Owned by the Ocean (20 page)

Brant laughed.
“That’s because you have maids to do it for you.”

Catherine
nodded her assent and continued to eat the meal. After finishing
she turned to face Brant, a frown marring her face.

“
What?”

“
Nothing. It’s just… strange.”

“
What is?”

“
This relationship we have. I’m normally a very reserved
person but you make me… not reserved.”

“
Is that a bad thing?”

“
I’m not entirely sure. I liked the old me. It worked
well.”

“
And how is this working for you?”

“
It’s different. Not good or bad, just different.”

“
I see.” Brant got up from the floor and walked over to her,
cupping her face in his hands. He studied her face and her wide,
innocent eyes and found himself enraptured. She was a famed siren
of the sea, there was no other explanation for the strange and
unexplainable allure she had. “I think you are a beautiful and
intelligent woman who needs to let that shine, Catherine. You hide
too much.”

Her eyes were
locked on his and he couldn’t look away. She said nothing and he
was at a loss for words. All he could think about was how beautiful
and perfect she was—and how untouchable. He was beneath her; he
knew that even though he had spent the last month and a half
telling her that class meant nothing. So why was he so afraid to do
what he was longing to do?

“
Forgive me, Catherine,” he whispered as he captured her lips
with his.

He felt her
sharp intake of breath as she gasped but his lips held hers firmly
and refused to let her retreat. She tried to lean away but the high
back of the chair only allowed her to go back so far and Brant had
her pinned firmly against it. She tried to push him away but she
didn’t have the strength and Brant would not relent. Then he felt
her responding. He felt her lips return the embrace and they moved
with his just as desperate and hungry as he was. Shocked he pulled
back but she grabbed him and wouldn’t let him leave.

Brant didn’t
need any more encouragement. He kissed her again, allowing the
electric shock to travel through his entire body. He could tell
that Catherine felt it too as she shivered.

When he pulled
back this time, she didn’t stop him. He searched her face for some
kind of indication of how she felt, but she just stared back with
big scared eyes and tears streaming down her face.

“
What is it?” he asked in concern, reaching out to brush away
the salty tears that made tracks down her face.

She brushed
him aside and stood up, walking towards the window and turning her
back on him.

“
Catherine, I’m sorry.”

“
Please leave.”

“
I shouldn’t have—”

“
Leave, Brant!”

Brant
swallowed back his shock and left the cabin. He should never have
forced her, never should have taken that next step in their
relationship. It wasn’t his place and it was deeply inappropriate.
She was his passenger; he had rescued her, and was charged with
caring for her safety. He shouldn’t be putting her in compromising
situations. It wasn’t as if anything would come of his actions
anyway. They were from two different worlds and those worlds were
not meant to mix. All he’d accomplished was complicating things for
the last couple of weeks they would have together.

He spent the
day working hard, doing small jobs that should have been done by a
crew member, anything to keep him busy and not thinking about
Catherine. He contemplated eating dinner with the crew instead of
with the officers but decided not to make it look too much like he
was avoiding her, so he made an appearance. He had nothing to worry
about anyway, Catherine was absent—taking dinner in her cabin.

Sleep was
nearly impossible. All he could think about was Catherine and
kissing her, kissing those wondrously soft lips and having her
respond. He was infatuated and it was interfering with life. It
would have been better if he had never taken that step at all. And
for the first time, he found himself wishing they had stayed
enemies.

* * *

Brant didn't
talk to Catherine again until they were nearing the end of their
voyage. She had emerged from her cabin the day after the incident,
her pride wrapped around her like armor but she needn’t have
worried. Brant wasn’t about to bother her. He didn't really know
why he was doing it but he felt as if, for his own safety, he had
to shut her out or he would be lost at sea. Although, he was
beginning to think it was already too late for that. He had entered
uncharted waters awhile ago and now there was no turning back.

He could tell
that Karl was concerned about how he was acting but Brant didn’t
really care. He had to get away from Catherine. He had to blindfold
his eyes, plug his ears, and tie himself to a mast before he threw
himself on the rocks to die at the sound of her call. But it wasn’t
enough. Every time she walked by Brant found himself wanting to be
near her. He found himself wanting to talk with her and walk with
her and sit with her and he desperately wanted to kiss her again.
It was torture. The only way to escape was to lock himself in a
cabin, but as captain that wasn’t an option. So he suffered through
every torturous moment and wished for the day they docked in London
to come quickly.

The worst was
dinner, now that Catherine was eating with them again. And even
though he carefully avoided conversation with her, he could only
deflect her for so long.

“
Brant, we have to talk.”

“
I’d rather not, Catherine. I made a mistake.”

“
I don’t want our friendship to suffer because of
it.”

“
It already has. I can’t stand to be around you. It takes all
my willpower to not kiss you, Catherine. Being around you is
torture. Don’t wish that upon me.”

Catherine
sighed and threw up her hands in frustration. “Kiss me then, Brant
Foxton! You think I don’t want it just as bad?”

Brant looked
at her and when she made no move to retreat or take back what she
had said he took her into his arms and kissed her passionately, all
ten days of pent up feelings being set free in one simple act.

He held
Catherine tightly against him and rested his chin on the top of her
head. “Why do you torture me so?” he whispered, kissing her
head.

“
I’m sorry, Brant. I’m a selfish woman.”

Brant let her
go and held her at arm’s length. “Catherine, I can’t stop this. I
can’t just wake up tomorrow and decide that I don’t care about you.
Are you sure about this?”

