Read The Game Online

Authors: Brenda Joyce

The Game (5 page)

BOOK: The Game
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Katherine trembled. His tone was far too soft. “Release me,” she whispered.

“I can—and shall—please you, darling, in every possible way.” His regard held hers.

She could hardly guess at his meaning, but she blushed. Crazy, jumbled images of a man and woman entwined rushed through her mind, the man big and bold and blond.

“There will only be one moment of pain,” he murmured. “And then there will be so much pleasure that you will forget all else but your desire.”

“No! Never!” she cried, forcing aside her imaginings.

His answer was a smile. “Taste me,” he said, and then he bent forward and brushed her mouth with his.

Katherine was unyielding. She tried to beat at his chest. But it was impossible. Quickly he caught her wrists, immobilizing her fully. His mouth was firm but gentle. He began to tease the seam of her lips with his tongue. Katherine realized that she was not breathing. When she did not open for him, he began, very gently, to nibble on the fullness of her lower lip. And all the while his manhood pulsed there between her legs, where he had lodged himself.

Her pulse pounded so hard she thought her heart might explode.

Katherine finally gasped for air, no longer able to deny her lungs. The pirate made a thick sound deep in his throat while he filled her completely. Katherine cried out, struggling anew, to no avail. His tongue swept the depths of her mouth. It was a stunning act of possession.

Katherine’s knees gave way and she sagged, but his iron grip prevented her from falling to the floor. And suddenly he tore his mouth from hers.

Dazed, Katherine stared into his eyes. She could not yet move. No one had ever hinted to her that such a kind of kiss was possible.

Katherine realized that she clung to his broad shoulders, and she tried to push him away. He allowed her to put a small distance between their heated bodies. She forced her thoughts away from the hot, hard feel of him, and spoke. It was not true, but she said, “My father will not pay a ransom if you abuse me.”

He smiled, bent his head, and kissed her neck. Katherine gasped. His mouth moved around her throat, forming an imaginary necklace with his kisses. Her heart beat harder, so hard he must surely hear it. He lifted his head, smiling again. “There shall be no abuse, sweetheart. I would never abuse a woman such as you.”

“You do not take me seriously!” she cried.

“No, I take you very seriously, indeed,” he murmured, holding her gaze.

Katherine could not guess at his meaning, but was certain there was more to his words than she could comprehend. “Then free me, unharmed,” she said.

His gaze flickered over her face, then over her breasts. “I cannot.”

Katherine cried out. “Why not?” It was a demand.

His jaw flexed. He was deadly earnest now, and it was hard to believe that just a few moments earlier he had been smiling. His fingers brushed her jaw once again. “Because you are the loveliest woman I have ever seen, and I want you very badly.”

Katherine was incredulous. “But you cannot have me!
I am not a pretty red apple, to be plucked and devoured on a whim. I am Katherine FitzGerald, daughter of the earl of Desmond, a noblewoman born and bred.
You cannot have me!

His gaze held hers, brilliant, diamondlike. It was a moment before he spoke. “To the contrary, not only can I have you, I shall,” he said. “You do not seem to understand. We are not in Desmond. We are on my ship. On the open sea. I am king here, master of everyone and everything you see. The moment you passed into my hands, you belonged to me. Katherine, I have no intention of hurting you. I do not rape virgins. You fear me now, but before the night is through, I shall prove your fear misplaced.”

For a moment she stared at him, speechless. Just past his shoulder she saw the big bed. “Think of the ransom I can bring! S-surely that is worth more than a passing pleasure!”

The corners of his lips lifted ever so slightly. “Did you not hear a word I said? I have no wish to ransom you.” He lifted her chin. His gaze moved to her lips. “Ransom is the last thing on my mind.”

Fully aware that he intended to kiss her again, she shouted, “Let me go!
Please
.”

He stared at her, something flickering in his eyes. His fingertip skidded across her cheek again. Then he looked directly into her eyes. “You do not understand. And I am sorry, Katherine, to be the one to inform you of the facts, but even if I wished to ransom you, which I do not, a ransom is impossible.”

Katherine tensed, suddenly far more afraid than she had been before. “What are you saying?” she whispered.

He hesitated, then grew brisk. “Your father is the queen’s prisoner, has been such for many years.”

