Lady Vixen (14 page)

It
was fortunate that she couldn't see Saber at the moment, for he was staring at
the back of her head with a narrowed, speculative gaze. He did so for several
seconds but, as Nicole refused to rise to the bait, he shrugged his shoulders
indifferently and walked into his personal quarters.

Nicole
guessed he was getting dressed, preparing to leave the ship. Her mouth felt
dry; she knew that unless Allen appeared soon she would have to stop Saber from
leaving. Surreptitiously her hand slid to the small pistol, and she turned her
head, glancing through the doorway just at the second that Saber, fully
clothed, with the black leather-bound trunk under one arm, wandered back into
the room. Well, she told herself stoutly, the moment has come!

Saber
quirked an eyebrow at her as she rose from her table and walked toward the
outer door. "Leaving, Nick? If you'll wait a minute you can come with
me."

Obviously
unaware
of the treachery that was about to be committed, he paid no further attention
to her. He placed the trunk on his desk and with his back to her, opened it.
After checking the contents, he slammed the lid and locked it. Putting it once
more under his arm, he turned, stopping abruptly as his gaze fell upon Nicole
standing very straight before the door, the pistol held determinedly in her
hand.

"Dear
me," he drawled, almost amused, "does this mean what I think it
does?"

Nicole
swallowed, ignoring his facetious question, and gritted, "Put that trunk
on the desk."

"Certainly.
Whatever you say, m'dear. I
do
hope you're not a nervous person, Nick.
I'd hate for you to accidentally put a hole in me," Saber murmured as he
followed her instructions. The trunk safely deposited on the desk, he leaned
against the edge of it, folded his arms across his chest, and asked, as if
fascinated, "Do we wait for Allen to appear now, or are you doing this on
your own?"

His
words gave her a start, especially that reference to Allen. Had he guessed
their plot? Certainly his tone was undisturbed and Nicole was completely
baffled by his attitude. Fury she had expected, but not this amused
indifference. Her gaze flitted uneasily over his face, noting that while he
appeared at ease, there was a taut line about his mouth and his eyes were
deliberately blank.

"Not
going to answer? Well, that's wise. I see Allen has taught you admirably."
His eyes suddenly left her face and lifted to a point somewhere behind her.
"Ah, here's the good Allen now."

With
relief Nicole swung around toward the door, and in that instant Saber struck.
Nicole had only a second to realize that she had fallen for one of the oldest
tricks in the world. Like iron bands, Saber's arms closed around her, his grip
crushing her hands as he wrestled the pistol from her. Struggling, her hands
flailing against the arms that held her, she fought to escape, but he mastered
her thrashing body effortlessly and pressed her tightly against his chest in a
painful, captive embrace.

"Little
fool!" he breathed in her ear. "Did you really think you could get
away with it?"

Too
infuriated to be frightened, Nicole's eyes went black with rage. "Loose
me!" she spat. "Let me go!"

She
fought silently until she became aware that those strange amber-gold eyes were
staring at her, that his mouth had a satisfied grin on it, and that the hands
that held her securely were almost caressing in their touch. Her head snapped
back in quick suspicion and her eyes widened at what she saw on his face.

"You
know," she said flatly.

If
it were possible, he pulled her even closer, and dizzily she heard his
muttered, "But, of course, little witch," a second before his mouth
closed over hers.

His
breath was smoky, his lips hard as they moved half savagely and half tenderly
on hers. Her senses went spinning at their touch; she was unable to think
clearly as she stood stiffly in his embrace, willing him to release her. After
what seemed like hours, his lips left her bruised mouth and his hold slackened.
A quizzical expression on his face, he inquired, "Is it just me, or is
Allen the only one you share your charms with?"

Tightly,
speaking through her teeth, she snapped, "Why don't you ask him?"

A
heavy black brow tilted. "I intend to, baggage. I intend to ask the good
Allen so many questions!"

