The Captain's Caress (19 page)

“Why don’t they stop?” Summer had found her voice at last. “Why doesn’t someone do something?”

“They’re going to finish the race,” Smith said, and for once his voice was not calm.

“But they must stop,” Summer declared. “Somebody’s got to make them.” Out of the corner of her eye she could see the other swimmers climbing up the sea ladders. “Please, stop them,” she pleaded, unable to take her eyes off the battling pair.

“There they are!” a voice called out. She could see several fins cutting the water less than fifty yards from where the two swimmers, nearly exhausted, were struggling to make the last ten yards. Brent’s tremendous effort had strained even his powerful frame, but he was slowly and painfully inching up on Lane, the tension in his face betraying the intensity of his determination and the terrible cost to his body.

Summer plodded blindly along the deck staying as close to Brent as she could. Her throat was so parched from fear that she couldn’t utter a sound, and the usually gruff, unemotional crewmen behind her were strangely quiet. Only the noise made by the swimmers’ kicks and the vigorous thrashing of oars broke the tense silence. A third boat was in the water now so that one was on each side of the swimmers and the last was positioned at the finish to haul in the exhausted combatants as soon as they completed the race.

“For the love of God,” Summer groaned, “won’t somebody pull them into the boats! Why do they wait?” She grabbed Smith’s arm. “They’re going to be killed.”

“I think they’re safe,” he replied, showing some of his habitual calm. “The men have them surrounded. It’s not likely a shark can get through to them now.” But the words had hardly left Smith’s mouth when Summer’s grip on his arm tightened.

“Look at that one,” she said in a deathlike whisper. With a quick movement, one shark had separated from the group, its speed and manner of swimming changing abruptly. It had scented prey and was closing in for the kill. As Summer watched that protruding fin rapidly near Brent, she froze.

Moving almost as quickly as the shark, one of the boats changed direction. In a quick wrenching motion, it cut across the trail of the swimmers, nearly running across the driving feet of the two men as it was deftly positioned between the charging shark and its intended victims.

When the shark found its path blocked, it quickly cut around the boat and headed straight for Brent’s legs, its great mouth wide open. The voracious creature was so close that Summer could see its three rows of teeth; they could cut a man in half with one snap of those powerful jaws.

“Brent!” A single terrified shriek ripped from her throat. She was drained of color, unable to move, helpless to do anything except watch this nightmare unfold before her. Then just as she was sure she would witness a tragedy that would haunt her for the rest of her life, a young man stood up in the rocking boat. Raising an oar over his head, he brought it down with stunning force on the head of the onrushing shark. The enraged beast’s mouth slammed shut with an audible snap, and it came to a dead stop. But not before it had struck the boat with enough force to pitch the young sailor into the boiling water on top of the infuriated monster.

“Oh, my God,” ejaculated Smith.

Unable to endure any more, Summer fainted. She slid quietly to the deck, unnoticed and unaided.

Chapter 16

When Summer opened her eyes for the third time that morning, the first thing she saw was Brent’s face. His eyes were filled with concern, but her relief at seeing him was so great she feared she might faint again.

“You’re safe!” she exclaimed, remembering the shark.

“I’m not a bit worse for a little excitement.”

“But the shark?” she questioned.

“He’s not doing as well.” Brent laughed, and his gleaming white teeth reminded her of the shark’s lethal weapons.

“But I saw him. He was so
big.”
Summer shuddered.

“He’s not so big now,” Brent responded, laughing even harder. “And he’s got something else to do with those teeth than try to chew up my crew.”

“What happened to the boy?” she asked, suddenly remembering the heroic youth.

“He’s still a little weak from attempting to ride a shark bareback, but he’s unharmed.”

“But I saw him fall on top of that monster. How did he get away?”

“You’ve asked enough questions for the time being,” Brent said solicitously. “Lie here and rest for a while. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

“Brent Douglas!” Summer sat up, a martial light in her eyes. “If you
dare
leave me here without telling me what happened, I’ll … I’ll…”

“Just what will you do?” he asked, his amused smile duplicated on the dozen faces around his.

“You’re a beast and a bully,” she said, taking refuge in the words, “and there’s not a decent bone in your whole body.” A volley of laughter ran through the gathered seamen, causing Summer to scowl angrily.

“I’m certain the countess will be able to recover her strength more quickly in private,” Smith suggested, casting a significant glance at the men clustered about.

“Back to work, all of you,” Brent ordered. “I want this ship under full sail in less than thirty minutes, and that won’t happen if you stand about with your mouths open like fish waiting for a hook.” As the men scattered to attend to their tasks, Brent said to Summer, “You can remain on deck if you like, but stay off your feet. Smith will see to you until I get back.”

“Don’t hurry,” she retorted. “I need lots of rest. Who knows when a little excitement might send me off again. And, goodness knows, your presence is enough to give a healthy person a fit.”

“You’re making a quick recovery. I expect you to be in fighting trim by the midday meal.”

“That man!” Summer declared, exasperated. “I wish the shark
had
bitten him. Smith.” She turned to the first mate, determination shining in her eyes.

“Yes, milady.” He smiled. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. If I don’t, you’ll be in a high fever when the captain returns and he’ll hold me responsible.”

Summer blushed. “It’s not that bad. The captain’s not really worried about me.”

“Begging your pardon, milady, but I don’t agree. Now what do you want to know?”

Summer almost forgot about the shark in her desire to ask Smith what he had meant, but she forced her thoughts back to the race.

“What happened to that boy?”

“The captain and Lane were being pulled into the boat when Silas fell in. Before anyone could stop him the captain dove back in to rescue the lad.”

