ClaimedbytheCaptain (11 page)

“So that’s it then. I am to be discarded at your command,
just as I was seized on your order,” she said, surprising herself with the
force of her words. She followed him, placing her hands on his shoulders. “I
don’t believe I am merely some bit of muslin you toyed with for your amusement.
You’re convinced returning me to my father’s control is in my best interest. Am
I to have no say in the matter?”

He faced her then, his dark gaze locking with hers. “My
decision is final. I will bring you back to the life you deserve. That life is
not with me.”

Peering from the porthole in mute despair, Cathy’s fingers
pressed to her mouth. Watching her blink against the tears glistening in her
eyes, Jason dragged in a breath, then another. She hadn’t wept when he stole
her from under her father’s nose. No, she’d raged and fought with the ferocity
of a tigress. And yet, she now held her back perfectly rigid, looking so tense
she might snap in two, her shallow exhalations betraying her struggle to hold
back tears.
She should be filled with joy. She’s getting what she wanted. By
the next sunset, she’ll be back in the luxury her father’s treacherous dealings
provided.

His gut clenched with the desire to comfort her, but he
couldn’t turn back. If he didn’t put some distance between them, he’d never
have the strength to bring her home. She trusted him. The irony overwhelmed
him. How could she have any faith in him after what he’d done? Cathy should
detest the very sight of him. But she wanted him, despite the sins he’d
committed in the name of vengeance. The realization both thrilled and disturbed
him. There was no place for a woman, even a beautiful, sensual woman like
Cathy, in his life.

Such passion in her touch. In her kiss.
He sensed her
response was for him and him alone. He’d coaxed her secret desires to the
surface. And she’d conjured a need in him unlike any he’d ever felt. She’d left
him wanting her and only her. He’d never allowed himself to care for a woman
beyond the pleasure she might bring him. Until he held Cathy in his arms.

Christ, she held power over him. Power to bring him
pleasure. Power to make him question his actions and feel guilt such as never
before.

Power to make him need her.

He’d been a fool to take her in the first place. His
feelings for Cathy had made him weak. God knows he hadn’t planned to care for
her. He couldn’t allow himself that luxury. Cathy deserved so much more than a
man who was little better than a common pirate, a man who didn’t know from one
day to the next if he’d find himself at the end of a rope. He couldn’t subject
her to the dangerous existence he’d chosen for himself. His fingers clenched as
he pictured her imprisoned against the hulking bastard’s body. Jones would pay
for his treachery, but nothing would erase the memory of Cathy’s pale face and
wide, terror-stricken eyes. He wouldn’t take that chance again.

His gaze swept over her face. Christ, he longed to hold her.
To kiss away the single tear streaming down her cheek. A fist plunged into his
belly, a heaviness as painful as a physical blow. How could he give her up?

There is no choice. Every moment she’s here, she’s in
danger. What madness possessed me to bring her here?

“Taylor will see to your needs until we return to port.”

Pivoting on his heel, he left the cabin. The door closed
quietly behind him. Striding down the galley way with long determined strides,
he ruthlessly set about rectifying his mistake.

Chapter Ten

Six Weeks Later

Edwin Farrell congratulated himself on his uncommonly shrewd
business sense. He’d managed to find a husband for his daughter and settle one
of his largest debts in the process. He nearly danced a jig at the thought. His
worries that Catherine’s scandalous
abduction
had forever tainted her
marriage prospects dissolved with Josiah Wright’s proposal. The old gentleman
had offered a sizable settlement. His luck could not be brighter. His
headstrong daughter would no longer be his concern, and a considerable
financial burden had been lifted from his weary shoulders.

