The Captain's Caress Page 3

  He was the most magnificent creature she’d ever seen. Sapphire blue eyes stared at her from under thick brows bleached as blond as his hair by sun and salt. Every detail of his proud profile had been chiseled with infinite care, but none more so than his broad, tapering nose or his parted, sensual lips. And not even his elaborate finery could disguise the powerful chest and bulging muscles that made his body a work of art.

  A surge of energy coursed through Summer’s body, and she moved toward him with a sinuous grace that made every man present aware of the months he had been without a woman.

  A path opened before her. Even Brinklow, loudly blaming Bridgit for his mistress’s shocking behavior, let her pass unhindered. Summer lowered her eyes, not sure whether she did so from fear or embarrassment. For a moment, only the muted fall of her footsteps broke the silence; then she became aware of the sound of ragged breathing. It reminded her so strongly of the utter exhaustion that follows the performance of a backbreaking task that she directed a questioning glance toward Brent. What she saw nearly rocked her off her feet.

  Fury, incandescent in its intensity, burned in those hard blue eyes, a fury so hot she could feel it scorch her skin. She tried to draw back, but she couldn’t. Riveted by his gaze, she was impelled to draw nearer to him. His look contained nothing of admiration or curiosity; his scrutiny mercilessly appraised her as if she Were an object to be bought and haggled over. She felt his eyes strip her naked, and then burrow deep into her soul.

  Chilling fear shook her, and she lost all desire to meet this frightening man. She wanted to run, to hide behind Bridgit or anyone who would deflect the searing gaze of those uncompromising eyes.

  “I hope we haven’t inconvenienced you, Countess.” His harsh voice easily reached everyone on deck. “I was eager to meet the woman who would sell herself to Gowan for his money and title, but I never expected to find her a girl young enough to be his daughter.” She shrank under the blast of his withering contempt, but he reached out and pulled her closer to him. “Don’t be so quick to draw away. If you can endure Gowan’s company day after day, you should be able to tolerate mine for a few minutes.”

  “Please let me go. You’re hurting me.” The lash of his scorn tore at her courage like a rasp at soft wood.

  “Not until I have a good look at you.”

  “It is an outrage that this madman should be allowed to attack your passengers,” Brinklow shouted at Bonner as he scrambled past open-mouthed crewmen to reach Summer’s side. “If you don’t put an end to this monstrous affront to a noble family’s honor, I shall see that you lose your ship, and that all of you"—his waving arms encompassed the crews of both ships—"rot in the bowels of Newgate.” He opened his mouth to say more, but surprised everyone by crumpling to the deck with a dull thud.

  “His voice grates on my nerves,” Smith explained, calmly wiping the butt of his pistol.

  Summer looked from one man to another. Horror-stricken, she knew there was no hope of deliverance.

  “Please let my mistress go,” Bridgit begged, pushing in between Summer and Brent. “Your rough and angry ways are frightening her.” But Brent’s grip did not loosen.

  “I’d have thought she had enough courage to face a dozen men like me,” he sneered. “It must take nerves of iron to live with a man like Gowan.”

  “Sir, you’re insulting,” expostulated Bridgit.

  “But then I have found that greed can assume many guises, even wide-eyed innocence.” Brent let his gaze rest on the soft curves of Summer’s body, the swell of her creamy breasts, and he felt a surge of desire flare through him. Unaccountably, that only infuriated him all the more.

  Summer’s own anger flamed rapidly now and it consumed her fear. Who was he, this arrogant young outlaw, to demand that she leave the safety of her cabin to be openly insulted like some nameless jade! She faced him with a proud tilt of her chin.

  “Sir, I do not know what I have done to offend you so greatly, nor can I fathom why you should publicly abuse me in this cruel manner. Furthermore, I cannot accept such an unflattering reading of my husband’s character from a man who is himself wholely lacking in honor or integrity.”

  Brent’s face grew more threatening with her every word, and his crew fidgeted nervously. Summer, too, felt her surge of fury waver before his sulfurous gaze, but she pressed bravely on.

