The Game (6 page)

“But what will he do with you, then, if he does not wish to use you?” Juliet asked.

Katherine looked into her friend’s eyes. “You do not understand. He has every intention of using me.”

Juliet stared, her brow furrowed, clearly unable to comprehend Katherine.

Katherine had forgotten how naive and sheltered Juliet was. “He intends to seduce me, to make me a willing prisoner of his passion.”

Juliet gasped. Hot pink color flooded her cheeks. “What are you going to do?” Juliet cried.

“I do not know.” Katherine replied. Then, grimly added, “Fight.”

Both girls suddenly froze as they heard the bolt being moved aside. They stared at the door, watching it open slowly. But only a young boy of no more than ten or eleven entered the cabin, carrying a covered tray. Clearly he brought food. The aroma of succulent beef stew made both girls sit
up straighter. Their stomachs rumbled. They had last eaten a light supper in their cabin on the French ship the night before, and already darkness was falling on the day.

The boy glanced at them. “The captain ordered me to bring you something to eat.” His accent marked him as French. He set the tray down on the dining table, whipping off the linens covering it. “You need something, I am Guy.”

Katherine stared at the boy. It disgusted her that the pirate would take on a lad so young. In all likelihood he had been abducted from his home and then sold to the pirate. The boy was far too thin to be healthy. And from the look of him, she doubted he was happy. “Thank you, Master Guy.”

He scowled. “’Tis Guy, nothing more.”

“Guy,” Katherine called, before he could leave. “Where is this ship headed?”

“North.” He turned and started for the door.

Liam O’Neill launched himself off of it, startling Katherine. She had not heard him enter. Their glances held for a beat longer than necessary, as if they were intimate lovers, not strangers and enemies. Katherine colored, looking away.

Liam moved to the table but did not sit down. “Come, ladies. ’Tis hearty fare we have here. Boeuf bourguigon, vin rouge, Cook’s freshest baked bread and hot apple tart.”

Katherine wanted to refuse. Juliet glanced at her, also rebellious. But both girls were starving and as one they slid to their feet. Shoulders squared, Katherine crossed the cabin, Juliet following, careful to keep her eyes cast ahead and not on the pirate. She knew he regarded her—only her. She did not fool herself. She knew they were in the midst of a grave war, one she must absolutely win. The hairs at her nape tingled and prickled with unease. She sensed with a sinking heart that the war had hardly begun.

She slid into a chair. It was only after she and Juliet were seated that he took his own place at the table’s head. “Where are you taking us?” she asked.

His hesitation was barely discernible. “I am taking you north, to my island home.”

Katherine lost all interest in her food. She stared at him, hating him. He stared back.

“What about me?” Juliet whispered, breaking the silence which simmered between them.

The pirate did not even look at her. “You will be returned to Cornwall,” he said.

Katherine pushed her plate away. She was agonizingly aware that the sky had turned dusky blue, and that the first stars had emerged into view. Soon he would take her to his bed. Afterward he would take her to his island home.

She was going to have to escape.

When they finished eating and their plates were removed the cabin was uncomfortably silent. Katherine dared to look up. The pirate held a glass of brandy, sipping it, regarding her from under long, dark lashes. In the golden lantern light his eyes gleamed silver. Behind his head she could clearly see the four-poster bed.

Katherine glanced away, too late. He said, “I understand that you two ladies were traveling from a convent.”

Katherine barely looked at him. “Yes.”

“Surely your family did not summon you home?”

Katherine knew he spoke only to her. What did he care? Her hostility increased. “I was not summoned home. But now I know why my father forgot me. His troubles are so vast.” Still, she was upset that neither he nor Eleanor had seen fit to send her the terrible news of his conviction and imprisonment.

“I was summoned home,” Juliet inserted. “And ’twas convenient for Katherine to join me.”

“It is unusual, is it not, for a lady to decide to leave a nunnery without her family’s permission?” The pirate stared at her.

Katherine’s temper erupted. “I decided to take my fate into my own hands. I had no intention of growing old in the nunnery.”

“Indeed,” he murmured, his tone like the stroke of a feather upon her skin.

