The Captain's Caress (5 page)

“That’s two questions at once,” Brent said. Under other circumstances his dawning smile might have allayed her fears; now it gave birth to a strange disquiet.

“We’re headed for Havana to sell our cargo. Then I’m taking you to one of the islands to await Gowan’s reply.”

“Are you holding me for ransom?” she asked. Brent thought of his mother waiting patiently year after year for letters that never came, dying a little bit each day, and an implacable light glowed in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t exactly use that term, but I guess it’ll do as well as any,” he said.

“What do you mean by that?” Summer asked, distrusting the hardness she detected in his features. “Why else would you keep me here?”

“There’s a small matter of three ruined lives to be accounted for,” he said bitterly. “You’re small compensation for so much destruction, but I intend to extract a costly vengeance.”

“What are you talking about?” she cried.

“Retribution!” he growled with explosive force.

“But why?” she asked, her voice dry in her throat.

“For what your husband did to my family and a poor old sailor who tried to help me. I’ve waited for ten long years, and I can’t think of a better way to repay Gowan than through his own wife.” The look of steel was back in his eyes.

“But why me?” she pleaded. “I’ve done nothing to you.”

“You don’t matter,” he said roughly. “You’re only a pawn, a means to plunge my knife into Gowan’s belly.” But even as he spoke the words, he knew they were untrue.

When Smith had told him the
Sea Otter
carried Gowan’s wife, he had barely restrained a shout of joy. By holding Gowan’s wife for ransom, he could wreak some small measure of vengeance. But when Summer had appeared instead of the middle-aged woman he’d expected, the thought that such a beautiful creature could agree to become Gowan’s wife fanned his rage until he was unaware of the naked desire that swept over him.

As he looked at her now, her lovely face flushed, her eyes wide with apprehension, and her rapid breath thrusting her ripe, full breasts against the tight bodice of her gown, he became conscious of a longing inside him that had nothing to do with revenge—a deep animal need to satisfy his passion with this girl who excited it. The yearning was so strong it sapped the strength of his hate and turned it to hunger. His fingers itched to caress the soft skin of her cheek, to glide down the planes of her bare shoulders until they encountered the uplifted thrust of the heaving breasts that teased and taunted his senses.

Conflicting emotions battled within him, so fiercely that they left him feeling Weak. With solemn determination, he averted his eyes from Summer’s tantalizing image and pushed the distracting thoughts aside.

“I came to tell you we dine in an hour. We brought all your things on board.” He pointed to the trunks and clothes scattered around the room. “But I’m afraid my men don’t know much about packing women’s clothes.” The change of subject seemed to help and he felt some of the tension drain from his aching limbs.

“They’ve probably ruined everything,” she snapped.

“You can buy more. No countess would be satisfied with so little clothing.” His anger blossomed anew as he remembered she was Gowan’s wife.

“Well this is all I have now, and not even you can expect me to appear in gowns that are crushed or torn.”

“Nonsense,” said Brent. He picked up a chemise that lay on top of one of the piles. “This isn’t torn at all.” The thought of her slim body clad only in the delicate fabric caused his blood to warm and eased his anger.

“I might wear it if I were the mercenary strumpet you take me to be,” she said snatching the garment from him and blushing to the roots of her hair, “but I’d starve before I’d sit down to dinner in my underwear.” A spontaneous smile raced across Brent’s face and transformed him into a handsome young man with laughing eyes that nearly took her breath away.

“We’d probably starve as well,” Brent said with a hot glance. “There’s not a man on board who could spare a thought for food with such a sight at the table.” Summer struggled to regain control of her weak limbs. The feelings that had swamped her when she’d first seen Brent threatened to overwhelm her again. His abundant animal magnetism made her feel like a swimmer being pulled under by hidden currents.

“That’s not my idea of a compliment,” she managed to reply after a struggle.

“I wasn’t trying to compliment you,” he said bluntly, “but I’m not blind. You have a beautiful body.”

