Island Flame Part 11

When at last he lifted his head it was only to bury his lips in the warm curve of her neck. Cathy's hands, which should have been bruising him, instead stroked his bristly cheek.

"I'm crazy for you," Jon muttered at last, raising himself so that he could look down into her face. What he saw there made his muscles stiffen longingly. Her sapphire eyes, their radiance enhanced by the sparkling drops that filled them and clung to her lashes, glowed up at him lovingly. Her small mouth had the deep, redness of thelushest rose. As she smiled at him tremulously, he caught his breath as at a physical blow.

"I didn't mean what I said, sweet. Please forgive me."

His voice was humble as Cathy had never heard it before, and the hard core of shamed anger inside her melted away, like b.u.t.ter under a hot sun. I love this man, she thought, amazed, and the thought so bemused her that she could only stare at him wonderingly. After amoment her hand came up to caress his unshaven jaw, delighting in the feel of its roughness against her palm.

"Forgive me?" he asked again, his voice low, and his eyes plaintive.

"Does it mean so much to you, to have me forgive you?" she asked softly, hopefully. Jon's eyes glinted down at her, and his mouth curved in a self-mocking smile.

"Well, you see, my cat," he confided in her ear. "I want you so badly that I ache with it. And I have this minute resolved never to make love to you without your full consent again. So I need your cooperation if I'm not to spend the rest of my life stooped like some poor hunchback."

Cathy laughed with a little catch in her vice at this audacious speech. It was just like him to make lewd suggestions while trying to win her forgiveness for his earlier lewd suggestions! His eyes gleamed with corresponding laughter as he lowered his head.

The soft peak of her breast was his target. His lips burned moistly through the fabric of her dress, but Cathy made no attempt to push him away. She gave an involuntary moan of pleasure asa spreading warmth began to pulse inside her. Her nipple hardened under his searing caress.

"Your body forgives me," he murmured. Cathy's hands fluttered to his shoulders, knowing they should be pushing him away but unable to gather sufficient strength.

"All right, I forgive you," she gasped desperately, hoping that her capitulation would cause him to stop before she disgraced herself completely.

"That's my girl." The words were said against her lips as his mouth moved up to claim hers. Cathy responded to his kiss hesitantly at first, and then with growing pa.s.sion. Her arms twined around his neck and she moved against him instinctively, forgetting his injuries in her ever-increasing need of him.

"Ahh, Cathy," he groaned, his hand coming up beneath her dress to press intimately against her lace-covered b.u.t.tocks, molding her tightly against him. Cathy writhed against his hardness, suddenly craving the feel of him inside her, like a starving man craves food. It had been so long-and now she loved him. Maybe she always had. Her hand came up rather shyly to caress his thigh,then drew back as her fingers encountered the linen bandage.

"Jon, Jon, wait!" She tried to draw away. "Darling, you can't! You might start to bleed again!"

"Do you thinkIgive a d.a.m.n?" he muttered fiercely, pressing hot kisses over her neck and the exposed part of her bosom. "What did you call me?"

Cathy could feel herself flushing, but there was no help for it.

"I-darling," she answered simply, and he drew back a little to look at her. His gray eyes, cloudy with pa.s.sion, were intent on her pink-hued face.

"That's what.i.thought you said," he said with satisfaction, his hand leaving its distracting occupation to move to the hooks at the back of her dress.

"Jon, really, no!"Cathy was breathing hard, but she was perfectly serious. "You're not well enough yet."

His hand freed the last of the hooks, tugging her dress down over her shoulders. Cathy caught at it before he could move it past her swelling bosom. He looked at her.

"Iam-if you'll help me.Iwant you so badly. Please." His gray eyes pleaded with her like a small boy's begging for a sweet.

Cathy sighed, letting him pull the dress from her. She wore just one petticoat beneath it for coolness sake, and she had left off her stays for the same reason. Jon didn't even give her time to take it off. His hand slid up the back of her thigh to tug down her pantalets, tearing the fine lace a little in his haste. As she obediently kicked free of them he pulled her on top of him, shoving the skirt of her petticoat up around her waist.

Cathy caught her breath at the feel of his fiery hardness burning against her soft belly. Instinctively she rubbed against him until they were both gasping.

"Cathy-loveme. Cathy-loveme," he moaned. Cathy stared down at him, willing to do whatever he wanted, by now knowing quite what that was. His eyes, glazed with pa.s.sion, flickered open. Seeing her obvious confusion, they darkened even more.

"Ride me," he directed softy. Cathy felt bright scarlet embarra.s.sment stain her cheeks as she caught his meaning at last. Jon showed her what to do and she did it, both of them barely breathing as he slid deep inside her. Her movements were untaught, and rather shy, but they were enough to send both of them spinning with an intensity that neither had ever dreamed was possible.

Eight.

