not beg you. If you want those trousers off, you'll have to stand."

Laughing,
he rose. Tentatively she reached out, then snatched her hands back, then forced
them back to his waistband. Accidentally she brushed his stomach and the lean
stomach muscles jumped involuntarily. Her hand recoiled as if bitten by a
snake, but he grabbed her hand and replaced it. His stomach was warm, the skin
strangely soft to her touch, fuzzy with hair.

"Go
ahead," he said huskily.

Her
hands shook violently as she unbuttoned his trousers, very conscious of the
male bulge beneath her fingers and what it meant. She pulled them to the floor
and off his feet, then stood, eyes downcast, hands clasped tightly behind her
back.

"You
haven't finished."

"I
can't."

"You
will."

Desperately
she glanced at the drawstring of his underwear, then reached out and quickly
untied it. But his close-fitting long knit underwear did not fall to his
ankles, and she had to pull them down, which forced her to look at his naked
legs and hips close up, even touch them. Nor could she avoid the sight of his
swollen manhood.

"Get
into bed," he told her and she scurried toward it as if to a refuge.

He
followed and crawled in beside her. Almost carelessly he began to stroke her
body, running his hands all over her breasts and stomach and legs. Turning her
over onto her stomach, he caressed her back and lingered over her buttocks,
then stroked the backs of her legs, even reaching down to run a finger up the
soles of her feet. Again he returned to her buttocks, squeezing, soothing,
brushing with his fingertips. As he continued to caress her with his hands, she
felt his lips begin to roam her back. His body slid lower along her, and she
jumped with shock when he nipped gently at her buttocks.

"What
are you doing to me?"

He
laughed a low, soft laugh. "Oh, wicked things, my love; things quite
frowned upon in Boston." He kissed her hips, her thighs.

"Please—no!"

"I
plan to kiss you many places, my love," he said thickly. "Look, I
even kiss your dainty feet."

"Matt—Captain
Hampton!"

"Go
ahead. Say my name. Say Matthew." He hovered over her, his face buried in
her hair. "I want to hear you say it," he breathed into her ear.
"Say it softly, caressingly, bitterly, loudly, reprovingly. I don't care.
I just want to hear it in your mouth. I want your teeth and tongue and lips to
form it. 'Matthew.' 'Matt.'" He shoved her hair aside to nibble at her ear
and his body moved against hers. "To please me. Say it just once."

"Captain
Hampton," she flared.

"Damn
you, Katherine. See how I will say your name. Katherine. Kate. Kathy." His
lips roamed her cheek, twisting her around to kiss her deeply. "Katherine.
I won't stop until you answer me. Katherine. Lovely, infuriating. Beautiful. My
Kathy." He let her return to her back, all the while kissing her,
murmuring her name.

She
steeled herself against his hands and mouth and words. Once she had felt sorry
for herself that she had never heard her name spoken ardently; now she felt
close to melting at the sound. How could he be so changeable, so humiliating,
so enflaming? It was torture to hold herself still, to keep from saying his
name. As he entered her, she realized with horror that even though he purposefully
humiliated her, she delighted in his possession of her. She wanted to move with
him, against him, anything but remain cold, immobile, and silent. As soon as he
withdrew, she rolled away from him to huddle against the wall.

"Get
back here," he said roughly, pulling her into his arms. "I'm not
through with you." Tenderly, softly he kissed her hair and face and mouth,
then settled his head on her breast and immediately fell asleep.

Cautiously
she touched his face, lightly running her fingers along his cheekbone and jaw.
"Matthew," she whispered into the dark silence.

A
loud knocking at the door awakened them both. "Captain! Yank ship
south-southwest. Looks like Navy."

Hampton
was immediately alert. He left the bed and quickly threw on his clothes.
Katherine sat up sleepily, fighting the fog in her mind.

"What's
going on?" she asked, yawning.

"It
may be that your saviors have arrived," he said shortly, pulling on his
boots.

"The
Navy?"

"Perhaps."

"But
what will you do?"

"Hope
they have not crossed the path of the ship I let go yesterday. If they haven't,
we may be able to bluff our way through as the
Susan Harper.
But if they
have encountered the crew of the
Susan Harper
on that merchant ship,
they'll know we aren't and we'll have to run or fight. If it's a sailing ship,
we can probably outrun them. If steam, we probably cannot. And they are bound
to be better armed than we. Our only hope in a battle is that their captain is
incompetent." He paused and looked at her shrewdly. "Do you know much
about the Navy? Names of ships, their captains, that sort of thing?"

She
shrugged. "A fair amount about the ones we built. And of course Teddy told
me about the Navy constantly."

"Good.
Then get dressed and come up on deck. Perhaps you can identify our
friend."

"What
makes you think I would tell you anything if I recognize it?"

"Because
you know I'd break every bone in your body if you deceived me," he said
pleasantly and turned toward the door.

She
picked up the closest thing at hand, which happened to be a pillow, and threw
it after him. It bounced harmlessly off the door as it swung to behind him. She
slipped out of bed and dressed hurriedly, her curiosity about the ship
overcoming her desire to defy his commands.

When
she came on deck, she found Hampton gazing through his telescope at what was
little more than a speck on the horizon. He turned to her and smiled.

"It
seems that we cannot use your expertise yet."

"How
could they tell it was a military ship?" she asked.

He
shrugged. "I think Peljo smells them out. I certainly can't see her well
enough. But Peljo's seldom wrong, so I must presume it is Navy. I have ordered
full sail; perhaps we'll outdistance her before she suspects us. Or keep in
front of her until nightfall when maybe we could lose her."

Katherine
stayed on deck for a while, but soon hunger lured her down to the cabin to eat.
Afterward she read for a while, though her thoughts constantly intruded. She
ran over and over how he had humiliated her, degraded her for the past two
nights. And just because she had dared to stand up to him. No doubt he expected
her to throw herself at his feet, as countless other women probably had. Piqued
because she did not, he had decided to abuse her. He used her as if she were a
thing, an inanimate object, almost as if she didn't exist. She pressed her fist
against her trembling lips to hold back her tears. Wasn't it enough that he
impose himself on her physically? Why did he have to hurt her mentally and
emotionally, too?

Her
gloomy thoughts were interrupted by a polite rapping at the door. Katherine
swallowed her tears and went to answer it. Dr. Rackingham stood outside; he had
come to begin the chess games they had promised each other. He was a good
player and, though she played rather distractedly at first, she soon settled
down to her usual form, and they passed the morning quite enjoyably. She asked
him to join her for lunch and he accepted. The meal was pleasant and they found
themselves talking and laughing companionably. When Hampton arrived to eat his
lunch, he found them at the end of their meal, chuckling over some story of the
doctor's. The captain bowed politely.

"Excuse
me, my dear. I did not know you were entertaining."

"Dr.
Rackingham kindly stopped by to relieve my boredom," she said airily.
"He and I have been playing chess all morning."

"Ah,
then you have spent a more pleasant morning than I."

"Do
you play, Captain Hampton?" Rackingham inquired.

"Sometimes."

"Perhaps
we could have a game ourselves some evening."

"I
would enjoy that, Doctor."

"Though
Miss Devereaux plays so well, you will probably find me a poor
substitute."

"Yes,
Miss Devereaux is indeed a worthy opponent," he said, shooting her a
mischievous glance.

Mason
entered with Hampton's food, and the doctor excused himself to return to his
quarters for his daily nap.

After
he left, Hampton said, "You seem to have made a new conquest. Be careful
or you'll make me jealous."