ClaimedbytheCaptain (7 page)

“You did not hurt me,” she choked out the words.

The tremor in her voice struck him like a fist to the gut.
“You were weeping.”

“My tears were not from pain…the pleasure…it was
overwhelming.”

Jason could not restrain his deep satisfaction at her words.
“You are learning to enjoy my touch,” he whispered as he removed her bindings.

“Too much.” Her voice was a tortured sob. “I should not
enjoy the things you do to me.”

He stroked her wrists, soothing, caressing, as he gathered
her against his chest. “Ah yes, I’d forgotten. A respectable woman would rather
die than succumb to the pleasure I could offer her.” His words teased a hint of
a smile to her lips. “You know how I feel about respectable women.”

She sniffled and burrowed against him. This was not a part
of his plans, he reminded himself, enfolding her in his arms. He’d never envisioned
holding Catherine, soothing her with his touch, enchanted by the longing in her
eyes. The softness of her feminine curves molded against him, filling an
utterly unfamiliar need.

Was she his captive, or was she a treasure he’d unwittingly
had the good sense to seize? Her slight trembling betrayed her reaction to his
maleness. She’d been loved thoroughly until she came apart in his arms and now
she quivered with response to his nearness. Would he ever find a woman who
inflamed his senses the way Catherine did? Or must he consider the maddening
possibility he had no choice but to keep her for himself?

Chapter Six

Cathy nestled in her captor’s corded arms. The thick mat of
curly hair on his hard chest tickled her nose as she burrowed against him. His
strength and warmth filled her with a languorous fulfillment. Sated and
gloriously relaxed, she closed her eyes, breathing deeply of the soft, musky
scent that surrounded them, and drifted to sleep.

When she awoke, she was alone. She stared at the ceiling, oddly
bereft at the realization he’d left her in his bed, covered with a sumptuous
quilt. A knock on the door stirred her from the last twilight of sleep. She
pulled the bedclothes around her and sat up in bed as the door opened.

“Good morning, Miss Catherine,” Taylor greeted her with
bland warmth. “I trust you slept well.”

“Very well.” She hoped she wasn’t blushing as his observant
gaze traveled from the bed to her discarded gown on the floor.

“I’ve brought you another dress. This one will be more
appropriate for the morning hours.”

“Please leave it on the bed.”

“As you wish.” His mouth hitched in a faint smile as he laid
the garment on the rumpled quilt. “The captain expects you to join him for
breakfast.”

She reached for the dress. Her gaze swept over the simple
yet lovely empire waist gown. The soft cerulean fabric felt cool and smooth
against her fingertips. She held it to her, tucking it beneath her chin,
picturing it on her body.

“Do you like it?” Taylor asked, sounding hopeful.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Captain Kane selected it for you,” he stated
matter-of-factly.

She blinked at the words. To think that the man who’d
seduced her, who’d abducted her from her home and made her want him beyond any
semblance of sanity, actually saw to it she’d have garments to wear that
pleased her…and him. Maddening to think he exerted such complete control over
her, yet the thought of his complete possession pleased her so.

Taylor turned to leave, but her soft call stopped him. “Why
does he hate my father?”

He spun on his heel, his expression betraying his
hesitation. Seeming to consider his words carefully, he answered her. “The
captain’s father took his own life after he lost his fortune to a most careful
and shrewd thief.”

Cathy felt as if he’d struck her. Her breath hovered in her
throat. “My father was responsible?”

Taylor’s mouth flattened into a thin line. He nodded grimly.
“Edwin Farrell lured Nathaniel Kane and several other investors into a devious
business scheme that was nothing more than a ruse to part wealthy men from
their fortunes. The captain’s father lost everything. The shame of leaving his
family destitute was too much for him to bear.”

The breath rushed from her lungs. “I had no idea.” She
lowered her gaze. Could Taylor sense the uncertainty in her words?

“I’m sure you did not, Miss Catherine. How could you have
known? You would have been a very young child at the time.”