Katherine flushed, suddenly aware of how disobedient, ungenteel, and independent she must seem. Of course, it
did not matter what he thought. But her tone of voice sounded defensive. “Father did not answer my letters. I did not know of his plight. I only knew I must return to Ireland.”

“Many ladies wish for nothing more than the soft, predictable life of a nunnery.”

She stared. “Not I.”

He smiled at her. It was an arresting moment. His expression was intimate, warm. “I am glad,” he said. “You are by far the most intriguing woman I have ever met, Katherine.”

She clasped her hands in her lap, looking down at them, breathless. He did not even try to hide his desire. He did not care that Juliet was a witness to his intent. He was immoral, despicable—and Katherine was afraid, no matter how she tried to hide it.

And she knew she was hardly intriguing.

His gaze caressed her bent head. Katherine looked up sharply and their gazes collided. Panic bubbled in her breast. Behind his disturbingly handsome face, Katherine kept seeing the bed. How was she to avoid imminent ruin? How?

He smiled. “Lady Juliet, let me escort you to your cabin.”

Juliet tensed and did not move.

Katherine gripped the table. Her eyes were wide, wild. “Surely Juliet stays here—and sleeps with me?”

He rose lazily to his great height. His smile was as languid. But there was nothing casual about the glitter in his smoky eyes. “Lady Juliet?”

Juliet got to her feet, darting Katherine a frightened glance. Katherine found herself standing, begging. “Please. Let Juliet stay here. With me.”

His glance slid from her face down her body. He did not condescend to answer her, instead taking Juliet’s arm and guiding her to the cabin door. Katherine watched in horror. He opened the door, called out to the sailor. Juliet threw one last, despairing glance at Katherine and then she disappeared. The pirate closed the door, slowly turning to face her.

“What will you do with me now?” Katherine cried, no longer trying to hide the panic she was feeling.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the door. “I am going to seduce you, Katherine.”

Katherine tensed in expectation as he suddenly moved toward her. He took his time. He was in no hurry, but then, he was confident of his ultimate victory.

Katherine detested his arrogance as much as she detested everything else about him. She clenched her fists at her sides. It crossed her mind that when she struck his handsome face, she would be deeply satisfied.

“I am not going to murder you,” he murmured, his tone spun silk.

“No, you think but to destroy me instead.”

He smiled at her, reached out to touch her face.

Katherine raised her fists and punched at his cheek and jaw.

He ducked, his reflexes so fast that her knuckles did not even scrape his skin. A second later he had caught both her wrists in his hands, immobilizing her. Amazement showed in his eyes.

She did not move, did not speak, did not dare even to breathe. Her chest heaved. She watched his face, trying to guess what he would do next. She knew he was considering his options carefully.

But he took her by surprise. As quick as a snake, he lifted her under her knees, into his arms. Katherine began to struggle wildly when she saw that he strode to the bed. This was happening much too fast!

He sank down on the plush mattress, Katherine still in his arms. “Sssh,” he said. “Be still. I am only going to kiss you.”

He lied of course, and even if he did not, Katherine had no intention of obeying him. She jerked her head back, so his lips found the soft underside of her throat instead of her mouth. Instantly she knew that had been a grave mistake.

Unruly sensations that were hardly unpleasant swept her as he nibbled and kissed the sensitive skin on her neck. Katherine fought a gasp. She heard him chuckle, then
froze as his hand swept over her breast. Immediately her nipple peaked. Katherine cried out, trying to pull his wrist away.

He ignored her efforts to dislodge him much as he might ignore a buzzing fly, and shifted her onto her back upon the bed, leaning over her, his mouth claiming hers before she could move or protest. Katherine struggled even more, digging her fingernails into his collarbone to keep him away. He did not seem to notice. He was vastly patient. His mouth was exceedingly soft and undemanding, stroking her lips lightly, feathering them, teasing them. How expert he was. Unbeknownst to Katherine, her gyrations slowed, then ceased. Her fingers uncurled, her body becoming increasingly pliant. His mouth firmed, taking advantage instantly, the tip of his tongue darting against hers. Unwittingly Katherine’s lips parted.