As
if on cue the door behind them flew open and two burly seaman, a bloodied and
disheveled Allen held between them, entered the room.

Nicole,
seeing Allen, started toward him, but Saber's hand jerked her back to his side.
"Behave," he threatened softly. "Would you like to join him? I'm
certain the men would enjoy it."

Frozen
by the implication of his words, she remained still, unable to take in exactly
how their plan had failed, or how Saber had known that she was a female. How
long had he known? she wondered sickly. From the beginning? No, surely not—even
he wouldn't have knowingly exposed a child to this crude, often cruel way of
life. Then when? She was dimly aware of the murmur of conversation around her,
but it was Saber's, "Take him below and chain him. I'll tend to him
later," that roused her from her stupor.

"No!"
she screamed, and catching Saber by surprise, she almost twisted from his
bruising hold. His hand tightened hurtfully around her soft arm, and knowing it
was useless to tear at the steel-muscled hand that held her, she viciously
raked one side of his bearded face with her fingernails.

Swearing,
Saber released her, only to catch her other arm and, swinging her around,
struck a blow across her face. Astonished and shaken, she blurted, "You
hit me, you bastard!"

His
eyes gleaming and narrowed, Saber snarled gently, "And I'll hit you again
if you repeat that trick!"

Ignoring
her, he snapped to the gaping seamen, "You heard me, get him out of my
sight! And," he added menacingly, "keep your tongues between your
teeth."

If
Nicole had thought it silent earlier, that silence had been almost thunderous
compared to the one that fell on the room after the men had hurriedly departed,
dragging Allen between them. Nicole refused to look at Saber but remained with
her back to him and stared stonily out the porthole. Her mind was so filled
with confusion at what had happened, and shock and fury at Saber's knowledge of
her sex, that for a moment she felt dull and drained, not quite certain of her
next move. It dawned on her rather painfully, as she stared out the porthole at
the green, white-maned waves that gently rocked the ship, that she wasn't
likely to have any say in what would happen next.

Though
young and personally untouched by passion, Nicole knew more about the animal urgings
that drove men than she should have. She knew Saber wanted her ... his body, as
they had struggled earlier, had betrayed that fact
most
definitely! Even
now she remembered the warmth of him as he had held her prisoner, and most
vividly she could recall the pressure of the hardened shaft of male power that
had leaped to life as their bodies twisted together.

She
swallowed with difficulty, her throat suddenly parched. It seemed unfair, she
thought sadly, that she would become a woman before she'd had the chance to be
a girl. Her thoughts coming to the inescapable, she wondered if Saber would
treat her virginity gently . . . or take her with brute passion. At least she
knew what to expect from him, which was more than did most of the sheltered
girls of her age and breeding. But then, in spite of her bravado, dismayingly
clear and in detail, certain better-forgotten memories of Saber bedding other
women—some in this very room—returned and she swallowed again. She knew he
could be kind because she had seen him so; she also knew he could be an animal,
and she could only hope that he would be tender.

Resigning
herself to her fate, she squared her slim shoulders and slowly turned to face
Saber. He was leaning near the doorway, his eyes narrowed against the thin curl
of smoke that drifted from the cigar. His hair had become disarrayed during
their struggle and a few errant locks fell across his forehead, increasing his
piratical appearance. Meeting his hard eyes across the width of the room, she
was uncomfortably aware of her increased heartbeat. To combat her own
nervousness, she thrust up her chin angrily and kept her voice cool as she
asked, "What do you intend to do with us?"

Smiling
unpleasantly, he said conversationally, "You've handled it all wrong, you
know. Instead of stony silence, you should show all the signs of outraged
innocence and demand to know what the good Allen has done to be in his present
situation. You accepted defeat much too easily. I'm disappointed in you, Nick.
I was certain you would try to brazen it out."

Nicole
stiffened at his provoking manner and, unable to help herself, spat, "What
good would it have done? You obviously knew the whole."

