Catalina's Caress (18 page)

C
atalina slammed the door so hard that it swung back open and she had the satisfaction of slamming it again. She had often been angry, but she'd never felt such all-consuming fury before.

Travis's deceit plus Marc's arrogant attitude, his amusement-tinged disbelief, were too much for her. She paced back and forth like a caged lioness, her body still quivering with rage. What she didn't realize was that her anger was really directed at Marc. Suddenly she stopped pacing and breathed deeply to regain control of herself. It was then she realized the stateroom looked occupied. It took only a few glances around to figure out whose cabin this was. It was Marc Copeland's.

He thinks I've jumped from the frying pan into the fire, but he has a few surprises coming, she thought.

She had not expected Travis's move, but now she was ready to take care of herself.

The rap on the door made her jump, but she regained her equilibrium, and a glow appeared in her eyes as she jerked the door open to find Marc leaning indolently against the frame, his thumbs hooked in his belt and a lazy grin on his face.

"I just came to see if you were all right, and to make sure that you have observed that there are no other doors to this room." He laughed, softly and teasingly. "Anybody invited to this room will have to come through this door."

Catalina clenched her teeth. "I did not unbolt that door, and no one—no one," she repeated firmly, "is welcome in my stateroom."

"You know this is my cabin?"

"I surmised that."

He shrugged. "You don't mind if I come in, just to gather a few things. It will only take a minute."

"Is there no other cabin empty?"

"No. Of course you could go back to your own cabin. I'm sure your... ah . . . friend would welcome you with open arms."

"I don't want to put you to any trouble. I'd be glad to ... if you'll see that the door between those two staterooms is nailed shut."

"Hardly. I don't ever damage what belongs to me, especially something as beautiful as the
Belle
."

Being reminded that the
Belle
now belonged to him stirred Catalina to anger again, but she forcefully reminded herself that she was here for a purpose. The thought entered her head that she might find some trace of Seth if she waged a less obvious battle. To Marc's surprise she stood aside and motioned for him to enter.

As he walked in, she turned from the door, fully intending to leave it open. It was bad enough that she wore so little. If any of her family or friends were to see her in this compromising position, they would be scandalized. But Marc, as she passed him, reached back to swing the door shut. It closed with a sharp click causing her to spin about.

The taunting glow in his eyes killed the angry words on her lips. She would be damned if she'd let him think for one minute that the situation was out of her control.

He went to a cupboard and removed some clothes, then to a small chest from which he took personal material. Putting all these things on the bed, he knelt to slide a satchel out from under it.

He started to pack the satchel, aware that Catalina's eyes had never left him. He laughed to himself, for despite her bravado he could sense both her anger and her fear. She was prepared to dash to the door at the first wrong move from him. Closing the satchel, he placed it on the floor and turned again to face her.

She watched the amusement in his eyes change to a blatant perusal of her, and she flushed as she folded her arms defensively before her.

"Would you like me to go back and get some of your things?'

"No!" she didn't want him pawing through her personal belongings. "Can they not be packed and brought here tomorrow? Maybe Shawna would help me. She is very kind."

The unreadable look in Marc's eyes took Catalina by surprise.

"You trust Shawna?"

"Of course. She's..."

"Innocent," Marc supplied softly.

"Yes ... innocent," Catalina said, as if it surprised her.

"She is that," he added thoughtfully. "A little too innocent to be corrupted. I'll send someone, most likely China, to get your things."

"Are you suggesting that I..." She sucked in her breath, her temper aroused by his suggestion that he did not consider associating with her positive for one of his playthings.

"I'm not suggesting anything." He sounded amused. "Just being protective of Shawna. She means a lot to me."

"Yes," Catalina said scornfully. "I can imagine she does. And I can imagine why you don't want her to be exposed to any outside influence. She might just realize there's a world out there that's got more to offer than you do."

"Don't talk about what you could never understand. I'll send someone to gather your things. They'll be brought to you in the morning."

"Thank you," she said, her words dripping acid.

"Tell me"—Marc leaned casually against the bedpost and folded his arms across his chest—"are you really sure you want all your things moved? I understood that you and your friend were taking this trip together."

"In this case," she replied coldly, "together does not mean in the same room."

"Or in the same bed," he added.

"As I told you, Mr. Copeland," she said with antagonizing patience, "only people of your caliber, and Travis's, think with their loins. I prefer to choose very carefully the person with whom I would share intimacy. You can rest assured that neither you or Travis would find me receptive."

"Well then, if this little tete-a-tete isn't just fun and games for you and your friend, just what are you doing on the
Belle
? I'm more than sure there were several other boats you could have taken."

"None as beautiful as the
Belle
." She didn't want his thoughts moving in this direction. It wouldn't take him long to put two and two together. She realized she was in a difficult position. She had to let him believe what he suspected about her and Travis was the truth, not that she was on his trail. Unable to say the words that would brand her as Travis's mistress she decided to let him think what he wanted, though she knew what that was. She turned away from the intensity of his gaze. It was too knowing, and its effect was unwelcome.

Marc was mildly confused, but he still believed that Catalina and Travis were lovers, and he knew it would give him a great deal of pleasure to spoil their plans. He had plans of his own for her, and Travis had no part in them. What had happened that night had worked into his plans so well he could hardly believe it. Still some sixth sense sent a warning through him. He was well aware that Catalina could be treacherous; all the Carringtons were treacherous.

Despite this, and to his immense surprise, he found he was reluctant to leave her. He did not question the fact that he now had an opportunity to begin to wreak his vengeance. Who could stop him if he chose to take her? For a moment his eyes glittered, and Catalina would have tasted real fear had she turned to look at him then.