  “Now that you have seen me, I desire to return to my cabin. I find your company distasteful.”

  “You act the role well,” jeered Brent, “but a woman who sells her virtue, even in marriage, is no better than a harlot.” Brent ignored the murmured protest from his crew. “Indeed, I have more respect for a prostitute who plies her trade honestly, than a woman who hides behind a coronet.”

  Summer went white under the lash of his scorn, but she refused to lend credence to his staggering accusations by running away. “You cur!” she cried, striking at him.

  “So milady doesn’t like to hear the truth?” Brent said, easily catching her wrists.

  “How dare you speak to me of truth when you have made no attempt to discover it,” she raged, struggling to hold back tears of anger and mortification. “I’d never sell myself to anybody, most particularly for money and a title.” But the words rang false in her ears. Her father had sold her and she was sure this terrifying young man would admit no distinction between force and willing compliance.

  “I’m not impressed by outraged virtue, nor will I let you hide behind the shield of your rank and sex. I’ve known your husband all my life, and no decent female would marry him.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Summer protested, her dismay at the picture he painted of the earl greater than her anger at his slander of herself. His harsh laughter only intensified her disquiet.

  “Either you’re a blind fool, or you’re afraid to admit to yourself what Gowan is really like. He’s a viper! There’s nothing too low for him, not stealing from his best friend or murdering an old drunk and blaming it on an unsuspecting boy. He has wealth, but he stole it; he has power and influence, but he bought it.”

  “Stop!” Summer begged, but Brent drew her closer.

  “How can you allow such a villain to enter your bed, take you in his arms, and make love to you?”

  “Don’t!” she sobbed.

  “Only a wanton could swear to love, honor, and obey that devil’s spawn.”

  Brent’s concentration narrowed until he thought only of Summer and his hatred for Gowan. Long-simmering enmity and burgeoning desire fanned the coals of his rancor until it became a raging inferno that threatened to consume him. It erupted in an unreasoning tidal wave of abuse.

  “Your precious husband is an outcast from society, a slave to greed, and a master of deceit.”

  Summer raised her hands to ward off the scalding torrent of words, but they kept coming, battering her until she could stand no more.

  “His tenants curse his name, and his neighbors shun his company. He is a byword little boys shout at their enemies, a specter parents use to frighten naughty children.”

  At last Brent paused, nearly spent by the force of his own emotion, but Summer had already fainted.

  “You horrid brute!” Bridgit shrieked as everyone stared in dumb silence, too numbed by the swift course of events to move. “See what you have done with your hate and your talk of evil. You’re the one who’s poisoned, not this poor child.” She lifted Summer’s head onto her lap and gently massaged her temples. “Someone bring me some water. You,” she ordered, pointing at a slack-jawed youth standing near her, “keep the sun off her face.”

  “She just fainted,” Brent rasped in a frayed voice. “She’ll recover soon enough.”

  “You’re a brutal, wicked man,” Bridgit ranted, not ceasing to fan Summer with her open palm.

  “Smith, we’re taking her with us. It’ll be easier if you move her, before she revives. Have someone fetch her trunks. You,” he said addressing Bridgit, “see that her things are packed, but don’t worry about your
own.”

  “You can’t mean to take this poor child without someone to see to her?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean to do.”

  “What can you want with her?” Smith asked. He was badly shaken to question Brent before the crew.

  “We’ll get loaded a lot quicker if you don’t question my orders,” Brent barked. “Throw a bucket of water over that agent and bring him here.” Smith’s steady gaze did not quail before Brent’s angry glare. He was the only one who guessed how close Brent had come to losing all trace of humanity under the stress of the hatred which had simmered inside him for ten long years.

  Within moments a soaked and barely conscious Brinklow was hauled before Brent. He shook the dazed man like a rag doll. “Listen carefully to every word I say, and carry it back to the earl exactly as I give it to you. Do you understand?” Brinklow nodded, too afraid of being shaken to bits to open his mouth.