“I would never appear so improperly dressed,” Summer said, flustered. She labored to regain some of her poise, but she was unnerved to discover that she was pleased by his straightforward admiration.

“Pity,” said Brent, giving Summer a look so heated that she flushed and threw the petticoat from her.

Lowering her eyes, she tried very hard to fight the frightening attraction she had for this man. “You’ll have to go now,” she said more quietly. “I’ll need every possible minute if I’m to clear away this mess and be dressed in time. It’s going to take me longer without Bridgit.”

“Things aren’t as bad as you think,” he said, the twinkle in his eyes becoming so pronounced that Summer felt her knees weaken. “I have to dress, too.”

“So?”

“This is
my
cabin. My clothes are here.”

“But that’s impossible!” Summer gulped in consternation.

“I can help you clear away this mess and show you where to put your clothes. I will even hook up your gown.” He gave Summer such a hungry look that she felt her clothes had suddenly vanished, exposing her to his ravenous gaze. She backed away and sat down on the bed, jumped back up again when she realized where she was. Brent’s twinkle of amusement threatened to expand into a laugh.

“You can’t mean it,” she stammered. “I’ve never done anything, I mean, I wouldn’t do anything, I mean, oooooh, I don’t know
what
I mean,” she exploded in desperation, “but you can’t stay here. I’d faint with mortification.”

“Do you faint often?” Brent asked curiously. “I’m afraid you’re going to be unconscious a lot during the next few weeks.” He moved to a bureau and began to take out stacks of clothing. “I’ll give you half of the drawers, but you’ll have to make do with that. There’s not a spare inch from bow to stern. We’re riding so low now that a good storm would force me to throw a fortune into the sea just to stay afloat.”

“I hope we run into a hurricane and you have to throw
everything
overboard,” Summer said spitefully.

“You’d better hope we
don’t.
The first thing to go would be your trunks.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“I most certainly would. This ship is a business. I can’t make a profit throwing my goods into the sea. But your clothing is another matter. Besides, Gowan will buy you more.” The sound of that hated name caused his wrath to arc again. He was having trouble remembering to be angry with this entrancing girl, and the fierce catapulting back and forth between opposite passions threatened to turn his mood completely black.

“Not even you could find new clothes in the middle of the Atlantic,” she said crossly.

“Then you’d have to wear that dress until we reach Cuba.”

“That could take months. It would be in shreds.”

“You’ll forgive me if I hope for a small storm at least,” Brent said, grinning at her in a way that caused her heart to flutter uncomfortably in her chest. “That’s a sight I’d give half my shares to see.”

“I’d wrap myself in a sheet and not set foot outside this cabin, even if it took years for me to be rescued from this detestable ship,” she said furiously.

“In that case, I suggest you pray for fair weather,” snapped Brent. “Now, charming though it may be to talk with you, I have to dress. I’ll help you with your gown, or you can wear what you have on. It makes no difference to me.”

Summer glowered at him; she was trapped and had to accept his presence, but she didn’t have to accept his help. “It’ll take me half a day to put all these things away properly,” she said in a sulky voice, turning to the piles of clothing scattered about the room. “Go have your dinner. I’ll stay here.”

“You’ll dine with everyone else. I won’t have you starving.” Brent’s tone admitted of no argument. “There, I’ve cleared this chest. It’s not much space, but you can’t expect me to throw all my clothes out. Not unless you’re willing to do the same.”

“You’re the most ill-mannered man I’ve ever met,” Summer retorted, although she was discomfited by her reaction to his nearness.

“Because I think you’d look lovely in a shift?” he asked, feeling hot desire surge through him again.

“That’s not what you meant, and you know it,” she said, stamping her small foot. “It’s mortifying, and I can’t wait until the earl gives you the beating you deserve.” Brent drew near Summer, his expression so grim that she looked about for a place to hide.