Images of her luxurious silk gowns and expensive jewels
flashed through her thoughts. She hugged her arms to her chest, feeling
suddenly as though she’d lose the contents of her stomach. Her father had made
no secret of his quest to marry her off to a man who’d enrich his accounts.
He’d happily exchange her happiness for more gold in his purse. Could she doubt
a man with her father’s greed and lavish tastes would connive and scheme to
cheat his business partners? Her father indulged his extravagant tastes and
penchant for gambling and women with the fortunes he’d stolen from other men’s
families. The bitter taste of bile flooded her mouth.

“It is no wonder he despises me.”

Taylor steepled his fingers and appeared to be deep in
thought for a few moments. Peering over his hands, he fixed her with kind eyes
as he spoke. “He does not hate you. I believe it’s quite the opposite.” The
smile returned to his features. “Now dress for your morning meal, Miss
Catherine. The captain will be expecting you to join him.”

With that, he departed the cabin.
Quite the opposite.
She repeated the phrase in her thoughts several times, assuring herself she’d
heard correctly. Taylor had clearly allowed his admiration for Captain Kane to
color his opinion of the man’s actions. She supposed it was far more palatable
for the quartermaster to believe the captain’s conquest an act of love rather
than the pure and simple lust he’d sated on her responsive body. It was
inconceivable that Jason Kane might develop feelings for her. She was his
captive, a trophy of sorts, nothing more than a prize to be mastered. He cared
nothing for her.

If only she could say the same.

* * * * *

Cathy faced Jason across the table, silently praying for
some trace of emotion to flicker over his impassive features. Had the passion
they’d shared the night before made no mark on his soul? The craving for his
touch burned within her, yet he didn’t even look at her. He focused his
attention on the plate of food before him as he devoured his breakfast with
vigor.

She took a bite, chewing slowly, struggling to choke it
down. How could she eat when she still quaked with shivers of remembrance, his
touch so vividly imprinted on her body, he might have branded her? Her heart
was breaking and there was nothing she could do about it. Unable to bear the
silence any longer, she spoke up. “Why did you request my presence this
morning?”

Jason quirked a dark brow. “You’ve barely touched your food.
What is troubling you?”

“Nothing,” she lied unconvincingly. “I simply wondered why
you wanted me here…with you.”

His eyes turned to ebony, though his voice revealed no hint
of his thoughts. “Come on deck with me.”

He took her hand within his own, his features void of
feeling save for the foreboding darkness in his eyes.

“Should I plan to throw myself overboard?”

His gaze narrowed as he seemed to consider her light taunt.
She thought she detected a hint of a smile at the corners of that dangerous
mouth.

“Is that what a respectable lady would do? Do you yearn to
be respectable, Catherine?”

He caressed her name with his low growl just as he’d
caressed her flesh with his touch. She shivered as the low note of desire in
his tone brought tiny tremors of response that made the hairs on the back of
her neck stand up.

She forced herself to ignore the sensations he’d ignited
within her, but Jason Kane would not be so easily deterred. Leaning toward her,
he brushed her fingers with his lips. He smelled of shaving soap and the sea,
and it was all she could do not to throw her arms around his neck and press her
body close to his.

“I fear you’ve ruined me, sir,” she whispered with defiance.

“Never, love. You are ripened to perfection.” He entwined
her arm with his own. “Come with me. The ocean mist and the warmth of the sun
will stir your senses.”

The heat of his breath against her nape weakened any
resistance she might have shown. Slanting him a glance, she cursed her own
weakness. If only she hated him, she might have a chance of surviving this
torment. If she dreamed of a time when she was no longer his prisoner, a time
when she would resume the quiet life she’d led as a merchant’s daughter, she
could endure this.

But one look from him and she would willingly submit to his
every desire. She doubted even he realized how complete his conquest had been.

It wasn’t possible she’d fallen in love with him. She
forbade herself to even consider the idea. No, his hold on her was physical.
He’d lured her body into responses she’d never believed possible, and now, like
a drunkard who craves wine above all else, she longed for him. At any cost.