Cathy was more than a little appalled at what had happened to her. It seemed impossible that she could have actually fallen in love with a man who had abducted her and subsequently forced her to perform the most intimate acts with him. A man, moreover, who was a thief and a murderer and made no bones about.i.t . A man without lineage or money, whose only possession in the wide world so far as she knew was a ship!

He didn't even treat her that well, she mused, eyes beginning to cloud moodily. Since her outburst of two days ago he had been gentle and almost tender with her, but Cathy knew him well enough by now to be sure that his mellow mood would not last. Sooner or later she would do something to put him in a temper, and he would flare at her with all his usual fury. Well, at least she was no longer afraid of him. He wouldn't hurt her physically, she knew, and verbally, she could return what she got!

He was handsome, Cathy allowed, as she tried to discover what it was about him that made her heart go pita-pat. He was so tall and strong and worldly that, beside him, she sometimes felt like the child he mockingly called her. Just thinking about the wicked glint in those gray eyes when he looked at her, about the mocking curve of his mouth and the slash in his cheek when hesmiled, warmed her. The memory of his lovemaking was enough to stop her breath. She grimaced, pushing the hair out of her eyes with an impatient hand. For whatever reason, she might as well admit it. She was in love with the dratted man.

That settled, the question now was, what to do about it? The only satisfactory solution would be for him to fall equally in love with her. She sometimes thought that he was not far from it. Whenever she was near, his eyes followed her hungrily, and if she came within reach of his hands she could be sure of a l.u.s.ty pat or pinch. She knew that he wanted her body with an insatiability that never failed to amaze her. And she could move him- yes, in bed she could move him to the heights. But even in his most pa.s.sionate moments he had never hinted at love or affection, or, indeed, anything but an intense desire to possess her physically. Which reduced her to the honorable status of his wh.o.r.e, she thought savagely. With a decided toss of her head she resolved to change that mightyquick ! She would make him fall in love with her if it killed her-or him.

Jon had progressed to the point where he could lever himself out of the bunk and hop to a chair near the window. He was anxious to be out on deck again, but Cathy was afraid for him to venture too much, too soon. She knew that the only reason he acceded to her wishes was because he didn't like to display the full extent of his disability to his men. As he had once told her, a pirate crew was much like a wolf pack: they respected strength above all. For a leader to exhibit weakness was to invite trouble. His crew had been with him for years and he was convinced of their loyalty, but one lesson Jon had learned in his life was that no person was entirely trustworthy. He set one of the men to fashioning him a crutch, and in the meantime stayed grudgingly out of the way. He would return to the quarterdeck when he could get there without being carried like a baby. There was no point in taking chances.

Cathy sighed. Harry's devotion had become obvious to all, andPetersham had even gone so far as to warn her, with a meaningful look, that the captain was a jealous man. Once Jon resumed command of the ship, he was bound to become aware of the situation. She had tried everything she could think of to discourage Harry's attentions, but nothing had worked. Hopefully, Jon would see the younger man's devotion as the natural interest of a male in the only female within miles, and let it go at that. Or better yet, maybe Jon's presence on the quarterdeck would quell Harry sufficiently so that Jon need never know anything about it.

It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny. If not for the gentle breeze it would have been almost hot. The "Margarita" was moving on a southerly course, and Cathy could only suppose that Jon had concurred with Harry's orders when they were set. Their stores of food and water were getting low again. But when she pestered Jon about where they were headed, he teasingly refused to answer. She would see, was all he would say. Cathy shook her head. Really, he was becoming more like a mischievous small boy every day.

She was smiling when she walked back into the cabin, her cheeks flushed by the sun and her hair blown into curling disorder. Her smile changed to a severe frown as she saw Jon, clad in a pair of black breeches that were far too tight around his heavily bandaged leg, sitting at the table and studying some charts. She crossed to stand behind him, her thighs pressing into his broad,wellmuscled back and her hand coming to rest on his bare shoulder. He grunted a h.e.l.lo without looking around. Cathy grimaced. As an impa.s.sioned lover, he had some definite failings.

"You shouldn't be up," she told the back of his head sternly. His arm came out to hook her waist, and he pulled her around so that he could see her. He was smiling, the gray eyes twinkling roguishly. Cathy felt her heart melt with tenderness for him.

"You look like an angel," he said by way of a reply, his eyes warm on her reproving face."But a very bossy angel. I think I've spoiled you. Don't you know that you're supposed to quake at my every frown? I'm a vicious, bloodthirsty pirate, remember?"

"And I'm not an angel, I'm your nurse," Cathy replied lightly. "If you don't do as I tell you, I'll be terribly clumsy when next I change your bandages."