Josiah would be an attentive husband to his daughter, he
told himself, squelching his conscience’s whispered concerns. What did it
matter that Josiah was even older than he was? At twenty-two, Catherine was no
longer in the first blush of womanhood. With her high spirit, she needed a
mature man to rein her in. She could not hope to make a better match for
herself with a younger man. Young men desired lovely faces, docile temperaments
and innocence. Catherine possessed none of these qualities. She was pretty
enough, he supposed, but she was outspoken and far too opinionated, and no man
would assume she still possessed her maidenhead. She’d never confessed the name
or even a description of the man who’d stolen her away, nor had she revealed
where she’d been held. Catherine had simply reappeared in her bed one morning
as suddenly as she’d vanished. Most likely she hadn’t been abducted at all, but
had run off for a fling with some randy young buck to whom she’d taken a fancy.
Edwin shook his head as he stared down at his ledger and scratched in another
entry. Only a fool would believe Catherine a virgin after nearly a week away
from his watchful eye.

This is for the best. She’ll see that in time.
Josiah
would be patient with her. Catherine would give him the heir he’d craved
throughout his marriage to a barren shrew. Liza Wright had left this world a
few months earlier, leaving her widower in avid pursuit of a young, fertile
wife. Catherine would benefit greatly from his wisdom, and she would learn to
be a good wife to Josiah.

* * * * *

Catherine selected a gown made of pale peach silk to wear on
her wedding day. Her fingers shaking, she methodically moved through the
motions of preparing for the ceremony. How would she survive condemnation to a
living purgatory? After the nights she’d spent with Jason, how could she resign
herself to warming the bed of a cold-eyed old man with a half-dozen teeth left
in his grizzled head?

Unable to contain her misery any longer, she sank to the
edge of the bed. Brushing away the salty drops, she composed herself, wiped the
tear stains from her face and began to arrange her hair. The unruly strands
resisted her best efforts to sweep the copper mane into a soft bun. After a
brief struggle, she pinned the thick tresses into place and lifted her hand
mirror to survey the results. Gazing at her reflection, she saw a stranger who
would soon be the bride of her father’s largest creditor. She was his to
barter, and her father had negotiated quite a bargain for himself.

By nightfall she would be married to a man who had buried
three wives, a man who desired an heir above all else. He was a squat, hairy
troll whose breath smelled of decaying teeth and cheap rum. Josiah Wright’s
courtship consisted of scrutinizing her from head to toe, cupping her bottom in
his hands, and haggling over the terms of the marriage with her father.

“Catherine, don’t dawdle, girl,” her father’s voice boomed
through the door. “You don’t want to keep him waiting.”

She smiled wanly. It seemed even her father couldn’t bring
himself to refer to the man she would marry by his given name.

“No, you wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.” A deep male
voice, husky and sensuous, unleashed waves of longing through her body. Cathy
froze, convinced she was on the verge of losing her mind. Had the prospect of
marriage to Josiah Wright shattered her sanity?

A low, throaty laugh warmed her heart. “You act as if you’re
in the presence of a ghost.”

She whirled around. Arms folded casually, Jason Kane lounged
by the window. The satisfied smile on his lips betrayed his amusement. Her
pulse raced at the sight. Dressed in black from head to toe, he regarded her as
though appearing in her bedroom on her wedding day was an ordinary occurrence.

“Are you afraid of specters, my love?” he asked, closing the
distance between them.

She met his words with a wary stare. Would she be able to
hide the longing in her soul? “Do I have cause to be?” she asked finally.

He toyed with her auburn curls. “Possibly.” His fingers
trailed a path to her mouth. “I hear you are to be married.”

She nodded and lowered her gaze. She couldn’t bear to let
him see her tears.

“I can’t let that happen.” Jason’s smooth tones sheathed a
lethal edge.

Emotion choked her. “I have no choice,” she said finally.
“My father arranged the terms. He will benefit considerably when I speak my
vows.”

Jason gripped her upper arms without violence, dragging her
to him, crushing her softness to the hard planes of his chest. Cathy thrilled
to the steady beat of his heart. Her senses drank in the feel of him, the heady
masculine scent that was his alone. “I will not let you marry that old lecher,”
he breathed against the tender column of her throat.

