Crimson Rapture (8 page)

A
shot, but a small whiz against the tremendous roar of wind and rain and sea,
grazed Justin's arm. Moving with a flash of speed, he ducked down, bringing
Christina beneath him while shouting the order to take cover.

"Someone's
a hell of a shot!" Jacob shouted, raising his pistol and searching the
distant deck for the culprit.

"But
not quite good enough," Justin replied just as he spotted the man, leveled
and aimed his pistol.

Another
shot hit one of Justin's men and Katie screamed as the man in front of her
collapsed, blood washing over his face. Seeing Justin kneeling in front of her
about to kill another human being and compelled by something she didn't
understand, Christina cried out, "Nooo!" and jerked his arm just as
his shot fired.

Justin's
shot, a shot that would have proved him every bit as good a marksman as the man
firing from the
Defiant,
ricocheted from the side of the ship just as
lightning cracked furiously and a huge wave collapsed inside the boat, nearly
capsizing it. Nature warned all that the real battle was to be fought with her.

Justin's
gaze found his man, Roberts, lying dead against the side of the boat. He turned
to Christina and in a single sweep of motion, he lifted her up. He held her
hard against his body and forced her terrified gaze to confront the gruesome
sight. "Look at him! You might have been responsible for that!"

Shutting
her eyes tight, she cried in protest, trying desperately to twist from
mercilessly strong arms but Justin held her still, nodded to Jacob, and the
dead man was quickly thrown over the side. Then he turned her to face him and
said what she could not believe.

"I'm
willing to tolerate a lot more from you than I would from any other women, but
I will never tolerate interference in my actions. I'll warn you once; the next
time you elicit my anger the consequences will not be pleasant. Do you
understand?"

And
her nightmare began. She managed to nod through a silent scream. Justin set her
back in the seat. She started trembling with fear. A fear born not of the storm
or its promise of doom but of him. The real Justin Phillips frightened her more
than any storm in heaven or on earth could.

Strong
arms and thick ropes hoisted the lifeboat up the side of the great ship and
Justin instantly became an essential actor in the bustle of activity. Everything
not built into the ship had to be secured to something that was. Jacob and two
other men led the women beneath deck and into a small cabin. Four bunks, a tiny
closet and porthole, that was all.

Each
woman in turn submitted to being tied tightly to a bunk's pole. Christina sat
on the floor with the pole to her back and her legs stretched in front of her,
while Jacob tied a rope around her waist and chest, leaving her arms free. As
he worked to secure each woman in turn, he explained that their small chance of
surviving rested in a slim hope that the masts and sails withstood an
unimaginable force of gale winds just long enough to see the ship through the
center of the storm's eye. "The danger lies in the waves. You'll feel the
ship rock on its side real soon now and this here room will turn upside down.
Don't be afraid now, for we're only in trouble if she don't right herself,
'cause then the next wave will crush her under and, madonna," he shook his
head, "if that happens just say your prayers, ladies, 'cause we all goin'
ta hell for bein' such sinners—present company excluded, of course.

"The
trick is keepin' the ship on keel and knowin' when she goin' under before she
does, then at least the lifeboats might be some hope, if only a slim one. I
swear, though, ladies," he surprised them with a sudden grin as he stood
up, "if there's any chance of seein' the next day, it's with Justin. Young
as he is, he's got the damnedest intuition and the sharpest senses I've ever
watched. He'll know when our time's up.

Jacob
left and for a long while no one had a word to say. They suffered silently as
the monsoon's forces gathered and grew stronger by the minute. The wind howled
savagely, unceasingly, and the ship rocked violently. Eyes widened and faces
paled as the room slowly darkened; the black outside penetrated their small
sanctuary and destroyed any feeling of safety.

Katie
seemed to be getting sicker. She shook visibly as though with chills and this
despite the warm air of the storm. Her pale face was drawn, a ghastly pallor
covered her skin, and Christina was becoming increasingly worried for her.

She
had no idea how long they sat in silence, perhaps an hour or more, but suddenly
the door swung open and in walked Justin. Water fell unnoticed from his person
and he looked taller, even more devastating in the small room. The strain of
the battle showed on his face, making his sharp features harsher somehow. There
was an unmistakable air of anger about him. This was owed to having just lost
his sixth man to the storm, a responsibility he bore himself.

The
anger dissipated when his gaze fell on Christina and he smiled. He called out
behind himself. The largest dog she had ever chanced to lay eyes upon pranced
excitedly into the room. Christina caught a brief flash of mischief in the
small brown eyes just as the huge creature shook its long white and brown fur
and caused the first screams to sound. She might have laughed at the dog's
mischief had not circumstances been so frightfully terrifying, survival so
precarious.

Justin
pushed back his dark hair and wiped the moisture from his face. "Ladies,
may I present my sorry excuse for a dog, Beau. I'm afraid he's going to keep
you company for the duration of this... ah, ordeal. Over there, Beau," he
pointed next to Christina. The dog obediently complied and assumed a sitting
position at her side, and Justin quickly tied a rope through Beau's harness and
secured it around her pole.

He
then knelt in front of her, brushing a stray lock of wet hair from her face.
For a long moment he just stared, wondering how she could still look beautiful
soaking wet and in black widow's rags. "Are you all right,
sweetheart?"

Christina
looked to him with surprise, then uncertainty. He was no longer angry and it
was the voice she loved, the voice she had heard seemingly so very long ago
through that small hole on the deck of the
Defiant.
She smiled weakly,
indeed could not help herself. "Yes, I'm fine," she replied but
looked over to Katie. "I don't think Katie's well, though."

