Seductive Wager (28 page)

Chapter 16

By the time Kate had finished her coffee, her outlook was more optimistic and her breakfast looked more appetizing. Maybe it was the sea air, it certainly
wasn’t
the brandy, but she was hungry. She ate with a robust appetite, and when Brett returned nearly an hour later, there wasn’t a crumb left on her plate.

She had also managed to find her clothes and get dressed. She would have gone without breakfast for the rest of her life rather than face him again nude under the bedclothes. Just knowing he had undressed her and carried her through the streets wrapped in nothing more than a bedsheet caused her to flush with mortification, but she was honest enough to admit she hadn’t given him much choice. He probably could have found some other way if he’d tried, but knowing him, he had probably enjoyed it!

After the fuss he made over carrying her valise a few yards, she was surprised he hadn’t dumped her on a vegetable cart and ordered Charles or Mark to carry her. Well, maybe not Mark. The poor boy would have walked the whole way with his eyes closed. Kate giggled just as Brett entered the cabin.

“I’m glad to see your spirits have improved. I knew you’d feel better once you got that drink in you. Now you won’t mind facing a heaving deck and rolling seas.”

Kate turned green. “I’d rather not,” she said weakly.

“I couldn’t resist,” Brett said with another of his devastating smiles; his coal-black eyes looked more human than Kate could ever remember. “The captain says he’s never seen the ocean so calm, so come up and enjoy it. Good weather never lasts long in the Atlantic.” He took a shawl from one of the drawers of a large wardrobe and held it up for her. “I started to unpack for you,” he said by way of explanation, “but decided you might prefer to put your own things away.”

Kate couldn’t think of a single word to say, and covered her confusion by accepting his help in placing the shawl over her shoulders. She gave it a final tug and moved out into the passageway. It was long and narrow with many doors opening from it, and as Kate climbed the narrow steps toward the welcoming sunlight, she wondered if every man on the ship slept within hearing distance of all that happened in her cabin.

Brett had not exaggerated. It was a magnificent day. The sky was a perfect robin’s-egg blue from horizon to horizon with only a few wispy clouds to break the monotony of its endless expanse. They seemed immobile, blown into place by an unseen force but as carefully arranged as the beauty patches of a seventeenth-century courtesan. The sun’s bright light caused her eyes to smart, but its penetrating warmth was a welcome counter to the chill in the air. A light breeze blew Kate’s hair back from her face, and she wrapped the shawl more tightly around her shoulders as she faced into the wind, breathing deeply of the clean, invigorating sea air.

The water was a clear greenish-blue, and Kate watched fascinated as fish swam just below the surface. The ship seemed to be barely moving, but the white wake belied her speed. The huge, billowing sails were full, and she ran before the wind as easily and naturally as the great sea birds above floated on the ocean’s updrafts. A dolphin broke the surface, playfully chasing a fish it didn’t feel hungry enough to catch.

This was so different from her first experience when all she remembered was a black storm-tossed night filled with the spectre of Brett’s wound and her illness; it was as though she was looking at the sea for the very first time. Brett was silent; he knew the Atlantic was showing her a false face, but there would be plenty of time later to warn her of storms which could toss a ship about like dry leaves in an autumn wind. For the time being, it was quite enough that she was enjoying herself.

He guided her around the deck pointing out things he thought she might find interesting, but Kate had no desire to learn anything about the workings of the ship or the tasks of its crew. She also disliked being near the rail and refused to get any closer than necessary. “I can enjoy the morning just as much from a chair as I can hanging over the edge,” she retorted when he teased her about her fear.

Returning to the widest part of the deck, Kate settled back in a canvas chair and closed her eyes. The sea air was still cool, but the penetrating heat of the sun plus a heavy blanket provided by one of the sailors made it nearly too warm, and Kate began to feel almost languorous.

“It’s still too cool to be really comfortable,” Brett chatted companionably, “but it will get warmer as we head farther south. It can get quite hot in the Mediterranean in the summer, but we’ll be there in May, before it gets too miserable.”

A languid “hmm” was Kate’s only comment. She felt so relaxed that she had almost forgotten her hangover. Her head still hurt when she tried to think, but it was much better than an hour earlier, and she gave herself over to the full enjoyment of the sun, the sea, the salt air, and the cool breezes.

The day passed pleasantly. After a light lunch, she was back on deck for a long nap, but when the sun began to sink into the far horizon, the deepening chill in the air woke her. For a moment no sound came to her ears and she could imagine she was the only person on earth, the sole witness to this magnificent panorama.

Dinner was a leisurely affair served in the captain’s cabin. Even though it was their first day out of port, Kate could hardly believe the number and quality of the dishes spread before her.

“Where did you find a chef who can cook like this?” she asked in wonder.

The captain managed to stop staring at her long enough to reply somewhat incoherently, “Foreign office.”

“This was Lord Thunderburke’s personal touch,” Brett explained. “Ill-prepared food gives him the melancholia, and he’s certain everyone else suffers from the same annoyance.”

Kate rose to her feet when the brandy was put on the table. The ship’s officers begged her to remain, but Brett did not add his entreaty to theirs, so she declined their invitation with becoming grace and withdrew to her cabin.

The sound of the door closing behind her brought Kate face-to-face with what the evening held for her. All day long she had refused to think about it, but she was Brett’s wife and she knew there was no way to avoid sharing her bed with him; not one soul would come to her aid now and certainly not those officers with their bold and heated eyes.

She had avoided thinking of her forced marriage—the pain in her head wouldn’t allow it and she felt too tired to tackle such a seemingly insurmountable problem—but she could no longer avoid the full significance of her spoken vows and she felt the familiar stirring of anger. Once again Brett had forced her to do something against her will, and once again she found herself helpless against him. Angrily she renewed her promise to find a way out of this fraudulent marriage the minute she got back to England. She was certain that once her uncle knew the circumstances, he would help her divorce Brett, or end the marriage in some less scandalous manner, but until then she had no choice. Like it or not, she must bow to the inevitable and accept her position as Brett’s bride.