The warmth of hope washed over her. But caution and fear
reined in her joy. She faced him skeptically. “Am I to be a pawn in your
revenge yet again?”

Holding her close, he kissed her, his tongue mingling with
hers in gentle possession, inflaming her senses with his potent need. Her
heartbeat thudded against her chest in delicious anticipation.

He released her, his breath ragged against her nape. “I’m
taking you with me, but this has nothing to do with revenge.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, burying her face
against the unyielding plane of his chest.

His hands cupped her bottom, pressing her to the
indisputable evidence of his male hunger. Heat enveloped her. “I want you with
me, Catherine.”

“Am I to be your prisoner then?” Her voice grew stronger.
She needed to know he valued her as something more than the spoils of his quest
for revenge.

Jason’s eyes filled with a yearning she’d never dreamed he
possessed. “No, Cathy. Not a prisoner.”

“And if I refuse?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“Then I will simply have to convince you,” he murmured
against her ear, nipping her lobe between his teeth. His lips trailed a fiery
path down her throat. “I want you with me. In my arms. In my bed.”

Heat filled her entire body. She wanted him with every fiber
of her being. But how cold she believe he cared for her? The idea seemed little
more than a foolish hope. She steeled herself to resist him. “I can’t do this.
Papa would never forgive me.”

His gaze darkened dangerously. “Your father was willing to
sell you to the highest bidder.”

“There are many women who would willingly become your
mistress.” She bit off the words between her teeth. “You don’t need me.”

He pressed desperate kisses against her flesh, devouring her
resistance, as hungry for her touch as a man condemned to a diet of bread and
water who’d stumbled upon a king’s feast.

“You’re wrong, Cathy. I need you more than I’ve ever needed
anyone in my life.” His voice sounded low and raw. “I couldn’t stop thinking
about you.”

She wriggled against him, struggling against his embrace.
Giving in to him would be dangerous. If he broke her heart again, she doubted
she’d survive it.

Seeming to read her apprehension, he took hold of her
shoulders and tipped her chin so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “I
need you, Cathy. Only you…” He paused for a moment, scanning her face for a
hint of her reaction. “You will be my wife. If I have to carry you off and make
love to you every day until you agree to speak the vows, you will be mine.”

“Wife?” Cathy echoed.

“Wife.” Jason’s broad smile caressed her as surely as his
touch. “After all, I can’t have you worrying about being a respectable woman.”

Emboldened by her joy, she issued a challenge. “Will you
take me away then, Captain Kane?”

Without another word, he swept her into his arms and carried
her to the window. He swung a booted leg over the ledge and wrapped his strong
hands around her waist.

“I doubt this will conjure a romantic memory in our dotage,”
he chuckled as he lifted her up and rested her over his shoulder.

Dizzy with joy and love, she laughed. “This will stand
vividly in my memory.”

When his feet landed on the ground, he strode confidently to
his ebony stallion. Jason settled her on the saddle, allowing her legs to hang
freely over the side, then joined her there. His arm coiled around her middle
while his strong legs flanked her bottom.

“I should be thankful your gown is of the classical style.
If you’d worn a more cumbersome garment, I would have needed to tear it right
from your body.”

Cathy’s heart seemed to skip a beat. “I’d prefer you save
that act for a time when it may be savored.”

His warm breath tingling against her neck, he spurred his
mount to a furious pace. Jason’s hold tightened. Drawn tightly to him, her
bottom pressed against his erect shaft. She twisted a bit, coiling her arms
around his shoulders. Cathy drank him in. With thick, dark stubble edging his
jaw and his eyes the deep, rich hue of mahogany, he might indeed have been a
fallen angel seeking redemption—redemption he’d find in her trust…in her love.

“Captain Kane, now that you have me, what will you do?”

His mouth slanted over hers, his kiss fleeting and tender.
“I’ll love, you, Cathy. Now and forever.”