“No one,” he growled, “and most especially the earl, is going to beat me. I suggest you remember that you’re under my protection now. I’ve treated you with great tolerance up to this point, but if you continue to behave like a spiteful shrew, I may change my mind.”

“If you call abducting and abusing me tolerant behavior, you’re insane,” asserted Summer. “Now you’re threatening to violate every concept of modesty and propriety as well. I suppose that’s some more of your
tolerant
behavior?”

“Don’t get worked up over nothing,” he said sharply. “You’re only changing your clothes.”

“This isn’t nothing,” she said, seething. “You talk about me sitting down to dine half-dressed like it’s a harmless joke instead of a painful humiliation. And if you think I’m going to stand here sorting my linens while you stare at me you’re out of your mind,” she added with a flourish.

“I don’t give a damn when you sort them,” Brent shot back at her. “I’ve seen too many females in underwear to be interested in yours. You can hang these items from the masts for all I care, though I don’t advise it. After so many months at sea the men are easily distracted, and they might get the wrong idea.”

“You’re the most heartless, cruel, inhuman! …”

“Maybe, but I don’t make a habit of standing around talking arrant nonsense. Now I’m going to change my clothes. You can waste your time calling me names if you like, but dinner is still at seven.” With that ultimatum, he took off his coat and folded it up neatly. “I don’t have a valet, so I will show you how to take care of yourself.” He pulled off his tie and began to unbutton his shirt.

“Oh,” she said in a faint voice, and buried her face in her hands.

“You must learn to make the most of limited space at sea, but you’ll never do that if you keep your hands over your eyes.” He wanted to stay angry, but her attraction was so great he found himself acting like a schoolboy trying to impress a girl.

“It’s indecent,” muttered Summer.

“I take that as a personal insult. You may not think me handsome, but you don’t have to call me indecent.”

“You know you’re not … you know I didn’t mean,” she stammered. In her agitation, she uncovered her eyes and they fell on Brent’s well-muscled chest, shoulders, and arms. His discarded shirt lay at his feet. “Oh my God,” she whimpered, and sank down on the bed, too weak to put her hands back over her eyes.

“See, it’s not as bad as you thought.” Brent sat down to change his boots.

“It’s horrible,” Summer said in a tremulous voice, but she was unable to take her eyes off the overwhelming male body in front of her. He was so near she could reach out and touch him. Summer had seen bare-chested men before. The muscular workers in the sugar-cane fields rarely wore more than a loincloth, but somehow it had never mattered. This man began to pull off his boots, and she felt shattered, helpless before the powerful force of his presence. She tried not to look at him, but her eyes persisted in devouring every inch of him, from the short amber fur that covered the center of his chest to the deep tan on his shoulders and arms. Every detail seemed to fit perfectly into the mesmerizing force of the whole, resulting in an almost lethal dose of raw male power.

Brent’s huge muscles flexed, strained, and rippled as he worked to pull off the tight-fitting boots; they played across his chest, down his powerful shoulders, and along his straining forearms, rippling his smooth, tanned skin and making him look like a huge sleek cat stretching its muscles for the sheer pleasure of it.

After a struggle, Brent got his boots off and rose to put them away. In spite of herself, Summer watched as he moved across the cabin in stockinged feet, his lithe grace as sensual as it was inviting. Fingers of charged excitement raced hither and thither through her body, churning up unnamed feelings and causing her to tense with excitement.

As he reached up to place the boots on a shelf above his head, his tall frame, tapered from broad shoulders to narrow waist, was displayed for easy viewing. His torso was smooth and glowed in the light, his stomach was flat and taut. Summer was fascinated and watched helplessly as he twisted and bent to put things away or to retrieve items he wanted.

A wicked grin danced on his lips when he turned to her and began to undo his breeches. That was too much for Summer. With a smothered moan, she threw herself upon the bed and buried her face in the pillows. Her long burnished locks were all that Brent could see.