Boyett-Compo, Charlotte - Wyndmaster 1 (9 page)

“Ah, milady,” Vargas said as he came hurrying in. He rushed to the nightstand, took up the basin, and

ran out with it. Where he dumped the contents was a mystery but he came back to hold the basin under

Celeste’s chin. Sierran could hear him bellowing for Mac to bring a fresh pitcher of water and a cup.

“Is everything okay on deck?” Sierran asked.

“We lost a crewman to the sea but the cap’n said we can ride it out. It’s a bad one, Commander,”

Vargas answered.

Mac arrived and poured Celeste a cup of water. “Here you go, milady,” the Solarian said. “Rinse your

mouth out for us.”

Celeste cheeks were flaming as she fumbled for the water and brought it to her lips.

“We’ve been blown way the hell off course,” Mac told him. “We won’t make Zykanthos before late

afternoon tomorrow now.”

“My father,” Celeste managed to say as Vargas ran a cool washcloth over her heated face. “Is he all

right?”

Mac’s lips twisted. “Aye, milady. I checked on the Dungeon Master, myself. As luck would have it, he’s

still chained to the wall but at least his shouts have died down to hissing now.”

Celeste nodded and moved to lie back down. She heard Sierran’s gasp and knew she’d bumped into

his chest. “Milord, I am so…”

“Don’t say it,” he warned, moving back from her so she could stretch out. “Never apologize to me.”

She turned her head and looked at him. He was so unbelievably attractive lying there on his side facing

her. His dark hair was once more falling over his forehead and she longed to push back the silky curls. In

a flash of light from the windows, she could see his eyes had a honey gold cast to them. In all, he was one

devastatingly handsome man and the sight of him was wrecking havoc with her senses.

“Fetch me some soapy water to clean this up, Mac,” Vargas ordered as he hunkered down on the floor

to mop up the vomit with a discarded towel that had been used to dry Sierran’s hair. Mac went to do as

he was asked.

“When you get done with that, have the captain come see me,” Sierran told Vargas.

Vargas’ eyebrows drew together at the request but he didn’t question it. “Aye, Commander.”

After Vargas and Mac left the cabin—the floor cleaned and smelling slightly of pine—Sierran finally lay

down beside Celeste. She was as rigid as a board but he didn’t think that was because she feared him as

much as she feared hurting him.

“Milady?” he questioned softly. The rain had finally stopped and the wind was no longer skirling like a

berserker around the ship.

“Aye, milord?”

“You asked what I intended for you and your father,” he reminded her.

Celeste was already tense as she tried so hard not to come into contact with his injured body. “Aye?”

“I’ve not decided about him as yet but I have decided about you.”

Her heart was hammering wickedly in her chest and she eased a hand up to her throat. Before she could

ask what his decision was, there was a light knock at the door.

“Come!” Sierran called out.

Captain Petros Kynth was a big, burly man. When he entered the cabin, he appeared to dominate the

berth he’d given up to his passenger. “You heard about my crewman?” he asked.

“I will pray for his soul,” Sierran acknowledged.

“It was his first time out,” Petros said with a shake of his head.

“Give Vargas his family’s address and I’ll see they get compensated for his loss.”

Petros thanked him. “Was there something else, Commander?”

“Aye,” Sierran said. “This is Lady Celeste Allen.”

“Milady,” Petros greeted her with a touch of his finger to his temple.

“Thank you for getting us safely through the storm, Captain,” Celeste said, feeling very strange lying in

the bunk as the massive man towered over them.

“My request is concerning Lady Celeste,” Sierran stated.

Petros tilted his head to one side in query.

Sierran took a deep breath then said, “I want you to marry us.”

Celeste sat up so quickly she nearly passed out. Her mouth had dropped open and her eyes flared wide

with disbelief. She stared down at the man lying beside her, unable to make a sound.

“We’ll need two witnesses,” Petros said. “I’ll get Vargas and Mac.”

“What are you doing?” Celeste managed to squeak.