Jon laughed, and pulled her around so that she was sitting on his good knee. His arm squeezed her waist while his hand wandered upward to traptenderer game. Cathy pushed his hand away with a show of indignation, but was soon distracted by his warm mouthnibling teasingly at the curve of her neck. His hand stealthily returned to caress its prize. She stiffened automatically,then relaxed. The feel of his hand on her breast tingled pleasurably down to her toes.

"Let me up," Cathy ordered without much conviction. "The door is wide open. Anyone could walk in."

"Who cares?" Jon murmured abstractedly, his attention centered on the tempting valley revealed by the gentle scoop of her bodice.

"I do!" Cathy flashed him an admonishing look. His Lips traced lightly along her cheekbone and down her nose before coming to rest at the corner of her mouth.

"Do you really?" he asked against her quivering lips.

Then his mouth took hers with leisurely expertise and Cathy had to admit that at this moment she didn't care about anything except the delicious way he was making her feel.

"What are you doing?" When he lifted his head at last, Cathy's heart was thudding unevenly. Cathy hoped that the question would serve to distract him.

"Admiring your beauty," he answered promptly, his hard arm moving up close beneath her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to hold her tightly and cause the neckline of her gown to gape away from her curving flesh. His eyes feasted pleasurably on the bounty thus exposed to his view.

"Imeant with the charts." Cathy nipped his arm sharply with her fingers. With an aggrieved sigh his attention turned to the papers spread out on the table.

"Calculating how long it will take us to get where we're going. Harry tells me that we've run into some strong westerly currents which have pulled us slightly off course."

"And wherearewe going?" Cathy asked casually, hoping that he would answer without thinking. Instead he grinned down at her.

"Curiosity killed the cat, sweet," he teased.

"And satisfaction brought it back," she retorted smartly. Then, on a coaxing note, "Please tell me where we're going."

"Persuade me," he murmured in her ear. The wicked glint in his eye left her in no doubt as to the type of persuasion he had in mind.

"Certainly not," Cathy answered primly, but couldn't resist trailing a provocative finger down his hard arm. Jon rewarded her boldness with a playful bite on her ear.

"If you must know, my nosy cat, we're going to Las Palmas," he said, leaning back in the chair and shifting her so that he could hold her more comfortably againsthim. One brown finger played idly with a strand of golden hair. Cathy rested back against his hard chest contentedly.

"Las Palmas?" Cathyquestioned, eyes dreamy. She was no longer particularly interested in his answer. The warm male smell of him was acting like a drug on her senses. Idly, she continued, "I've never heard of it. Is it a city?"

Jon smiled slightly, shaking his head as he pulled one of the charts closer.

"No, my lovely ignoramus, Las Palmas is not a city. It's an island. We use it as sort of home base between voyages."

"Between thieving expeditions, you mean," Cathy corrected, a slight edge sharpening her voice.

"All right, between thieving expeditions, if you prefer," he agreed carelessly, his eyes narrowing a little as he looked down at her.

Cathy's eyes flicked away from his to return to the charts.

"Have you ever thought about giving it up?" she asked, deliberately offhand.

'What, my life of debauchery and sin?" he mocked. "No, why should I? I like what I do."

"How can you like murdering and stealing?" Cathy snapped, straightening away from him.

"It has its rewards," he replied, joggling her up and down on his knee, as an adult would a fractious infant. Cathy glared at him, and he grinned. "I earn a good living, I call no man master, I sail my own ship, and- uh-I have a very pretty bedmate."

His eyes ran over her with exaggerated lascivious-nessbefore twinkling down into her own.

"I'm serious," Cathy insisted, frowning at him irritably. "You can't be a pirate forever. It's against the law.One day you'll make a mistake and you'll be caught. Then you'll hang."

"And does the thought bother you, my cat?" One silky black eyebrow twitched quizzically. "Not so very long ago, I could have sworn that if you had had access to a pistol or a knife, my life would have been abruptly terminated."

"Oh, you're impossible!" Cathy stormed, struggling to get off his lap. His words made a mockery of the concern he must know she felt for him. Thank G.o.d he had no idea of the true state of her emotions where he was concerned! He would really have a field day if he knew that!

"I wouldn't want to see any man hang," Cathy added with what dignity she could muster, still squirming to be free.

"Not so fast, little cat," he murmured, restraining her easily despite his injuries. Cathy could haveeffected her releasebykicking or hitting his wounded thigh, she knew, but she didn't. Her love for him was such that she wouldn't willingly hurt him. "Why is it that you always want to leave just as the conversation gets interesting?"

Reluctantly Cathy stopped struggling, aware that to insist on being set free might reveal more than he had any right to know. She rested back against him guilelessly, aware of the p.r.i.c.kle of his wiry chest hair through her dress.

"Would it matter so much to you, if I was hanged?" he persisted.