But he controlled his body and his mind by exerting his will. Not this way, he cautioned himself. He didn't want her to be able to say he had forced her. No, he wanted her will to bend. He wanted her pride in the dirt. He wanted her to be completely at his mercy so that when he threw her away he could tell her the reason, could watch her break. Only then would his vengeance against her be complete.

His silence forced her to turn and look at him again. That silence filled the room as they looked at each other.

The thought that leapt into his mind shocked him. What if he had met her at another time, under different circumstances? If that were ... But it wasn't.

She stood before him and her reserve only served to make him realize he had to regain his control before he let her beauty and seeming vulnerability break through his guard.

"No, there are not many boats as beautiful as the
Belle
. I'm going to enjoy owning her, and I expect she'll make me a great deal of money."

"How can you think of using a boat as beautiful as the
Belle
for a floating bordello?" she asked.

"Bordello." He chuckled. "I'm afraid you are confusing my intentions with your own. Why else would you and your friend choose the
Belle
? Obviously you put truth to rumors and believe the delights you choose to indulge in are the same others seek."

Being openly called a whore was just about the last insult Catalina could bear for that night

"How dare you!" she grated.

"Dare? How dare I do what?" His smile made her feel the distinct urge to kill.

"You are a most nefarious man, Mr. Copeland." She tried to control her voice because her anger was nearly out of control. "If there were another stateroom I could have, I would be out of your quarters immediately, but I am forced to use it for the night Surely under these circumstances I can do so without the discomfort of your arrogance and your evil thoughts. If you please, just leave me alone. I would like to sleep."

He unfolded his arms and crossed the few feet that separated them, watching a wary fear leap into her eyes. Yet he took little pleasure in this for memories touched him. He stifled his desire to see another look in her eyes.

"It's my pleasure to have rescued a damsel in distress," he said wickedly. "Of course if you should need to be rescued from anything during the night you need only call out. Oh, I forgot to tell you"—his smile left her little doubt that she should be afraid of him— "I'm right next door. This was my room and the one next door is China's. You will call if you need anything .. . anything at all."

"Damn you, get out of here. I wouldn't call you if I were dying."

His satisfied chuckle was soft in the air as he bowed slightly, took up the satchel, and then walked to the door. As he pulled it open, he turned to her.

"Good night, kitten," he said softly. "Sleep well."

When he closed the door after him, she raced across the room and slid the bolt home. Then she returned to sit on the edge of the bed, all thoughts of sleep gone.

She had not been so severely shaken in a long time. She had made many mistakes, but she had always been sure that she could face whatever might arise. Travis had taken her unprepared, but she had felt less fear when he had her trapped on the bed than she had felt when Marc Copeland had stood close to her and their eyes had met. He was the kind of danger she had not planned on, a danger that seemed to sense her every weakness.

She forced her mind from Marc and tried to form some kind of plan. She stood between Travis and Marc—two unscrupulous men. But at least she knew them. She expected no more help from Travis unless she was willing to pay for it.

If she only had some clothes, something dark to wear. Then she could slip out and search for the hold of the boat, or any other place where Seth might be.

She bit her Up as she looked at Marc's cupboard. He had not taken all his clothes. Slowly she got up from the bed and began to rummage through his things, tossing them onto the bed as she did.

She rifled his drawers until she found a pair of scissors in his desk. Then she set about shortening the length of what she maliciously hoped as his best pair of pants. They came just to her ankles when she put them on and the waist was many sizes too big. This she solved by using a strip of cloth as a sash. She put on an oversize shirt and tied it at her waist. Only then did she think of her hair. She could never be mistaken for a boy with such wayward curls. Again she returned to the cupboard and searched until she found a seaman's cap. She stuffed her hair beneath the thick wool hat and pulled it down low over her brow and her ears. Since his large boots would not fit her feet, she decided to go barefoot as many of the crew did.

She didn't glance in the mirror, knowing how terrible she must look. But she found comfort in the thought that her disguise would help her find Seth, whether he was aboard or not.

The only places she would be unable to search were the staterooms occupied by Marc and his lady friends, but if necessary she would become friendly with each and every one of them. If Seth was aboard she would find him.

She blew out the lamp and the room was bathed in darkness. Then she went to the door, slid the bolt open as silently as possible, and stuck her head out to look up and down the passageway. There was no sign of anyone.

Not too many people knew the
Belle
as well as Catalina did. She was familiar with every nook and cranny in the hold where someone could be hidden.

Silently she hurried to the stairs leading down into the dark caverns of the boat Then she gingerly began to climb down into the darkness.

❧

As Marc left Catalina he was struck by the thought that he should have stayed with her. He had no idea why except for the fact that he didn't trust her.

As he started to go into China's stateroom another thought tingled through him. He smiled to himself, but he didn't enter her cabin. Instead, he walked down the long passageway to the heavy door that led to the deck. Once he'd gone through it, he crossed to the opposite side of the boat, went through a door that closely resembled the first, walked down another passageway, and then knocked on a stateroom door.

Charlene was surprised to see him, but she smiled invitingly.

"Marc," she said in a velvet voice filled with seductive suggestion, "what a surprise."

"Charlene my sweet, I'd like to ask you to do me a very great favor for which I will reward you with anything you name."

"Anything?" She chuckled.

"Anything."

"It must be difficult."

"No, but you can probably handle it better than anyone I know."

"Come in and tell me exactly what you want."

Marc entered her cabin and closed the door after him. It opened again a half-hour later when both Marc and Charlene stepped out into the passageway.

He slid an arm about her waist and they walked down the hall together. A great deal of money and a few subtle promises had made Charlene agree to spend the night with Travis Sherman ... and to make sure that Catalina knew she had done so.