Lady Vixen (15 page)

"What?
Not enjoy being the first!" he mocked. "You
are
awfully young
if you think that. Virginity in his woman is highly prized by a man."

"But
I'm not
your
woman, am I?" she shot back, angry and yet strangely
exhilarated.

"No,"
he replied with a small smile lurking about his mouth. "Not at the moment!
And we haven't proved the truth of your claim either. I must admit I find it
hard to believe that Allen hasn't taken advantage of your accessibility. Of
course," he finished lightly, "I'm willing to be shown
otherwise."

Ignoring
the taunt in his voice and feeling it was prudent to change the subject, she
demanded, "What do you plan to do with Allen?"

The
smile left his lips instantly, and his features fell into their familiar hard,
implacable lines. Coldly he stated, "It would be best for you to forget
Allen. He is no good to you now."

"Forget
him? You must be mad! I love him! I cannot push him away as if nothing
happened!" she cried, impassioned.

"You
love him?" he inquired dryly. "A moment ago you claimed you were not
lovers. Make up your mind, Nick. Which is it?"

"Damn
you! You twist everything I say. I shall not tell you anything more. Make
whatever conclusions you wish." Resentfully she ended, "You will
anyway."

Nicole's
eyes were nearly black with distress as she hurled the words at him, but he
appeared unmoved by her outburst, watching her as though she were an amusing
child. Goaded by his actions, Nicole stamped a foot with rage, and her hands on
her hips, she shouted, "God damn you, Saber! Don't just sit there! Answer
my question. What do you intend to do with Allen?"

A
laugh burst from him and he mocked, "Aren't you forgetting that I'm the
one in the position to do the asking. Calm down, little hothead."

Gritting
her teeth, Nicole fumed with impotent rage. How dare he remain so cool, so
unemotional, when he had turned her world upside down and imprisoned Allen,
Allen who had saved her life at the risk of his own! She spun on her heels,
intent upon slamming from the room, but Saber's voice, no longer amused, halted
her.

"Sit
down, Nick. You're not going anywhere, at least not at the moment.

"Your
loyalty to your . . . er . . . confederate, while admirable, is unnecessary. He
is perfectly capable of fending for himself. YOU are not! If I didn't desire
you myself—God knows why—you would be chained in the hold with him. You
would," he added deliberately, "also hang with him."

Shocked,
Nicole cried, "You can't hang him! You have no right!"

Imperturbably
he replied, "
I
will not hang him. That task will be left to the
authorities at New Orleans." His voice hardening, he went on, "Your
precious Allen is an agent for the British."

"How
do you know? You have no proof!"

"I
don't need any proof. I happen to know he is a member of the British Royal
Navy—a captain, in fact. In case you've forgotten it, America is at war with
England. Even if he had not tried to steal the code book, his being found on
board my ship could hang him."

"What
can you tell? Allen has done nothing while on your ship. You cannot even prove
he was doing any wrong today," Nicole said scornfully, hiding the fear
that clutched at her heart.

Saber
took a deep breath and quelled the desire to turn her over his knee and beat
some sense into her. She didn't seem to realize the seriousness of her
position, and her blind faith in Allen annoyed him considerably. "Allen
was a member of the crew on two other American ships before he joined
La
Belle Garce.
Would you say it was a bit of a coincidence that both his
previous ships were taken by the British within days after he came aboard and
that both times Mr. Ballard miraculously escaped, only to reappear on another
United States ship?"

A
shaken Nicole squirmed in her chair, but hung on to her aggressive attitude.
"You're making it up to discredit him. Besides," she persisted,
"why would a captain in the British Navy remain on
La Belle Garce?
We're
a civilian ship—we don't carry military secrets."

Saber
almost smiled at her possessive reference to the ship, but his voice gave no
hint of his thoughts as he replied, "Allen is not a fool! He had only to
remain safely undetected on
La Belle Garce
and supply his superiors with
sailing dates and routes of other privateers."

At
Nicole's look of disbelief, he added, "I too have my own methods of
finding out things. It was a simple task to have a certain . . . er . . .
friend in Jamaica inquire briefly after a supposed crony in the Navy. Naturally
no hint was given as to -Allen's orders or his whereabouts, but the information
received revealed clearly that the Admiralty Office in London thinks very
highly of young Captain Allen Ballard."

Appalled
and not a little distressed to think that Allen actually was the spy she had
suspected, Nicole paled. She had no doubt that Saber would present his
information to the proper authorities and Allen would hang! For the moment her
own peril took second place to Allen's greater danger, and she studied Saber
with consideration.

He
was, from all appearances, unmoved by the day's events, almost disinterested.
If it had suited him for Allen to remain on his ship, he would have allowed him
to do so, just as he would have ignored her own disguise indefinitely. She
wasn't positive of her own role, but suspected that he had grown bored with the
situation and had decided to end it. She had the inner conviction that his
desire for her had been a final factor, and she sought a way in which to turn
his possible passion for her into an advantage. She asked carefully, "If
it were beneficial to you, would you forget about Allen's identity and allow
him to escape?"

"My
dear Nick," he asked quizzically, "are you attempting to bribe
me?"

She
nodded slowly, a sense of excitement coursing through her veins. But Saber
shattered her mood by laughing cruelly, "What have you to offer? You're
penniless, and I don't believe Allen is in position to bargain with me."

It
was a delicate situation and Nicole was playing on the very risky assumption
that Saber desired her willing, instead of kicking and clawing. It was all too
true, but taking a deep breath she said boldly, "I have nothing to offer
except myself. I propose a trade—
I
come to your bed willingly and remain
as long as you will, and
you
release Allen—you have my word on it!"

Nicole's
wild proposal left Saber nonplussed. After several unnerving moments, he asked
curiously, "Are you saying you'll become my mistress, if I release
Ballard?"