His
bride!
What she felt now was a mockery of everything a bride should feel for her husband. She didn’t fear him or find his embraces distasteful, but she did not welcome his return to the cabin. Knowing what was before her, it was impossible for Kate to shut out memories of that night at the inn, but neither could she deny that she experienced a shiver of pleasurable anticipation. Once more she flushed with shame at the recollection of how her body’s response to Brett had overruled all objections from her mind; she would never be able to erase from her memory the unexpected sensations that had enslaved her, body and soul, and made her, for a few minutes at least, Brett’s willing and enthusiastic partner. Neither could she deny the feeling of pleasure and satisfaction that she had experienced before the enormity of what they had done banished all feeling except horror and rage. But most important of all, she could not forgive him for robbing her of what only she had the right to bestow.

She made up her mind that regardless of what she might have to deny herself, Brett would find no welcome in her arms; the laws of God and man might say that she owed him the duty of obedience, but he would get no more.
Obedience!
She had no intention of yielding anything more than her body to him, either now or in the future. She removed her gown and leisurely began to prepare for bed; she expected Brett to sit with the captain over their brandy for some time yet. The mere thought of brandy caused her to shudder.

She put on her nightgown and sat down to brush her hair, but she had not completed more than half a dozen strokes when Brett entered quietly. Surprised and somewhat fearful, her hand froze halfway down the length of her hair, then she quickly resumed her brushing in hopes Brett hadn’t noticed her hesitation. She heard a click as he turned the key in the lock and her heart nearly stopped beating. Now there was no hope of escape.
You’re a fool,
she told herself.
There never was.

Brett came to stand behind her; without a word he took the brush from her hands and began to stroke her hair expertly. She could tell he had done this before.
He’s probably brushed more hair than half the ladies’ maids in London,
Kate thought to herself. There’s no telling
what
this man has done.

Kate started to tie up her hair, but Brett pulled it loose again. “I don’t want it in a knot. I want to be able to run my fingers through it,” he said softly. For one moment she thought wildly of escape, of throwing herself on the captain’s mercy or leaping into the sea, but she knew she was being foolish; she couldn’t even get out of the cabin. She trembled inside. She could think of nothing to do, so she got up and walked over to the bed. “Which side do you prefer?”

“It doesn’t matter tonight,” he said with a smile that made her eyes widen in alarm. She quickly threw off her robe, kicked off her slippers, and slid between the sheets. She lay rigid but less fearful than she had anticipated. She wasn’t looking forward to the evening, but she was pleased to know she was no longer frightened.

Brett blew out all the lights except for the small lamp next to the bed, then in the soft glow of that single light he proceeded to undress,
completely.
He did so very slowly, methodically removing each piece of clothing and hanging or folding it up. Kate knew he was doing this intentionally to madden her, but she was fascinated nevertheless. She realized much to her surprise she had standards and expectations, and this man was not only meeting every one of them, he was exceeding them. She had already admitted he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. Even with his nearly perpetual frown, he was devastatingly good-looking. Any girl would think so. From the thick black hair to the penetrating black eyes set under equally thick black brows, from the straight nose to the full, generous lips, from the prominent line of the jaw to the jutting chin, his face was one to set a maiden’s heart fluttering and to turn her dreams into a nightmare of hopeless longing.

But as he bent, twisted, and turned to complete his undressing, Kate became aware of his powerful physique, the heavily muscled shoulders, and the broad chest tapering quickly to a flat abdomen ribbed with muscle. His chest was covered with a thick short mat of curling black hair, but it did virtually nothing to hide the muscling of his torso.

Kate shivered and burrowed a little deeper into the covers; surely such a powerful body would crush her. Then he removed his pants and stood completely naked before her. She blushed from her toes to the top of her head, but she couldn’t turn her head. His long, powerful legs rose straight and true to meet the rest of his body, but at that juncture, and thrusting out from a tangled mass of curly black hair, was his fully aroused manhood, frightfully enormous to Kate’s untutored eyes. She knew a moment of terror.

Brett slid between the sheets and drew Kate to him. She was stiff and reluctant, but he was gentle, and under his easy persuasion, she began to relax. He let his fingers play over her face while his eyes examined every feature in detail. He drank in her beauty like cool spring water, sure he would never be able to satisfy his thirst. He kissed her eyes, nose, and lips, easily at first and then with growing passion. Kate continued to lie still under his caresses, but he showed no sign that it bothered him. The heat of his own passion made him less and less aware of her lack of response. He undid the buttons of her nightgown and fondled the column of her throat. Then his hands slowly sank until they met the nippled mound of her breasts. He cupped them in his hands and his lips played across her cheeks and down her throat until they, too, found her breasts. Tenderly he kissed each one and fondled it lovingly. Then ever so carefully he took one of the stiffening ruby nipples into his mouth and made love to it with his lips. Unable to remain still any longer under this merciless assault, Kate squirmed under him. When he attacked the second nipple and let his audacious hand play down her side and across her abdomen, all pretense of remaining coolly uninvolved fled.

Kate drew in her breath with a gasp, but Brett caused her further dismay by sliding the nightgown slowly off her shoulders and under the whole length of her body until he dropped it to the floor. She was naked against him and could feel the burning heat of his body begin to flow into her own. His caressing lips and exploring hands were systematically working her into a frenzy. She had been determined to resist any advance, but Brett was moving deliberately, not rushing, and her own passion, stifled at first by fear and anger, began to free itself from all restrictions, and she could feel her body quiver with excitement.