Island Flame (10 page)

She could just make out his hard mouth as it curved in a smile.

“Even more than that, little innocent, if I have anything to say about it,” he said in her ear, putting his lips against the soft skin of her neck and slowly stroking it with his tongue. Cathy shivered. She knew now what he
was leading up to, and she didn’t think she could bear it again so soon. But she had no choice. She was his prisoner, and he could rape her until she died if he wanted to. There was no one to stop him.

Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks at the thought, and she pulled away a little. He caught her around her thighs to bring her back to him. As his hand closed around the tender flesh Cathy whimpered painfully.

“Damn!” Jon muttered, pushing her away. The next instant he was on his feet beside the bunk, lighting the candle.

Cathy stared up at him wide-eyed as he turned back to her. Was he angry at her for her resistance? Surely he didn’t expect her just to melt in his arms!

“Turn over,” he ordered harshly.

Cathy’s mouth went suddenly dry. He was going to beat her again. Oh, God, please no! Her skin was swollen from his earlier blows, and this time would be even worse.

“I—I—please don’t hit me,” she whispered brokenly, making no move to obey him. Jon caught his breath sharply as he saw the tears coursing down her cheeks.

“I won’t hurt you,” he promised tightly, rolling her over despite her slight effort at resistance. Cathy shuddered as she felt him lift the skirt of her wrapper, but lay submissively still as he examined her. He was too strong to fight, far stronger than she was, and she was too tired! She would just have to endure whatever he meted out to her. It couldn’t be worse than what he had done to her already!

Jon stared down at the soft curves he had so sickeningly bruised and despised himself. No matter what she had done to provoke him, she had not deserved this! The ivory flesh of her bottom and upper thighs was hot and
red, punctuated with rapidly darkening yellow marks. It must hurt like the very devil! He turned abruptly away to rummage in a sea chest, then stood up seconds later with a first-aid kit in his hands. He felt like the biggest rogue unhung, as he sat down beside her on the bed. She neither moved nor whimpered as he began to smooth a healing lotion into her burning flesh.

His long fingers stroked the cream into her skin. Cathy tried not to flinch from the intimacy of his touch. His hands on her were worse than the pain, she thought dully. That
she,
willful, pampered, accustomed to every care and luxury, should be brought so low was unbelievable. Yet it was happening.

“Is that better?” he asked softly after a few minutes. Cathy wanted to scream at him, but it was too much effort. She nodded listlessly.

“You bruise easily,” he continued in a faintly accusing tone, as though the marks on her were somehow her fault. Cathy made no reply. After a moment he said brusquely, “I suppose you think that if you sulk long enough, I’ll apologize.”

Apologize! Cathy quelled an insane desire to giggle. He actually thought that three little words would make it all right for her again. Still, she thought, it would be something. The first step on the road to humbling that proud black head!

“Don’t worry. I know better than to expect anything like that from you,” she managed bitterly, then shivered as she heard the sharp sound of his jaw as it snapped shut.

Jon saw her shudder and cursed himself. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, God knew! But she’d been enough to try the patience of a saint, much less someone as hot tempered
as himself. Anyway, how was he to know she’d bruise so easily? He blew out the candle slowly and got back into bed, lying on his back and making no attempt to touch her.

“All right, I’m sorry,” he said stiffly after long moments.

The remark out of the blue surprised Cathy. She hadn’t really expected him to apologize. Was there anyway she could turn his remorse to her advantage? Perhaps if she pretended to forgive him.…

“W-what?” she asked cautiously.

“Damn it, I said I’m sorry.” The words were ground out through gritted teeth. Cathy almost smiled. It was obvious that the admission was difficult for him. If she could actually wring an apology from him, it might be just a matter of time until she had him right where she wanted him: groveling at
her
feet. Not that that would satisfy her. Nothing would, until she saw him dead!

“You asked for everything you got, you know,” he said as if he had to justify his actions.

“I asked for it?” Cathy gasped, forgetting her plan to be sweetly forgiving. “How can you say that? I certainly never asked you to rape me!”

“It wasn’t rape, and you know it as well as I do,” Jon said roughly, raising himself on one elbow and leaning over to peer at her face.

“Not rape!”

“You wanted it, too. Where I come from, if the lady’s willing, there’s no question of rape.”

“Willing! I was certainly not willing! You forced me! I had no choice!”

“I admit I would have forced you if I’d had to. As it happened, I didn’t. From the first time I kissed you, back on the
Anna Greer
, I knew you were mine for the taking.
You’re a very passionate woman, sweet, or at least you will be when you learn a little more of what it’s all about!”

“You beast!” Cathy shrieked, sitting bolt upright in the bed as his words flicked a raw spot. “I hated everything you did to me! I hate you to touch me! I hate you, period! You raped me, you filthy cad, and now you’re trying to soothe your conscience by saying that I wanted it!”

“Didn’t you?” he murmured provocatively.

“No!” Cathy was outraged.

“Shall I prove otherwise?” he asked, voice soft as one hard arm snaked around her waist to pull her back into the bed.

“But you—you can’t! You apologized! How can you want to do the same thing again when you’re sorry for the first time?”

“You misunderstood me, sweet. I apologized for spanking you, richly though you deserved it. I never regretted taking what you were dying to give me.”

“You let me go, you lying swine!” Cathy railed. “Can’t you get it through your conceited head that I despise you? I said let me go!” Her voice grew shrill as he dragged her against him.

“Don’t be frightened, sweet. I told you that the next time would be better. This won’t hurt you at all, if you’ll just relax and let me.…” His voice trailed off as he buried his mouth in the soft, rose-scented valley between her breasts.

“I’ll never let you do anything!” Cathy got out in a strangled whisper, pulling fiercely at his black hair. “Anything you want from me, you’ll have to take! You’ll have to rape me again and again and again, and still I won’t give in! I hate you, I tell you, and I’ll die before I submit to you!”