"Exactly!"
she said with more confidence than she really felt.

For
a long minute Saber's gaze traveled slowly over her body. Unconsciously she
stiffened with anger at his blatant appraisal of her body, and forgetting
herself, she lifted her chin angrily and snapped, "Well, is it a bargain?"

A
slight mocking smile curving his mouth, Saber moved away from the desk and
walked unhurriedly up to her, his body warm and hard as he pulled her slowly
into his arms. Nicole was conscious of a trembling in her legs that had nothing
to do with fear.

"Why
not?" he murmured and then his mouth, seeking and exploring, covered hers.

Telling
herself she was doing this for Allen, Nicole stood unresisting and uncertain in
Saber's arms. Her lips were soft and untaught under Saber's, and after a second
he raised his head and teased, "You'll have to do better than that,
Nick."

Incurably
honest and slightly nettled, Nicole shot back, "How can I, when I don't
know what I'm supposed to do?"

One
eyebrow flew up again, this time in derisive disbelief. "Are you going to
continue this virginal pretense? I wouldn't if I were you. I saw you that
afternoon when you met Allen at the lagoon, and I was witness to your eager
embrace. Don't ever, my dear Nick, play me for a fool."

Grimly
she said, "I'm telling the truth, and I would be silly indeed to attempt
to deceive you about something that can be so easily proved."

She
watched the dark bearded features closely and wished he were not so adept at
hiding his emotions.

What
was going on behind those inscrutable amber-gold eyes? His face did not betray
him, and Nicole stirred uneasily in his arms as the seconds passed and he
remained silent. Finally he said quietly, "There's only one way to find
out, isn't there?"

Nicole
nodded slowly, her heart thumping madly. Watching her face intently, Saber
released her and said abruptly, "We'll leave here." A sudden grin
creased his face, and with a wicked glance at her he added, "I foresee a
very pleasurable respite for us."

Nicole
said nothing. He had accepted her rash offer and she was committed to seeing it
through. At least she had the comfort of knowing Allen was saved. She
remembered uneasily that Saber hadn't agreed exactly, but had only implied in
so many words that he did.

Her
troubled gaze fell upon the trunk as he placed it on his shoulder; seeing her
interest, Saber smiled coldly and said unkindly, "It wouldn't have done
any good at all, Nick. Those code books left the ship this morning while you
were in the storeroom for me. Higgins should be a good way down the road to New
Orleans with them by now."

Nicole
went white, and nearly stuttering with rage, she demanded, "H-h-how could
they be? You never went near the safe this morning."

"You're
not as clever as you think, Nick. It was a simple task to remove them last
night and entrust them to the first mate this morning. A very
loyal
individual
is Higgins," he finished in that irritating drawling manner of his.

Nicole
felt a sweep of guilt at the emphasis on loyal, but she hated the sarcastic
inflection in his voice, and keeping her body as stiff and unyielding as
possible, she let him propel her out of the room. The deck was deserted except
for a few necessary crewmen who were standing idly about.

No
one spoke as the dinghy was lowered and they clambered aboard. It was a silent
journey to the shore; the creaking of the oarlocks, the swish of the waves, and
the occasional cry of a gull were the only sounds in the salt-scented sea air.

Saber
paid little attention to Nicole, and for a second as they walked away from the
dinghy, she contemplated making a sprint away from the beach and into the
safety of the palm-thatched buildings that lay just beyond the fringe of trees.

"I
wouldn't try it if I was you, Nick." Saber's cold warning caused her to
nearly stumble in the sand, and quelling the unnerving thought that he must
have read her mind, she inquired innocently, "Whatever do you mean?"

He
gave a grating laugh. "You know very well what I mean! Stop trying to gull
me." Deliberately he added, "Remember poor Allen."

Dispiritedly
she acknowledged she
had
almost forgotten Allen, and with a twinge of
regret she put aside the thought of escape.

Some
hours later, as they drifted up to a small pier, Nicole realized that she had
been lost in her own thoughts as they slowly traveled up the black murky waters
of the bayou. She sat staring blindly at the huge cypress trees with their
trailing, ghostlike veils of gray moss. With a start of surprise she noticed
that they had reached their probable destination, and like one awakening from
an unpleasant dream, she shook herself mentally and assumed a mask of calmness
to hide her inner turmoil.

Thibodaux
House was an old plantation. It had been wrested from the antediluvian
wilderness when New Orleans was just a cluster of wooden shacks huddled
together along a swampy, fever-infested bend of the muddy Mississippi River.
Where there once had been swamp and forests of cypress and water oaks, now
fields of cotton and sugarcane stretched to the very banks of the levees that
held back the river and the constantly shifting bayous, which would have
eagerly engulfed and covered the land again.

The
original house had long since been destroyed, and another more elegant dwelling
had replaced it. The present house was less than twenty years old, and yet the
massive oaks that lined the broad avenue leading to it were nearly a century
old. Their huge knotted limbs almost met overhead, and from them Spanish moss
hung like a soft gray-green mist, creating a long, shady arch through which
Nicole and Saber traveled. The avenue ended abruptly and there before them
stood Thibodaux House, majestic in the winter sunlight. Magnolias, pecans, and
the ever-present oaks were scattered in studied carelessness near the house,
like a frame for a beautiful painting. And the house, as if aware of its great
beauty, rose in proud splendor from the parklike expanse of emerald lawn that
surrounded it. Galleries, wide and cool, encompassed all sides of the house; a
railing of airy latticework across the upper story was tinted a soft green,
while below the graceful brick-plastered columns that surrounded the lower
floor were an incredibly glistening white. Shutters that adorned the many long,
narrow windows repeated the same soft green of the upper railings, as did the
two staircases at either side of the house.