Cathylowered her lashes to screen her eyes, careful to let no hint of her emotions show in her face. He could read her expressions like a book, she knew. For a moment she was tempted to confess her love, but cool caution restrained her. It would be a powerful weapon in the hands of a man who was, afterall, a rogue and a blackguard. Unless he was rendered similarly vulnerable, herconfession would leave her wholly at his mercy. She decided to confound any suspicions he might harbor by skating as close to the truth as was possible without actually revealing it. He wasn't stupid, after all. He must already know that her care of him meant something.

"Of course I wouldn't like to see you hang," she answered coolly, her blue gaze untroubled and candid as it met his piercing gray one. "Against my betterjudgement , I've grown rather fond of you."

The flickering light in his eyes died at her words. They grew harder, unreadable.Histeeth came down to nip punishingly at the creamy bare flesh of her shoulder.

"So you're 'rather fond' of me, are you?" he murmured silkily, his mouth resting on the pulse that pounded just beneath her ear. "Your heart's beating mighty fast for mere fondness."

'You're a conceited animal, aren't you?" Cathyasked, her voice chill as she tried to get her wayward pulses under control. 'You're lucky to get fondness. I should hate you forever after the beastly way you've treated me."

"I've treated you like a queen, my cat, and you know it." His voice had hardened to match his eyes. "Have I- starved you, hurt you in any way? Have you ever stopped to think how you would have fared, a prisoner in the hands of any other man? You should be grateful."

"Grateful?" Cathy flared disbelievingly, her eyes snapping sapphire sparks at him. "You kidnapped me and kept me prisoner! You raped me and humiliated me! And you think I should be grateful?"

Her voice cracked indignantly on the last word. Jon looked down at her, bristling on his lap like a small ruffled hen, then smiled ruefully. For the past few days his she-cat had purred like a kitten for him, and he had grown toLike it.Too much, as he now realized.

"Oh, Cathy," he murmured with half-amused resignation. He definitely was not in the mood for a quarrel. Indeed, he had something altogether different in mind. "I take it back. I was undoubtedly brutal to you, and I apologize."

"So you should," Cathy told him severely, trying again to get up off his lap. He restrained her with ludicrous ease. From the hardening of the muscles beneath her, she could tell that her movements had merely succeeded in exciting him.

"Iseem to spend half my time telling you thatI'm sorry for something or other," he lamented in her ear. "This has to stop.I'm afraid it will go to your head, and thenI'll be spending the rest of my life apologizing for trifles."

"ButIwon't be around for the rest of your life, willI,Jon?" Cathy asked sweetly, taking advantage of the opening. "Sooner or later you'll have to let me go."

Jon's eyes gleamed briefly. He buried his face in her bright hair, breathing deeply of its soft fragrance, without replying.

"When are you going to let me go, Jon?" she prodded softly.

"WhenIget good and ready."His answer was clipped. "You weren't so anxious to leave me in Cadiz, if you recall. You had the chance."

"The other prisoners were released in Cadiz," she reminded him. "But you were planning to keep me even before you were hurt. Why weren't you going to let me go with them?"

"Because, my beautiful shrew, I have this strange craving for the taste of your skin.Idon't propose to let you go untilI've had my fill of it." His eyes leered down at her, but the rest of his face was guarded. Cathy began to feel that she was making progress.

"Not my leg, sweet," he grinned. "But other parts of my anatomy ache sorely."

"The cure is in your own hands," she repliedunsym -pathetically, catching his meaning. "Let me up."

"Iprefer another solution," he growled, his hands moving suggestively over her. Cathy shook her head at him, not bothering to evade his caressing fingers. She wasn't in the mood for any more verbal sparring. Deliberately she curved a soft arm around the back of his neck, pulling his head down to plant a soft kiss on his sandpaper cheek. Let him think about that as well!

"Your bark is much worse than your bite, Captain, asIknow very well. Now let me up.Ihave things to do."

The look in Jon's eyes warmed. That kiss was the first spontaneous gesture of affection she had ever given him, and it made his heart beat faster. He felt forall the world like some infatuated schoolboy. Somehow this soft, little female on his lap was succeeding in making him feel things he would have scoffed in the past. The experience wasn't to his liking at all, but there didn't seem to be much he could do about it. He had already tried to cast her out of his mind by every means he could think of, and failed.

Cathy twisted in his hold, her eyes widening at his arrested expression.

"Jon,is anything wrong?" she purred.

His eyes glinted down at her rather dazedly for a moment, as if he was having trouble getting his bearings. Then his gaze focused on her face, and he bent his head to return her kiss right on her sweet little mouth. This wench was not like the others, he was certain. She was as innocent of guile and feminine schemings as a new-born babe.

"Excuse me, Captain." Harry's voice was wintry as he spoke from just inside the cabin door."I'd like to go over the charts with you." He slanted a burning look at Cathy, pink-faced and cozilyensconsed on Jon's lap."If you can spare the time."