Katherine stared, unable to make a sound, unable even to breathe.

His gaze searched hers. “FitzGerald was convicted of high treason, his lands and title forfeit. In fact, there is no earl of Desmond, no earl, no earldom, just a prisoner in disgrace.”

Katherine stared at him in shock and disbelief.

K
atherine’s mind screamed,
It cannot be true!

The pirate broke into her thoughts. “So you see, Katherine, your father can neither pay a ransom, nor help you.”

She met his gaze, her green eyes wild. “I do not believe you. You are lying!”

He remained calm. “I am not lying. I speak what the whole world knows. I speak the facts.”

Katherine refused to believe him. She could not believe him. Her father a prisoner of the Crown, stripped of his lands and title? Oh, God! No, it could not be possible.

His tone became more gentle. “But your father is alive, Katherine. He was not hanged. I believe he still resides in Southwark, where he is under house arrest.”

Katherine jerked, her bosom heaving. “Southwark?” She was numb. Southwark, not Desmond. Her father was a prisoner of the Crown, forced to remain in London—in exile.

“Understandably you are shocked,” he said, watching her closely.

And Katherine hated him. She hated him for his indifference, for his intentions, and for having harbored and then revealed such ugly news. For having revealed the horrible truth. “You understand nothing about me,” she snarled. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Get away from me!”

His jaw tightened. Coolly he turned away from her. Immediately Katherine sagged against the wall, beginning
to shake. If her father was a prisoner of the Crown, stripped of all that he possessed, then her departure from the convent had been all for nothing. If her father were in such disgrace, in such exile, then she herself was reduced to disgrace and exile, too. For without a title and a dowry, no man would want her. Suddenly she had no future, no dreams, no hope. Suddenly she was Mistress Nobody.

“Drink this.”

Katherine looked up wildly, saw the pirate handing her a glass of brandy. “No.”

“How headstrong you are,” he said softly. “Do not be a fool. Drink.” And he gripped her chin and pushed the rim of the glass to her lips.

Katherine choked when he tilted the glass, succeeding in getting a few drops of the fiery liquid down her throat. She swatted his hand away. Brandy splashed over his bronzed skin. His mouth tightened, anger appeared in his eyes. “I am not a gentle man. Nor am I kind. But I am trying to go slowly with you,” he said. “To tame you as I might a wild mare. I have no wish to break you, Katherine. Despite the fact that my lust remains huge.”

She took a deep breath. “I am not a horse, to be bridled and trained.”

“But you are a woman, one without a protector, and like all women, you need a man, both to protect and firmly guide you.”

“And you think to be that man? To be my protector?” she shouted, furious. “To rein me as you will?”

“I am not giving you any choice.”

Livid, Katherine tried to push past him, but he caught her with one powerful arm, crushing her to his chest. He set the brandy down without releasing her. Katherine stiffened instantly. The last place she wished to be was in his arms, pressed against his hard, aroused body. She squirmed to separate herself from him.

“I have a very lusty nature,” he said very softly. “And I suspect we suit each other.”

“We do not suit! Take your lust elsewhere,” she hissed.

“No.”

She looked into his hard gray gaze and understood him
completely. He did not care for her or her feelings. He knew she had no family, no name, to protect her now. He was conscienceless, and would take advantage of her predicament. Nothing would, or could, stop him from ruining her when he chose to do so. It was but a matter of time.

Katherine wished she could think clearly. She still had to fight her way through a maze of shock and disbelief and fear. Surely there was a way out of her dilemma. After all, she was Katherine FitzGerald. Surely there was something left, some small amount of hoarded money, some secret parcel of land. There were her uncles and kinsmen. And there was her proud, ancient name. “Unhand me,” she said.

He did as she asked.

Aware that her heart was racing again, Katherine backed away from him. He did not move, watching her with eyes at once cold and hot. The coldness, she knew, came from his lack of a heart. The heat came from his loins.

Katherine put the heavy dining table between them. She gripped the back of one of the Spanish chairs. Perhaps, just perhaps, he lied, although she no longer thought so. It would explain why there had been no pension for the past three and a half years, why her father had not answered any of the abbess’s inquiries. In any case, she must now learn all that she could. “Tell me about my father.”

