Blue Velvet (18 page)

Her clear blue eyes were wondering. “I hope you know what you’re talking about, for I certainly don’t.”

“I know you don’t,” he sighed. “I sound like a first-class passenger on the Disorient Express.” He put her hand down and patted it. “Forget it for now. We’ll talk about it in the morning. I shouldn’t have said anything to upset you. I’ve probably given you more of a headache than you had already.”

“You didn’t upset me.” He’d confused her, touched her, filled her with hope. “And I don’t have a headache. I want to talk right now.”

“No,” he said firmly. “Go to sleep.” Suddenly his eyes flickered gold with mischief. “Would you like me to sing you a lullaby?”

“Would you?” she asked, intrigued.

“Only if I was feeling particularly sadistic. Unfortunately, I can’t carry a tune and I’ve been accused of sounding like a howling bloodhound on the trail. No, upon weighty consideration I think
it would be far more relaxing if I told you a bedtime story. Would you like that, little girl?”

“Yes, I think I would.” She couldn’t remember anyone ever taking the time to perform that cozy little ritual. She settled back more comfortably against the pillows and gazed up at him eagerly. “What story are you going to tell me, Beau?”

“Well, I was considering
Dr. Zhivago
, but that’s a little heavy going for a soporific.” He tucked the sheet more firmly under her chin. “So I think we’ll go for
Gone With the Wind
. Okay, sugar?”

He was so beautiful. His smile was that warm lopsided grin that tugged at her heart and his eyes … “
Gone With the Wind
sounds fine.”

“It’s just as well that I start inundating you with the glory of the South anyway. Now let’s see, where shall I start? Once upon a time there was a magnificent plantation called Tara and living within its stately portals was a lovely Southern belle whose name was Scarlett O’Hara—”

“But who was Ashley Wilkes?” she interrupted.

“Hush, I’m coming to that. He’s not the hero anyway.”

“He’s the wimp, right?”

“Right. Now Scarlett was a very spoiled, strong-willed lady who had a yen for our boy Wilkes, who was equally hung up on his cousin Melanie …”

The knock on the cabin door was soft and unobtrusive but it aroused her immediately. She sat bolt upright in bed and then snatched the sheet that had fallen to her waist and hugged it to her chin. She glanced instinctively at the smooth unrumpled pillow next to her own. She hadn’t really expected to see Beau’s bronze head there. She had a vague memory of drifting off to sleep some time after the burning of Atlanta. She’d been conscious of Beau once again tucking the covers around her, then lips as soft as orchid petals brushing her forehead. It had all been so lovely—Beau’s half-cynical rendering of his tale of the Southland, the rich low murmur of his drawl, watching the vivid flickering expressions on his lean mobile face. Lovely.

The knock was repeated a little more insistently this time. Beau wouldn’t knock, he’d
stride in with that royal air of dominance she’d become so accustomed to. She’d been drowsily aware of him coming in several times during the night to check on her as he’d said he would do. “Come in.”

Jim, the seaman who’d carried the first-aid kit down to the cabin the night before, had a different burden this morning. He bustled briskly into the cabin carrying a round metal tray with a napkin draped over its contents. “Good morning, Miss Gilbert. I’ve brought you a bite of breakfast. Mr. Lantry says you’re to eat everything on the tray.” He set the tray carefully down on the bedside table. “He’d like you to join him and Captain Seifert on the deck as soon as it’s convenient. The clothes you were wearing last night have been freshly laundered. I’ll bring them right down.” He grinned. “I didn’t want to chance juggling them with that tray of food. I’m not known for being particularly dexterous. I’d probably end up by having to wash them again.”

“I appreciate your laundering them the first time, Jim,” she said with an answering smile. “You didn’t have to. I could have done it myself. I’m not used to being waited on.”

“No trouble,” he said breezily as he turned and strode back to the door. “You did us quite a favor springing us from the inn last night. Turnabout is fair play, as they say.”

As the door closed behind him, she swung her feet to the floor and wrapped the sheet more tightly around her, tucking the folds beneath her arms. Some favor, she thought wryly as she removed the red-checked napkin covering the tray. They were just lucky that no one had been really hurt on deck last night. She had meant well, but perhaps Beau was right about her impulsiveness. Well, she wasn’t going to waste her time in gloomy retrospection when the sun was shining so brightly through the porthole and Beau was waiting for her on deck. She’d savor every moment to the fullest as she’d always done.