“Effectively killing at least two birds with one stone,” he replied. With effort, he pushed himself up on his

elbows. “I’m giving you your freedom to have a normal life?plus I’ll drive your father insane when he

learns he’s not only lost you to another man but one he fully intended to torture to death.” He grinned.

“There are other benefits involved here as well.”

She could do nothing but stare at him, arching a brow in question for him to continue.

“Well,” he said, forcing himself to a sitting position beside her. “You get a man who’s fairly well off and

who has an estate not unlike the one from which you gained your freedom and in the doing, I get a lovely

woman to grace my home.” He shrugged. “I’d say those are two pluses to the solution.”

“How can you marry a woman you don’t even know?” she countered.

“It’s time I married and settled down,” Sierran said. “I’m tired of living alone and I fully intend to resign

my commission so there will be no more need to disobey a direct order to slaughter innocent people. I’m

sick of war and I’m due retirement.”

“But you don’t
know
me!” she protested. “I could make a terrible wife!”

“I doubt that,” he said.

“You don’t know, though, do you?” she asked and brushed at tears that had suddenly formed in her

eyes.

“I know all I need to just by your touch,” he said. “You are a kind and gentle woman with a capacity for

great compassion. I saw the hurt in your eyes when you took a look at what your father had done to

me.”

“I didn’t know what he was doing,” she said, shame filling her. “He told me he was a physician and I

believed him.”

“I believe you,” he said.

“My father owes you a debt I could never repay,” she whispered.

“Pay it by marrying me,” he said.

Celeste nibbled at her lower lip.

“I swear to you that I will do my damnedest to be a good husband to you,” he said. “I’ll never let

anyone hurt you and I will provide well for you should something happen to me. You won’t ever need to

worry about having money or a roof over your head or having to live with a group of hateful nuns.”

Petros rapped lightly at the door and came into the cabin with Vargas and Mac, both of who were

frowning sharply.

“What ails you, Vargas?” Sierran inquired.

“You know,” the soldier mumbled.

“I’m making an honest woman of her,” Sierran said. “What more could you want?”

Vargas lifted his chin. “You make it sound like you’ve compromised her already, Commander, and we

know you ain’t done that.”

“Yet,” Sierran said and saw Celeste’s face turn bright red. “I’m waiting for the ravishment to be legal.”

“Milord!” Celeste protested, hiding her face in her hands.

“You ought not to be forcing her to…” Mac began but his commander held his hand up.

“Milady?” he asked. “Am I forcing you?”

She shook her head, unable to lower her hands.

“Did I threaten you in some way?”

“No,” she was able to whisper.

“Did I threaten to peel the flesh off your father piece by evil piece?though it would give me the greatest

of pleasures to do so?if you refused my suit?”

Celeste sighed. “No, you did not.”

Sierran looked away from her and locked gazes with Vargas. “What else do you men think I should ask

her so your sense of propriety will be satisfied?”

“Do you want to marry him, milady?” Vargas demanded. “That’s the only decent thing to ask.”

Celeste was looking at the handsome profile of the man sitting beside her. She might be making a devil’s

bargain but if she was, she’d endure it to be with Sierran Morgan. “Well,” she said. “It beats a sharp

stick to the eye. I could do worse, I’m thinking.”

“Indeed you could,” Sierran agreed with a grin.

“Think well on it, milady,” Vargas insisted. “This being your first time out and all.” He was staring at his

commander. “And there are many a fish in the sea. You don’t have to reel in the first one what nips at

your bait.”

Celeste smiled. “I appreciate your advice, Vargas, but I am satisfied with what I’m doing.” She looked

into Sierran's eyes. "Quite satisfied."

“Then let’s be at it,” Petros said with a grin.

As rough as the seas had been during the storm, they were now becalmed and the
Austru’s
sails were

hanging limp against the masts. Not a breath of a breeze stirred.

Alone in the captain’s cabin, Sierran and his new wife were lying—he under the covers and she outside

them—with their fingers entwined as he told of her of his life before joining the Army of the Federation.