Liam growled low in his throat, the sound distinctly erotic. Katherine heard a funny, mewling sound escape her as he shifted his heavy male weight on top of her, while deepening his kiss. Katherine was aflame, the fire spreading from her heavy limbs to her throbbing loins. Her body was aching now, her blood pounding, insistent, while her mind did not want to function.

He understood. He laughed against her mouth, the sound sensual, thick, raw. He began to rotate his hips languidly, slowly, caressing her with his shaft. Katherine flung her head back, tearing her mouth from his, crying out. He pressed himself against her far more urgently, far more dangerously.

“Katherine,” he whispered. “Sweetheart.” His hand had insinuated itself under her skirts and petticoats, caressing her thigh through the thin linen of her crotchless drawers. And then his palm swept upward dangerously high, brushing the soft, swollen flesh at the apex there.

Katherine was dazed, but his caress was shocking her back to her senses. Dear God. His thumb was stroking the seam of her lips now, tracing the heavy outline, touching her bare skin.

One coherent thought seized her. She must resist. If she did not resist now, he would do far more than stroke her
where no one had ever trespassed before—he would steal her virtue before she even knew what he was about.

He tore his mouth from hers, gasping her name again. “Katherine.”

Katherine inhaled, forced herself to action. She pounded both fists against his broad shoulders. “No!”

Startled, he froze. His smoky gaze was somewhat unfocused and puzzled as it met hers.

Katherine heaved at his body, and when that failed to dislodge him, she aimed her knee at his bulging groin. He understood her intention at that precise instant, shifting his hips just in time to avoid her attack. In doing so, he was off-balance. Katherine pushed against him hard and rolled and then scrambled away from him, sliding off the side of the bed to the floor.

She herself was dazed and out of breath. She paused only for a moment, but it was a moment too long. As she crouched, about to lunge to her feet, he reached down and gripped a chunk of hair at her nape. Katherine cried out.

He leaned over the bed, his face close to hers, using her hair like a leash. His eyes were wide, incredulous, furious. His mouth was drawn into a tight, angry scowl. Katherine’s lips curled in an answering snarl—but tears filled her gaze.

And as the tears began to fall, unwanted, an affront to her pride, his grip eased. His expression changed. He cursed savagely and released her. Katherine sagged to the floor.

She heard him slide to his feet. She fought for her self-control and finally found it. Hugging herself, she lifted her gaze upward. A mistake. It was impossible not to notice how enlarged he was. Katherine flushed, looked anywhere but at that, wishing she could forget the excitement he had somehow engendered in her own body, wishing she could ignore the unfamiliar and unsteady pounding of her pulse now. “I hate you,” she said raggedly.

“You did not hate me a moment ago.”

The anger and the tension in his tone forced her to meet his gaze. The gray fire in his eyes frightened her. Katherine had never witnessed such stark hunger before. She
shrank back against the leg of the bed. For a moment she could not look away. And because something she was resolved to ignore flared to life inside her, something strong and heated, she cried, “I hated you then just as I hate you now, O’Neill!”

An unpleasant smile formed on his lips. “You are turning a pleasant seduction into something far worse.”

“A
pleasant
seduction?”

“Aye—a seduction pleasant for both of us.” His gaze darkened visibly. “Do not try to deny it.”

Fear stabbed at her as she finally comprehended his entire meaning. “What do you mean, something far worse? Do you threaten me with rape?”

His nostrils flared. “Some
ladies
happen to enjoy a modicum of force. Perhaps you are of that persuasion.”

Katherine’s eyes widened.

“Do not look so surprised. But then I am forgetting that you have been locked away in a convent for six years.” His smile was twisted. “However, before you succumb to hysterics, let me tell you that I do not rape. Not before, not now, not ever. Not even if provoked.”

She did not believe him and she meant to laugh scornfully, but instead, she emitted a choked, pitiful sound. “You just said you were happy to oblige those women who…” She could not continue. She was still shocked to think that some women actually liked it when a man was forceful, brutal. Images assaulted her, images of this golden pirate ravishing a faceless woman who was feverish and eager.

“I can be rough, or I can be gentle. If you but tell me what it is you want.” His eyes held hers.

“I…I want you…to leave me alone.”