“I doubt it, my girl. Not unless you plan to do it mighty fast.”

These words were murmured against the curve of her breast as Jon reached up to secure her hands. Cathy wriggled and squirmed as he leisurely suckled at first one taut peak and then the other. Strange yearnings shivered through her body at the touch of his hard mouth, but Cathy fought the tentative urge to surrender. This time, she knew what he was leading up to. She had experienced the knifelike pain that had felt as if it would split her in two. Oh, God, she couldn’t take it again! She couldn’t.…

He was lying on his side facing her, careful not to turn her onto her sore back, holding her clamped tightly to his muscular body. With one hand he stripped her wrapper from her. When she was as naked as he, his arm snaked out, catching her leg and hoisting it high around his waist. Cathy struggled frantically, horrified at this fresh indignity, but to no avail. Cathy wanted to scream, to cry, to plead with him to spare her this new torture, but his mouth was on hers, stifling her cries, suffocating her. She felt his hardness probe between her legs, and tensed for the pain she was sure must follow. To her surprise, she felt none, only a hot, sweet fullness as he slid inside her. She gasped at the strange sensation, but not from pain. It felt good.…

“I told you the next time would be better,” he murmured smugly into her ear. Cathy longed for the familiar surging rage to flood her veins. Instead she felt a melting weakness as he moved gently inside her. She moaned at the unexpected pleasure, her arms coming up to twine around his neck of their own volition.

“Ahhh, Cathy,” she vaguely heard him groan through
the mists she was lost in, but she was too caught up in her own response to spare a thought for his.

His thrusts were carrying her away on a spinning cloud, and she was too weak to fight them. All she wanted was to get closer, closer, closer to that hard, warm body. She began to move with him, her untrained body writhing seductively against his. He moved faster and harder, groaning, and Cathy clasped him to her as though she would never let him go. Then with one final deep thrust it was over. Cathy was brought resentfully back to reality to find him sprawled beside her, one hand cupping her breast and his breathing ragged in her ear. She moved her leg experimentally over his. That couldn’t be all! She had felt on the verge of something—something momentous! What had happened?

“Jon?” she murmured tentatively.

“So I’m Jon, now, am I? I thought you hated and despised me?” She could just make out the mocking curve of his mouth. “Ah, well, just goes to show how fickle is woman.”

“Oh, you.…” Cathy gasped, flouncing away and turning her back to him. He had succeeded in shaming her again. But just you wait, she thought, steaming. Just you wait, my fierce pirate captain. You’ll get your comeuppance, and before long.

Just as she finished the thought, Jon’s arms came around her, pulling her back against him so that she was cradled by his warm body. Her head ended up nestled cozily on his arm.

“Go to sleep, vixen,” he whispered, dropping a light kiss on her tumbled hair. She thought she saw the bright gleam of his teeth as he added softly, “While you have the chance.”

Four

J
on awoke the next morning feeling more alive than he had in months. He stretched, yawning, and the movement brought him up against the soft body huddled in a little ball on the far side of the bunk. Even in sleep, he thought wryly, she stayed as far away from him as she could get. But he’d change all that, he promised himself. The day would come when she’d want his body as badly as he wanted hers. And he wanted hers pretty damned badly, he had to admit. Even now, knowing that the sea and his ship were waiting for him, he had to exercise extreme control not to roll her over onto her pretty little backside and pump out his lust between her legs. Jon grinned. He must be getting old. He’d always heard that as men approached middle age they got yearnings for girls young enough to be their daughters. But if what he felt was typical of middle age, then let it come. So far, it was fantastic!

His hand moved beneath the bedding, but Jon drew it back before it reached its goal. Enough of that! He had a ship to sail. The men would be thinking he’d gone soft, lazing in bed until the sun was high up. It was the first time he’d slept past dawn since he had first put to sea as a boy of sixteen. At the thought he frowned a little. Women had been the downfall of many a man. He’d have to watch out, so that the fascination the little she-cat’s body held for him didn’t get out of hand. Not that it was
likely, he assured himself. He had bedded many women, most of them lovely and all of them far more experienced in pleasing a man than the child beside him. If he was gentler with her than the others, well, it was because she was younger and more tender. The unprecedented guilt he had felt after bruising her delectable flesh was only natural. After all, it might interfere with his enjoyment, which was what the game was all about! Just let him get to Cadiz, where a certain merry widow waited, and he’d get the little shrew out of his system once and for all. Like too much whiskey, the cure for intense sexual attraction was hair of the dog. And any dog would do.

A knock sounded discreetly at the cabin door. Jon bounded out of the bunk. The last thing he wanted was to be caught day-dreaming on his back like some lovesick child. He stepped hurriedly into his breeches, doing up the buttons and shrugging into his shirt before calling brusquely, “What is it?”

The door opened a couple of inches and Harry poked his head through. His eyes widened at the sight of Jon, frowning and tousle-haired and obviously just out of bed. At Harry’s bemused expression, Jon’s scowl deepened.

“Well?” he barked.

“Sorry, Cap’n,” Harry said hastily, barely repressing a grin. “The crew was getting worried about you. Some of them heard all the ruckus in here last night, and … uh … well, they thought she might have killed you. When you didn’t come on deck this morning, sir.”

“Very funny,” Jon said sourly. “You can tell whoever’s interested that I’m still breathing. And if you don’t wipe that damned silly smirk off your face, you soon may not be.”

“Yes, sir, Captain, sir!” Harry was grinning openly as
he started to withdraw. Then he paused. “Oh, uh, by the way, Cap’n, that’s one hell of a shiner!”

“Get out!” roared Jon. Harry beat a hasty retreat.