  “Tell Gowan his former ward has taken his lovely young wife to Biscay Island. If he wants her he’ll have to come after her.” Brent took painful hold of Brinklow’s ear and pulled him closer. “And be sure to tell him he won’t be dealing with such a green boy this time. Can you remember all that?” The poor man nodded again, barely able to think of anything but the throbbing pain in his pinioned ear.

  “One more thing.” Brent’s voice sank to a whisper. “Be sure to tell Gowan that he doesn’t have to worry that any harm will come to her. I’ll treat her exactly as he would himself.” Brent’s laugh did not encourage others to join in. “Exactly as he would himself,” he repeated. Brent released Brinklow’s ear so suddenly the demoralized agent almost fell down; then he spun on his heel and thundered an order to his crew. “I want to be under sail in half an hour.” He left them without another word.

  “He didn’t even so much as look to see if she was still breathing,” Williams marveled, staring after Brent’s retreating figure, “and he leaves you and me to carry her on board. That’s not like the captain and I’ve known him nigh on to six years. I told her the captain was a great gentleman, that he wouldn’t harm her.” He shook his head in shocked disbelief. “And she was such a pretty little thing, too. I can’t figure out what got into him.”

  “It can’t be the girl,” said Smith, feeling extremely ill at ease. “It must be her husband.”

  “He’s got no call to make off with a man’s wife no matter what kind of scurvy rogue the man might be. I’d just as soon have nothing to do with holding countesses for ransom. You mark my words, the captain will come to rue this day’s work.”

  “Maybe, but that’s no concern for the likes of you and me,” Smith responded, and then both men went about their tasks. It was never wise to keep the captain waiting; in his present mood it was positively foolhardy.

  Chapter 4

  Summer opened her eyes to a blur of light. She became confused and then alarmed as the figures around her gradually began to disentangle themselves and take shape. Absolutely nothing was familiar. She rushed to the porthole, but only the familiar limitless expanse of blue Atlantic met her gaze. The sun was an enormous orange ball riding on the tossing sea, and the ship seemed to be sailing right into its waning rays. But that’s west, she thought. Why were they sailing away from Scotland? Why wasn’t she in her own cabin? Where was Bridgit? Was that terrifying young man real, or was he just part of a horrible nightmare? Battling rising panic, she tried the door, but it wouldn’t open. She was locked in her cabin!

  Then all at once she knew; she was on the pirate ship. The pit of her stomach contracted painfully. What were they going to do with her? It would be months before the earl could arrive and ransom her. What would happen to her in the meantime? A sharp knock at the door nearly caused Summer to jump out of her skin.

  “Are you awake?” demanded the unmistakable voice. Summer backed away, too frightened to reply. The knock sounded again, louder this time, but she still didn’t answer.

  “The mercenary little adventuress is still out cold,” the captain said in disgust. “I can’t imagine she has too many waking moments when Gowan’s home.” She heard a key being fitted into the lock and watched the handle turn as if by itself.

  “Don’t come in! I’m awake,” she cried desperately. “Please send Bridgit to me.”

  “I’m already in,” Brent announced as he closed the door behind him, “and I left Bridgit on the Sea Otter.”

  Summer was paralyzed by fear; she felt utterly defenseless before this terrifying man who had already bludgeoned her into unconsciousness with the fierceness of his hatred. Now she was alone with him, a prisoner on his ship, completely at his mercy; she couldn’t bring herself to even think of what he might do to her. She tried to appear undaunted as she stood facing him, but it was impossible to ignore her trembling limbs.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked, afraid of the answer. “We’re not heading toward Scotland.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Nobody.”

  “That’s very clever of you,” said Brent, impressed. “But I should have guessed you’d have to have some intelligence to trap Gowan into marriage.”

  Rising anger gave Summer’s reply a sharp edge. “You don’t have to be a genius to know we’re not heading east if we’re sailing directly into the setting sun. Why did you take me off the Sea Otter? What do you intend to do with me?”

  “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 feel
ing 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.