Summer’s eyes widened in disbelief. “But he was exhausted from the race. Besides, he didn’t have any weapon. What did he think he could fight that shark with? His rapier wit?”

“We were wondering the same thing,” Smith answered, doing his best to preserve an unrevealing countenance. “But the captain has fooled us many times before. We should have known he’d have something up his sleeve.”

“Since he was practically naked, it couldn’t have been much of a surprise to anyone, not even the shark,” Summer snorted.

“Milady, don’t you
like
the captain?” Smith was momentarily diverted by the sharpness of Summer’s rejoinder.

“We’re not discussing my opinions,” she said firmly. “What did he do?”

“The shark was thrashing about looking for something to chew up,” Smith explained, “so the captain shoved the oar Silas had dropped into its mouth. The beast was so crazed with anger it bit the oar in half, but the splintered wood stuck in its throat. When the shark opened its mouth to dislodge that, the captain jammed the other piece of oar in. That caused the shark to thrash about so, it nearly dumped everyone into the water.”

“The crew pulled Silas and the captain back into the boats and headed for the ship, and not a moment too soon. A piece of the oar punctured the shark’s mouth and it started bleeding. Within seconds the other sharks had scented the blood and closed in. I don’t think they even realized their prey was one of their own kind.”

“Did they actually kill the shark?” Summer asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

“As far as we can tell. Before long the water will be filled with sharks from miles away, all ready to devour anything in their path.”

“Can’t we leave?”

“The captain is seeing to that now. There’s no danger to us, but it’s bad luck for a ship to be followed by sharks. If we don’t shake them before they recover from their feed, we’re bound to have at least one on our trail looking for garbage.”

“Ugh!” said Summer. She quivered with disgust and fear. “It’s absolutely revolting to think about that.”

“It’s not something you want to discuss over a meal.”

“I don’t think I can eat a thing,” she declared. “Maybe I’ll lie down in my cabin.”

“Yes, milady, if you really think that’s what you want to do.”

“What do you mean?” Summer asked. She could tell from the tone of his voice that he had more to relate.

“Well, I rather think the captain is expecting you to join him at table.”

“If that’s all, he can do without me.” She was disappointed. “I’m sure I’ll feel well enough to join him by dinner.”

“But it’ll be too late then.”

“Too late for what?”

“For the celebration.”

“Will you stop talking in riddles?” Summer was exasperated. “What could he possibly be celebrating? Not even your beloved captain could be so crass as to gloat over a bunch of dead sharks.”

“I don’t think he has sharks in mind.”

“I think you’ve been in the sun too long. Maybe
you’d
better lie down.”

Smith’s smile turned into an infectious grin in which Summer recognized the same reckless courage she saw in Brent.

“If you don’t stop smirking at me like you know all the answers, I’m going to have Brent throw you to the sharks. Then we’ll see how fast
you
can swim …
the race!”
she exclaimed, her eyes bright with excitement. “That’s what you’re trying to tell me, isn’t it?”

Smith nodded.

“He won, didn’t he?”

“Yes, milady, he certainly did.” Without warning Summer jumped up and threw her arms around Smith’s neck, laughing and hugging him at the same time. The poor man was unprepared for her assault and staggered backward, his own arms instinctively closing around her waist to keep her from falling.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” a voice thundered.

If Summer hadn’t been so beside herself with happiness, she would have seen the murderous look in Brent’s eyes or she would have sensed Smith’s trepidation. But she was too elated to be aware of either. In one quick movement, she released Smith and threw herself at Brent.

“You won!” she cried happily. “Smith just told me you won the race.”

“Is that why you’re throwing yourself all over my officer?” Brent asked, his face clearing somewhat. Smith began to think he might be allowed to live if she just didn’t do anything else foolish.

“Yes.” Summer laughed with uninhibited delight. “I was so afraid you were going to lose. It wasn’t fair either, not after you had done so much more than anyone else.”

“And it mattered that much to you?” Brent was used to winning, everyone expected it, but no one had ever been afraid that he might lose, or so rapturously happy that he had won. It was a new experience for him, and he didn’t know how to react to it. He felt uncomfortable, as if he were somehow bound to this strange, elfin creature that had so completely captivated him.

“Of course it did,” she replied. “Didn’t you hear me cheering for you? I was sure you saw me when you looked up.”

“I did,” he said, gazing at her with an unfamiliar warmth in his eyes. Suddenly she didn’t feel giddy or foolish anymore; she removed her arms from around his neck, but he wouldn’t let her go.

“Release me,” she begged, embarrassed now.

“I’d rather not. I like having you here.”

“You can’t stand here hugging me in front of the whole crew. What will they think?”

“It’s not my behavior that is shocking them. Everybody saw you throw yourself at both of us. I merely caught you so you wouldn’t fall.”

“You’re the most impossible man I’ve ever met,” Summer said, but then she laughed. “I don’t think you’ve ever been caught without a retort on the tip of your tongue.”

“What makes you think that?” he said, setting her on her feet.

“You’re never at a loss. You always seem to know what to do,” she said, adjusting her dress and then smoothing it out.

“You flatter me,” he said, and the laughter faded from his eyes. “Smith can tell you that I’ve gotten myself into one mighty tangle, and I still don’t know how to find my way out.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t you know?” he asked, watching her closely.

“How could I? I’ve only known you for a few weeks. You’ve had years and years to get in and out of scrapes I wouldn’t know anything about.”

“I did rather well for myself then.”

“I might have known you’d blame it on me.”

“On the contrary, that’s a compliment.”