Justin
went to Katie's side and first untied the ropes binding her chest. Marianna
gasped in shock as he tore open the buttons of her worn yellow day dress.
"To hell with propriety, ladies, she's got to breathe." Removing a
jeweled dagger from his belt, he quickly but carefully slid the knife through
her chemise and corset and before a protest could be uttered, he pulled the
offending garment off and tossed it to the side.

Katie
nearly swooned with the new freedom and, for a moment, it seemed to nearly
overwhelm her as she felt the first breath flow through her lifeless body.

"Better?"
Justin asked, and received a smile and quick nod. "Put your head between
your knees and breathe deeply. Someone should be coming soon with bread and
water but I don't advise you to have either for a while."

Returning
to Christina, he knelt in front of her again, bracing on the pole against the
motion of the ship. He removed a shiny gold chain from his neck and placed it
over hers, lifting her long wet hair from beneath. She lifted the tiny gold
whistle to her gaze and stared, dazed by its delicate beauty and workmanship.
The gold was inlaid with sparkling rubies and tiny diamonds, which formed an
exquisite pattern of little flowers and leaves.

"It's...
beautiful," she whispered.

"It
was a present from the queen of Ethiopia," he smiled, "but don't let
its beauty fool you. That is the loudest whistle you will ever hear. If
something happens in here, I want you to blow on it and keep blowing until I
come."

She
nodded and set the small treasure against her bosom, but kept her hand around
it. She looked up at him and was about to thank him but his dark eyes held her
and she felt her heart stop.

"I
don't suppose you've ever been kissed," he half stated, half asked in a
whisper. Alarm instantly lifted on her face. She could not believe the question
much less venture a reply and he chuckled lightly, having no doubt of the
answer. "God forbid I waste what might be my only chance to taste those
lips."

Too
frightened to move or protest, she froze mutely, as his strong hands cupped her
face and he leaned toward her. At first his lips did no more than brush lightly
over hers, filling her with a heady taste of brandy mixed with a salty taste of
the sea. A small shiver leaped through her. Confused, bewildered, she gasped
and, without knowing it, her lips parted to accommodate him.

Justin
needed no other invitation. His lips covered her and his tongue swept
skillfully into a honey sweetness that was her, and for one timeless moment the
world ceased to exist. There were no other people in the room, no storm
threatening them; there was only him and this, the gentle attack of his lips.

It
was not enough for him. He wanted more and the kiss, at first so tender,
probing, compelling, flared with sudden passion. His lips devoured her with
force, and sent a silent cry rising in her throat. Life and will quickly
drained from her and she felt like she was drowning, just drowning, abandoning
herself to what could not be resisted.

Acutely
aware of her surrender, Justin finally broke his kiss but kept the intimate
distance between them as his gaze caressed her with a desire he felt grow by
the instant. And this despite the circumstances. Unleashed tears sparkled like
bright gems in her eyes, making them large and misty, as though painted with
watercolors. He brushed a hand over her flushed cheek and whispered, "God,
how I want you, Christina.

She
crossed her arms protectively over herself and trembled slightly. Not only had
she never known a man and his desire, but she had never imagined such a thing,
and while she had but a vague idea of what it meant, it was enough. Enough to
scare her senseless and she barely managed to say it. "You're scaring me
so..."

"I
know, sweetheart," he said and leaned over her to catch the first tear
with a gentle kiss. "I wish I could tell you there was no reason to be
afraid of me." He stood up reluctantly and almost smiled, leaving without
a glance back.

Numbly,
certain that everyone stared at her in horror, she buried her face in her hands
to hide her tears, suffering a montage of emotions. She felt frightened,
confused, and helpless, terrified by a man she did not know and did not like, a
man she had once held in the highest esteem and considered gentle, thoughtful,
and compassionate, actually likening him to her very own father!

How
could she have been so terribly, terribly mistaken?

Beau
tried desperately to keep his balance as the cabin turned at hear eighty-degree
angles and he howled back at the wind, then barked, warning that he would
fight. Satisfied his message was received, he turned to Christina. He cocked
his head to the side, confused by the emotions she felt, emotions his nature
allowed him to know.

Steadying
himself, Beau placed a heavy paw on her lap, whined, and shifted, leaning his
great weight against her. The dog's unexpected concern broke something deep
inside her and she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in the long
silky fur, crying softly for another time and place gone forever.

The
storm grew in intensity and the monsoon, now like the hands of a wicked child,
played with the proud ocean-going vessel like it was but a small toy. Wind and
sea and rain raged furiously; rain pounded like hard rocks against the deck,
the wind howled with one loud and long scream, and the ship lifted over
fifty-foot mountains of water. The cabin spun nearly upside down.

"Please
Christy, don't cry," Hanna finally cried out in desperation. "We're
all in this together and 'tis bad enough 'avin' to listen ta those two... but
you, Christy, you 'ave to be strong. You're always the strong one."

Christina
looked up in surprise. The room was pitch-black and it came as a mild shock to
realize that the others had known she had been crying but assumed that, like
Katie and Marianna, her distress owed to the imminence of certain death. And
then, only then did she perceive the real danger of the storm.

The
ship jerked violently to its side, the cabin spun upside down, and Marianna
screamed. Holding tight to Beau, Christina held her breath, waiting for the
inevitable lurch back. When it came, Marianna burst into an incoherent fit of
hysteria. "Lord have mercy, 'tis the end—the end! We shall die... die...
I'm too young, I—"

"Quiet!
Hush now!" Elsie screamed back and even louder, causing Marianna to break
into quiet sobs of desperation. "Christy!" Elsie then yelled to be
heard over the storm, "kin you see Katie there? Is she well? I keep
'earing her wretching."

"Katie?
Katie?" Christina called out. There was no answer but she heard pained
rasps coming from her side. One would swear the motion of the ship was just too
violent to cause sickness. "Dear Katie, please try to answer!"