And she’d start with this breakfast of bacon and eggs and homemade biscuits that were light as a feather and absolutely heavenly. It seemed that she hadn’t eaten in a century or so and it was no chore at all to obey Beau’s instructions to eat every bite. Come to think of it, she
hadn’t
eaten much in the last few days. She’d had breakfast on the
Searcher
day before yesterday
and a little stew at Consuello’s cottage before they’d started for Mariba.

Beau couldn’t have eaten very much either and he must have appreciated his breakfast as much as she was appreciating hers now. What did he like to eat? she wondered curiously. There were so many things they had yet to learn about each other. The intimacy bred by danger and their explosive physical union had brought them so close it seemed amazing she didn’t know the little mundane things about Beau. Well, they’d have time to learn all the things they needed to know now. She couldn’t hope that Beau’s passion for her would last forever, but from what he’d said last night, he did feel something for her other than desire. Perhaps if she worked very hard and developed the sophistication and poise he was accustomed to in his women he’d begin to feel a little of the love that was beginning to possess every atom of her being.

Forty-five minutes later she gave her glossy curls a last pat and tucked the soft white cotton shirt more firmly into her jeans. She made a face at the reflection in the bathroom mirror. Spick and span she definitely was, but sadly lacking
in romance or glamour. Much more cousin Melanie than Beau’s Scarlett O’Hara.

Still, when she reached the upper deck and saw Beau leaning indolently against the rail idly talking with Daniel, she didn’t feel like sweet wholesome Melanie. She felt as hopelessly romantic and lovesick as any Juliet, Héloise, or Guinevere.

Beau must have changed sometime during the night, for he was wearing close-fitting pale beige jeans. His chocolate brown shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbow made his bronze hair shine even more in contrast. His eyes were more dark hazel than gold today though and there were dark circles beneath them. Hadn’t he slept at all?

He frowned disapprovingly as she came toward them. “You’ve taken off your bandage.”

“It got wet in the shower.” So much for her spick-and-span allure. All he’d noticed was the lack of that dratted bandage. “I didn’t need it anyway. The cut will be better without it.” She breathed deeply of the clean salt air. “No self-respecting wound would dare not heal in surroundings like this. Cobalt sea, sapphire sky, and the sunlight …” She trailed off searching for a phrase that would describe the sparkling iridescence
that was singing through her. “It must have been a morning like this when Noah realized the earth was reborn and sent out his dove.”

The frown on Beau’s face was superseded by amusement. “First she compares you to Charon and now Noah, Daniel. When she gets to Methuselah you’d better think seriously about shaving off your beard. Evidently it’s not projecting the kind of virile image a stud like you would like to present to the world.”

Daniel didn’t appear equally amused. “Playing ferryman to a bunch of lovesick animals sounds a hell of a lot more appealing than what you had in mind for me,” he said with a scowl. “It wouldn’t even be legal, damn it. It takes all sorts of special seaman’s papers to be qualified for a job like that.”

“Then we’ll have to move on to plan two,” Beau said grimly. “It’s got to be legal. If we get someone on board with the right papers and it takes place in American waters …”

Kate was looking from one to the other in bewilderment. “What’s this all about? I must have missed something along the way.”

“Yes, Beau, tell her what it’s all about,” Daniel
said silkily. “After all, it does concern her. In a minor way of course.”

“Shut up, Daniel,” Beau growled. “You’re not making this any easier.” His expression was grave as he turned back to Kate. “We have a small problem. Last night when I came back up on deck to talk to Daniel I had to make a decision about where we were going.”

“Yes?”

“I made it. We’re about a half-day’s journey from our destination now.”

“And that is?” she asked, puzzled.

“Santa Isabella.” He paused. “First.”

“First?”

“Then we’re going to continue on to Norfolk, Virginia.”

“Virginia!” she echoed. “But that’s the United States. Immigration will never let me in without a passport.”

“I decided I was tired of batting around the Caribbean. I want to go home,” he said quietly. “And you’re coming with me just as you agreed.”