Jason placed his hand on the small of her back, watching
Cathy beneath hooded lids. Her eyes widened in unabashed wonder as she took in
the sight and smell of the open sea. Her delight reminded him of a time when
he’d seen sailing the ocean as something more than a means to an end, more than
a strategy to regain the fortune his father had foolishly risked and lost. Nathaniel
Kane had trusted a man without scruples to conduct himself with honor. And in
the process, he’d destroyed his family.

The memory gripped his belly, tensing into a great knot. He
could forgive his father for falling prey to Farrell’s duplicitous scheme.
Fortunes lost could be regained. But he’d never forgive the man for putting a
pistol to his temple six months later. His father’s death and the whispered
disgrace that surrounded it proved too much for his mother to bear, and soon,
she followed her husband to the grave.

Two months past his sixteenth birthday, he’d traded his
studies at William and Mary for the life of a seamen’s apprentice on a merchant
ship. In the span of a year, Jason had lost everyone and everything he’d ever
loved. His parents, his legacy, his education.

Nathaniel Kane’s weakness taught his son a valuable lesson.
Jason had been cheated of his youth, but in exchange, he’d grown strong,
toughened by more than a decade at sea. The ruthless edge he acquired along the
way had served him well. Until now.

Gazing down at Cathy, he couldn’t stifle the smile on his
lips.
Ruthless…bah!
He’d intended to be merciless with his prisoner, but
she’d refused to be cowed. He’d stripped her bare and aroused her past the
point of surrender, but the unbridled passion of her response disarmed him. He
longed for the welcome in her eyes, hungered for her moans of satisfaction. And
yet she carried herself with an innate dignity that only tantalized him
further, kindling a need for her that went far deeper than the primal cravings
of his flesh.

She met his eyes. Pressing her mouth into a tight bow, she
swept an errant lock of hair from her forehead. “
Virginia’s Avenger
seems an unusual name for a vessel. What inspired such a name?”

“Such curiosity,” he replied. “How do you know the name of
this ship?”

“I believe your quartermaster mentioned it.”

He nodded, rubbing his hand over his jaw. “It seems you’ve
charmed Taylor. Perhaps more than is wise for me to allow.”

Cathy stiffened at the implied threat in his statement. “I
didn’t mean to call Taylor’s loyalty into question,” she fumbled over her
words. “He has been a perfect gentleman in my presence.”

He slanted her a glance. She seemed far more concerned about
the quartermaster than herself. For some unfathomable reason, her selfless
concern for his assistant pleased him.

“I do not doubt that Taylor has acted with decorum. I’ve
trusted him implicitly for many years.”

Jason suppressed a smile as she visibly relaxed. As the cool
breeze from the Atlantic fanned strands of her dark ginger hair against her
cheeks, the unfettered happiness that lit her flawless face stirred a yearning
deep within. She was so vibrant, so alive, uncaring that the wind blew her
tresses wildly about and sea spray dotted her creamy skin. She’d come alive
under the sun’s rays. Her joyous laughter as water splashed over the rail onto
her skirt conjured a stab of regret through his gut. There was no room in his
heart for an emotion as frivolous as joy.

“Have you grown fond of Taylor?” he asked, anticipating the
flush he knew would accompany her reaction to his words.

She turned to him, the unspoken plea in the set of her mouth
unmistakable. “Not overly so.” Her steady voice did not disguise the uneasiness
in her tone. “As I told you, he’s been a perfect gentleman.”

“Do you prefer that to my touch?”

Her cheeks burned crimson beneath his gaze. A rush of heat
coursed to his groin as her tongue absently traced a path along the contours of
her full mouth. Her gaze darted from his.

“He has treated me with the utmost respect.”

“He has treated you like a lady. I have treated you like a
woman.”

Her back stiffened and she met his words with fearless eyes,
her quiet voice laced with bitterness. “You have treated me as a wanton woman,
sir.”

“I have brought you pleasure. You’ve wanted every touch,
every sensation,” he reminded ruthlessly.

“But at what price?”

He gripped her shoulders without violence, searching her
face. She would never absolve him for his sins against her. He enfolded her in
his arms without speaking. Desiring her warmth. Craving her softness.
This
is madness.
She would not move him with tears or feminine trickery. He
didn’t give a damn if she hated him. She was his to pleasure, his to master.
Nothing more.