He shrugged gracefully and stalked toward her. Katherine froze, but he was not pursuing her. He settled one lean hip upon the edge of the table and faced her. “What is it you wish to know?”

“Everything.” Her voice shook. “I cannot believe that he has been convicted of treason. That he is a prisoner…in disgrace.”

The pirate regarded her intently, so intently that Katherine looked away. Finally he spoke. “After Affane, Butler imprisoned your father at Clonmel. The queen ordered them both to court, and your father was immediately tossed into the Tower. He remained there for two years. The queen and her Council were undecided about what to do with him. She was angry with Tom Butler, of course, for his part in their feud, but he was pardoned.”

“Of course,” Katherine said stiffly. Tom Butler, the earl of Ormond, was not just her father’s hated enemy, but Queen Elizabeth’s cousin and thus a favorite of hers as well. Katherine leaned forward, toward the pirate captain, her hands splayed out on the table, almost touching his. “But why?” she cried earnestly. “My father has transgressed before—but was always pardoned! Why did the queen not pardon him when she pardoned Ormond?”

“The queen was younger when she pardoned your father,” Liam said flatly. “And reluctant, I believe, to take on the issue of Ireland. This time she felt she must begin to bring the Irish lords to heel, especially your father, who refused to accept her authority on his lands. Do not forget, Ormond is a loyal subject. Nonetheless, her Council was divided. Factions formed. Some, led by Dudley and Sir William Cecil, favored a pardon and the return of your father to Desmond. Others, led by Ormond, favored his removal—forever.”

Katherine clawed the table. “And Black Tom Butler won.”

He nodded. “But with your father’s help. After two years, he was allowed to reside in Southwark, under guard and with restrictions. As you can well understand, he tried to escape, but the sea captain who was to aid him turned Judas. I believe the queen herself was most happy that they finally had some substantial charge with which to rid themselves of Desmond. He was tried for treason and convicted, his lands and title forfeit, two years ago. As far as I know, he is still under arrest at St. Leger House in Southwark.”

Katherine was dazed by what he had told her—dazed and dismayed. The refrain drummed through her brain: she was Mistress Nobody now, Mistress Nobody. “You are telling me that my father has been a prisoner ever since Affane.”

He nodded, watching her. “In the end, the need to bring southern Ireland under the Crown’s control, once and for all, won the day. As your father was the most powerful lord in Ireland, and the most defiant, his fate was doomed the moment Butler took him prisoner at Affane.”

Katherine closed her eyes, giving in to a moment of despair. Her father had been in one prison or another ever since she had left southern Ireland for France. For six years, he had been confined. And he had lost everything. How unjust it was. “I cannot believe this,” she whispered. “Dear Lord, I cannot.” And now she had lost everything, too. Now she had no future. No gentleman would want her—no one but this pirate would want her now.

“You must face the truth if you wish to survive.” His piercing tone brought her eyes to his face. His gaze held hers. “Listen closely to one who knows. I am a man of the sea, without either clan or country, and in order for me to survive, I must know every happenstance of import worldwide—and my actions are directed accordingly.”

She stared at him unblinkingly. “You are an O’Neill. I do not understand you. You have a clan, you have a country. And if you have chosen otherwise, then that was your stupidity.”

His smile was grim. “My father was as Irish as you are, but my mother was an Englishwoman. I was given no choice in the matter. Stupidity had little to do with the union between my parents, violence had everything to do with it. The O’Neills consider me as English as the queen. The English think me a savage like my father.”

He spoke flatly, without self-pity or regret. Katherine stared at him, and his meaning hit her, hard. Their situations in life were similar. Like her, he had a useless name, and did not have a powerful family behind him. He survived by facing the truth and weathering any storm that should arise. He was advising her to weather this particular one, now. “So I can only survive now by welcoming you into my bed?” she said bitterly. “After all, I am the perfect victim for a man like you. There is no one to challenge you for aught that you do to me, no one to demand satisfaction when you ruin me. There will be no political storms engendered by your abduction of me, or by your abuse.”

His eyes were bright with undisguised interest now. “An intelligent woman,” he murmured. “Beautiful, headstrong, and intelligent—how very rare.”