“But I can’t without a—”

“We’ll get you a passport, but it may take time
to track down your papers. That’s why we’re stopping off at Santa Isabella. We need to get all the information out of Brenden we can regarding your birth and the possible whereabouts of your mother. In the meantime I’m not willing to sail around aimlessly like the
Flying Dutchman
waiting for the lawyers to come up with something.”

“Then you’ll obviously have to go without me,” she said, trying to smile.

“The hell I will,” he said softly. “Not when there’s a way that I can have it all. Daniel can fix it.”

“Fix it?”

“Right now we’re anchored a mile or so off the coast of Lanique, a U.S. possession. That means we’re in American waters. Since Daniel isn’t qualified to do the job himself he’s going to go ashore, find a justice of the peace or some other official and bring him on board the
Searcher.
” He took a deep breath. “To marry us.”

“Marry?”

“Marry,” he repeated, a trifle nettled. “You obviously view it with very little enthusiasm.”

“A very intelligent lady,” Daniel said promptly. “Let’s forget you ever had this latest attack of insanity, Beau.” He made a face. “If it ever got back to Sedikhan I’d played Cupid for love’s young dream, it would totally ruin my reputation.”

“We’re
not
going to forget it,” Beau said grimly. “We’re going to be married today. Once we’re ashore we’d have all sorts of problems tying the knot without papers for Kate. The minute we’re married, she’s automatically an American citizen and has the protection of both the Lantry name and the Lantry conglomerate. We’ll still have trouble with Immigration but it should simplify the whole process enormously.”

“That’s a pretty drastic solution,” Kate said dazedly. “Isn’t there any other way around it?”

Daniel opened his lips to speak, but Beau gave him a quelling glance and said quickly, “There’s no other way. You made me a promise and this is the only way you can keep it.” His lips twisted. “You needn’t be so apprehensive. Even conventional marriages seldom last more than a few years these days. It’s not as if it has to be forever.”

No, it wouldn’t be forever, she thought dully. It would only be a convenience in order that Beau could have her at his disposal for as long as it suited him. She mustn’t let those words hurt so much.

“I know that,” she said quietly. “I was just thinking that in time you may consider it to be more trouble than it’s worth.”

“I rarely regret any decision I make, regardless of the consequences,” he said with a curiously bittersweet smile. “I’ll consider it worth it, Kate. You’ll do it, then?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Very docile,” he said mockingly. “Is our Kate so tame now?”

“I don’t think I’m particularly meek,” she said, meeting his eyes steadily. “I just believe in keeping my word.”

“And so do I,” he said, his expression softening. “Remember that, Kate. So do I.”

His mood was changing from moment to moment with lightning rapidity, she thought dazedly. What did he actually want from her? She’d agreed to what he’d said he wanted, but she was still aware of the current of leashed
restlessness and discontent behind that mocking façade.

“Hop to it, Daniel,” Beau said. “I want to get it over with as soon as possible.” He shrugged. “We’ll be married in your cabin. It’s as good a place as any.”

“No!” Kate said. She’d never thought much about weddings, certainly not her own wedding, but she was experiencing an odd repugnance at the idea of a hurried ceremony rattled off in the confines of Daniel’s cabin. The vows they were going to speak may not have any importance to Beau, but they did to her and she wanted to be surrounded by beauty when she said them. “Up here on deck, in the sunlight.”

There was a flicker of understanding and tenderness in Beau’s eyes. “Why not? Then we can have the entire crew as witnesses. We’re going to need all the documentation we can scrounge together.”

“I’m on my way,” Daniel said, turning away. “I’ll have to go down to my cabin first and get my captain’s papers and the credentials Clancy provided to prove how respectable I am these days. A justice of the peace isn’t precisely the
type of official I’m accustomed to using my powers of persuasion on.”

Kate took a step forward and placed an impulsive hand on his arm. “You don’t really mind, do you, Daniel?”

Daniel’s impatient gaze traveled from her hand on his arm to her troubled face. “You bet your sweet …” He stopped abruptly as he met her eyes. He was silent a long moment before he smiled with surprising gentleness. “I’ll live through it.” He patted her hand. “I’ll not only be best man, I’ll even make the supreme sacrifice for the occasion.”

“What’s that?”