“Despite having a family when growing up, you sound as though you were nearly as lonesome as I,”

Celeste commented.

“It was a tough childhood,” he admitted. “I was the youngest and I always felt I had been an

afterthought.”

“A what?”

"The last child of my parents before my mother could have no more," he explained. "A sort of oops."

She smiled. "An oops," she repeated. "You have such a flare for description, milord."

"Sierran," he corrected.

"Sierran," she stated.

They were quiet for awhile, listening to the activity on deck above them.

"Are you going to do it now?" she asked softly.

Sierran frowned. "Do what, sweeting?"

Her face flamed. "You know." She fanned her free hand. "It."

A moment passed before he realized what she meant. "Oh," he said, his cheeks turning red. "That."

"Aye, that," she whispered and turned so she was looking at him. "Are you?"

"Do you want me to?" he countered. "We could wait until we reach my home."

She tucked her lower lip between her teeth. "Shouldn't we consummate the matter as soon as

possible?"

Sierran blinked. "Are you in a rush of some sort?"

Celeste wanted to blurt out that, aye, she was, and that she was nearly jumping out of her skin with

wanting him to touch her as she'd seen the maid's lover pleasuring the maid. She wanted to know what it

was like to be the object of a man's desire but she thought, perhaps, that would be a bit brazen to tell him

so and—more to the point—shameful on her part.

"Well, we are man and wife," she reminded him. "And it is your right."

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he was in no condition to exercise that right but one portion

of his anatomy seemed to be having a mind of its own and was hardening at a prodigious rate.

"Just tell me what to do and I will," she was quick to say.

He swallowed hard for suddenly making love to her seemed to be the most important thing on his

agenda, never mind the pain lancing through his body with every move he made.

"Well, ah, you have to be…" He winced as his voice broke like an untried youth's. "You should be…"

"Naked?" she suggested with an eagerness that left him staring at her.

"Aye, but…" He stopped for she was already unbuttoning the bodice of her gown. All he could do was

watch her while every inch of his flesh tingled and other parts of him throbbed.

Celeste swung her legs off the bed and stepped out of her gown, kicking off her slippers as she neatly

folded the gown and laid it aside. Clad only in her chemise, stockings, and garter belt, she turned to look

down at him. "Completely naked, milord?" she wanted clarified.

Sierran nodded, unable to utter a sound. His eyes flared when she pushed the chemise over her

shoulders and wriggled out of it, her back to him. As his gaze settled on the wispy garter belt and the

opaque white stockings—the only things she wore—he had to bite his tongue to keep from groaning.

Her bare back looked as soft as silk and the rounded mounds of her buttocks made his mouth water.

When she unhooked each stocking and peeled it down her legs—presenting him with a delectable view

of her sweet rump—he drew in a harsh breath.

"Are you naked beneath the covers, milord?" she asked, turning around to face him. One slender arm

was arched over her breasts to cover them while her hand was splayed out over the wiry curls at the

juncture of her thighs.

"Aye," he said and had he had the ability to do so would have kicked himself for the way his voice

sounded like that of an adolescent boy.

"All right, then," she said and reached out for the covers.

Before he could do or say anything, she was climbing into the bed and settling beneath the covers with

him, her satiny leg pressed close to his.

"I've never lain naked in the bed before," she said then giggled. "Or anywhere else for that matter." Her

eyebrows drew together. “I rather like the way it feels.”

Sierran had to snap his mouth shut for he was damned well drooling! Not inexperienced with women, he

nevertheless felt bumbling as she turned to her side to face him.

"Am I being shameless, Sierran?" she asked, her lovely face crinkling.

"No," he said then had to repeat the word for he had nearly choked on it. "No, milady, you aren't being

shameless. Just…" He shrugged helplessly. "Curious, I suppose."

She put her thumbnail to her lips for a moment. "I don't think my father ever meant for me to get

married," she said.

"So I've been told," he said, aching to touch her. He wanted to run his fingers over her pretty face.