“
No, I’m not. But I’m willing to see what happens. Aren’t
you?”

Brant nodded,
kissing her gently in response. “Let me take you to your cabin.
It’s late.”

* * *

Brant wanted
to spend every minute of every remaining day with her. It was a
complete turnaround from the last week and a half. They were
getting closer to England, and Catherine’s home, with each passing
day and Brant knew his time with her was limited. He didn’t know
what he was going to do once they docked, but for now he wanted to
make the most of his time with her.

However, work
could not fall by the wayside, so he snuck in time with her when he
could and juggled between wanting the day to last forever so that
it would take longer to reach England and wanting evening to come
quickly so he could give Catherine his undivided attention. Every
evening they would sit in her cabin or in the crow’s nest, talking
and discussing things much like they had before but Brant would
hold her close, kiss her gently, and brush her hair behind her
ears—all the little gestures that showed his feelings beyond
friendship.

But, as good
as things were going, the day they were only a week away from
England came and it came much too soon. When Casper came up to him
and announced that, weather permitting and if the wind remained in
their favor, they would be docking in a week he found himself
almost upset. He hoped a storm would rise up and drive them off
course. He hoped that the wind would disappear completely and leave
them floating aimlessly; anything to keep the day of Catherine
leaving as far away as possible.

They had
incredibly smooth sailing the whole two months. Not a storm had
arisen, which was strange for this time of year and the wind had
been, for the most part, in their favor. Nature was conspiring to
get Catherine out of his life as quickly as possible. At the
beginning of their voyage Brant might have been glad, but so much
had changed in a short time and he wasn’t ready for it to end.
Catherine, on the other hand, seemed to think nothing of it. She
remained cheerful and happy, helping Matthew with various
activities to help him regain his strength while Brant was busy and
spending every moment with him that he wasn’t.

Brant tried to
hide how he was feeling and enjoy each moment with her. But he knew
she could tell something was bothering him. When he would become
silent and distant in the middle of a conversation she would hug
him tightly and kiss him on the cheek, whisper for him not to worry
and to come back to her. She needed him as much as he needed her.
She had a way of making Brant forget about passing time and to just
enjoy the moment, but the thought of her leaving always
returned.

“
Brant, you have to stop worrying. You don’t know what the
future holds,” she said one day as he fell into one of his silent
moments.

“
I’m afraid to find out. I’m not ready for things to change.
This is all so new.”

She nodded and
stroked his face where rough stubble had cropped up in the last
couple days. “Just have faith. People do not come together just to
be torn apart.”

And Brant
desperately hoped she was right. They deserved to be happy
together, didn’t they? Catherine was the woman he had always
wanted. She was intelligent, brave, strong and beautiful. She was
nothing like the women other men of his profession chose to
associate with, she was high class, yet humble and kind. He had
always hoped to find someone like her but thought it impossible.
Yet, here fate had thrown her at him and he had to cherish every
remaining second with her. To let her go, when he had her in his
grasp was too much to ask of a man who had resigned himself to
being alone the rest of his life. He couldn’t let her go. Not now,
not in a week, not ever.

But even
though she reassured him there was a reason for this, that they
wouldn’t be torn apart, he didn’t know how he was going to keep her
from leaving.

As the
BlackFox
sailed into London’s port, Brant carefully navigated the ship
to a dock. He hadn't seen Catherine all day and presumed she was
packing and getting ready to make an acceptable appearance back
into society. As men tied the ship tightly against the dock and
lowered the ramp Catherine finally exited her cabin. She had on a
much finer dress than any she had worn since Brant had rescued her.
He remembered it though, taken from the clothes he had in the hold,
but she hadn't worn it until now. It was a beautiful dark grey,
rich with embroidery and a lace collar that went up her neck. She
looked elegant, no, regal and Brant felt incredibly uncomfortable
in her presence. She had once again adopted the mask and had
successfully hidden who she had grown to be in her time on
the
BlackFox
.

Approaching
her, Brant reached out for an embrace but she recoiled, holding her
head up high.

“
Not now, Brant.”

“
Why not?”

“
It isn't appropriate. Think how it will look.”

Brant frowned
but respected her wishes and took a step back. “Is there anything
you need out of the cabin?”

She laughed.
“I came aboard with nothing. All I have is this,” she held up the
package of fabric Brant had bought her in Casablanca. She hadn't
made use of it yet. “I'm afraid I'm an awful seamstress. I thought
I would save it and have a dressmaker put it to good use.”

“
And the clothes I gave you?”

“
It is all still good. You can make a profit off of it so I
left it all. I just took this dress.”

“
Then I'll have James fetch a carriage for you.”

“
Thank you. Will you come with me? I'll have my father pay
you.”

“
Payment really isn't necessary, Catherine.”

“
I promised you payment. I don't want to bring our
relationship into this. Please, accompany me home and I'll have my
father give you your due.”

Brant nodded.
“Very well.”

It hurt, how
cold Catherine was being. She had reassured him time and again that
two people didn’t get brought together only to be ripped apart, and
yet here she was distancing herself from him in any and every way
possible.

He walked off
to find James and, once the instructions were given, he went about
the many duties that had to be attended to when in a new port. He
paid the dock fee, registered his boat and made arrangements to
have his goods looked at by a local merchant. By the time that was
all taken care of a carriage was ready and waiting for them.

He offered
Catherine his arm and escorted her down the docks and into the
carriage, climbing in and sitting across from her. Brant didn’t
really know what to say so he remained quiet for the drive, which
proved to be quite short.