"Hmmm,
true—but never, little vixen,
never
betray so blatantly that you have
lost. You might have convinced me that you were uninvolved with Allen's
attempt. And if we had retained our present relationship, you could have helped
your confederate. Pity you weren't more clever."

Nicole
restrained herself with utmost difficulty and stared resolutely at a point
somewhere above his head, ignoring his goading words.

Saber
smiled to himself. What a stubborn little vixen she was. And how completely
unaware of her own beauty. A feeling of intense satisfaction swept over him as
he continued to stare at her. No longer would he be tantalized half out of his
bed by thoughts of the lovely long-limbed body sleeping a short distance
away—and no more would the memory of her as she rose from the water of Bermuda
return to haunt him!

Who
she was, he didn't care. Why she was here on his ship in disguise interested
him even less. She was a woman, a desirable woman, who had conspired against
him. His eyes narrowed and grew hard at that thought, and for a long moment his
gaze rested on her dark hair, the auburn glints flaming in a shaft of sunlight.
What else could he expect from her, he thought unfairly. Women with red hair,
whatever the shade, were not to be trusted. How well he had learned that
lesson, he thought bitterly. Suddenly Annabelle's face rose up before him . . .
Annabelle of the flaming hair and green eyes . . . Annabelle who had lied and
cheated and schemed his very downfall even as he had laid his young heart at
her feet . . . bitch! Lying, conniving bitch!

Nicole,
still staring beyond him, was growing tired of this wretched uncertainty. She
was
not
going to let him provoke her or frighten her. Unfortunately, she
wasn't adept at hiding her emotions, and her belligerent attitude showed very
clearly on her face.

Seeing
it banished Saber's black memories, and with something approaching laughter, he
drawled, "Do you intend to stay like that forever? I assure you, you'll
become quite bored with it after some hours."

Frostily
she regarded him. "Pray, what else should I do?" Her voice dripped
with ice, and at his quick grin she could have cheerfully thrown a knife at his
head.

He
pushed himself away from the wall and walked slowly over to her. Tipping her
face up to his with one finger, he lowered his head and teasingly caressed her
lips with his. "You sound impatient. Are you so eager for your new duties
to begin?" he murmured against her mouth. Then his lips traveled across
her cheek, and he lightly kissed her ear and said, "Of course, if you wish
it, we can start immediately. It's been a long while since Bermuda, and I can't
think of anyone I would rather have break my enforced celibacy."

Nicole
jerked away from him and flashed, "Not even Louise Huntleigh?"

His
eyes gleamed angry gold between the thick black lashes, and Nicole was aware of
his sudden spurt of hot temper. "We'll leave her out of this!" he
snapped.

Driven
by some inner compulsion, she argued, "Why? Isn't she your mistress? Do
you think she'll be pleased when she discovers you've been toying with
another?"

"You're
very young, aren't you, Nick?" he sneered. Then struck by a new thought,
he asked, "How old
are
you? Certainly not the fifteen you've led me
to believe. While you're at it, you might as well give me your real name too. I
can't continue to call you 'Nick,' can I? Although, I confess that in spite of
everything I probably shall always think of you as Nick."

She
was of two minds about answering him, but they were such unimportant questions
to balk at that resentfully she gave him the answers he wanted.

"Well
now,
Nicole,
another answer if you please. How long have you been
Allen's mistress?"

That
sharply barked question gave Nicole pause. She didn't think he would believe
her if she asserted that she had never been Allen's mistress—or anyone's for
that matter. On the other hand, when he took her, as surely he would, the fact
of her virgin state would be evident. Resignedly she muttered, "I've never
been his mistress."

"My
dear child, do you expect me to swallow that?" he asked scathingly.

Her
eyes
meeting
his, she challenged, "There's one way we can find out, isn't there?"
At the leap of speculation in his eyes she added, "I promise you I'll
fight you, and you can be assured you won't enjoy it!"