Despite herself, Katherine flushed. His words could not
possibly be flattery, even if they sounded like such. The ideal woman was neither headstrong nor clever, but chaste and demure and given to obedience in all matters great and small. But he was smiling at her as if he were most pleased with his discovery. Katherine lifted her chin. “I will not be your victim. I do not believe I am without a single protector in this world. I do not believe that you can do with me as you will and walk away freely from such heinous deeds.”

His jaw flexed and he rose to his towering height. “You are a victim, Katherine. You are a victim of political circumstance.” His stare was hard. “But I did not decide your father’s fate—I did not pronounce his guilt and sentence him accordingly. Do not blame me for your father’s rash actions and the queen’s determination to end his defiance. I did not take away your inheritance, your name, or your station in life.”

“I blame you for
your
rash actions,” she cried scornfully, her fists clenched.

His smile flickered. “I am
never
rash.” He started to walk around the table toward her. Katherine backed up—against the wall. Her pulse rioted as he paused before her. His smile was dangerous. “But you are right about one thing.”

She did not want to know his thoughts, and kept silent.

His gaze slid over her face. “You do have a protector, Katherine, one single protector in all of this world, and that is me.”

She gasped. “But you will not protect me from yourself!”

He chuckled then, the sound rich and amused. “You have misconstrued it all. You do not need to be protected from me. My intention is not to hurt you. My intention is to protect you from the rest of the world, to provide for your needs, to pleasure you. I only wish that you come to me willingly. There is naught else for you to do, Katherine. You have no other choices in this life.” His gaze turned to smoke. “The moment I first saw you, I knew you would become my mistress.”

“No,” Katherine said tightly. “My answer to you is
no! I am not about to become your
mistress!
” It was exceedingly difficult for her to say that horrid word.

“You will change your mind when you have calmed down, when you have had a chance to reconcile yourself to fate and circumstance.”

“I will never change my mind! My father may be a prisoner, but my dreams still live!” And Katherine knew it was true. Nothing could kill her dreams, not even the unkind facts of life, not even this unkind man.

“Your dreams are dead,” he said softly. “Killed by circumstance. Killed by fate.”

“No!” She blinked back hot tears. He stared at her, but she hardly saw him. “Damn the Butlers!” she said bitterly. “Damn the Council—damn the queen!”

 

“Katherine! Sweet Mother of Christ! What has he done to you!” Juliet cried.

The pirate had left her when she began to weep. Exhausted, Katherine had finally subsided into a heap on the bed she had been determined to avoid. She had not been aware of the passage of time, nor of Juliet’s entering the room. Now, as Juliet hugged her, she sat up slowly. Her head ached from the long debate she had waged with the pirate, and from her equally arduous defense against him. She was also exhausted from having spent every moment since he had left her alone analyzing the choices and alternatives left to her. So far, there did not appear to be any of significance.

She returned Juliet’s embrace. “I am fine,” she whispered. It was hardly the truth. “He did not—” Her voice cracked. “He did not take my virtue.”

“Thank God,” Juliet breathed, her look dark with concern. She smoothed curling red hair from Katherine’s face. “Did he…hurt you?”

Katherine hesitated. “Not really.” She was still aghast at her body’s treacherous sensuality, and even now, she could not shake his too-golden image from her mind. “Are you well? Unharmed?” she asked.

Juliet nodded. “The crew has been ordered to stay away from both of us.”

Katherine’s gaze was inquiring.

“I was so afraid, Katherine. But apparently these devils have some souls after all. The bald one, Macgregor, told me the captain does not, generally, allow mayhem or rape, and that we especially need not worry. In fact, the French ship was released. None of the crew, I’m told, were harmed.”

Katherine was contemptuous. “You mean he did not force everyone into the sea? I do not believe it!”

Juliet did not seem to hear. Lines of strain were etched onto her face. “What does he plan for us then? Ransoms?”

Katherine recalled all that Liam O’Neill had said. Her jaw tensed. “Juliet, my father has lost his lands and title and he is a prisoner of the queen.”

Juliet started. “Oh, Katherine!”

Katherine’s face crumbled. “I do not think he lied.” She tried to imagine her powerful father stripped of all he had and reconciled to an inglorious exile. She tried, and failed. Surely her father, her bold and clever father, had a plan for recovering all he had lost. It could not be exactly as the pirate had said. “I fear there will be no ransom for me.”

BOOK: The Game
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