Her smile as she accepted the soft shirt made his unruly cock twitch again. She evidently didn’t find it strange he seemed to know her skin was unusually sensitive.
“Oh that feels so good. It will be heaven to have something soft to wear. Every garment they gave me in Constantinople was soft, actually, but so, so suggestive. I appreciate something that’s not meant to be too revealing. Thank you once again. You’re such a wonderful man.”
Her admiring look almost cast him into gloom. He didn’t want admiration from her. Well, he desired it, but only as an adjunct to something much deeper and richer. Startled, he realized he’d like more from this one girl than he’d ever even contemplated with another. And she wasn’t ready. With her sad experiences, he wondered if she would ever trust a male again.
“Your yacht is luxurious. I’m sorry I didn’t see the name when we boarded. I fear I wasn’t myself. Does it have a name?”
“Of course.
Angelina
. Because she handles like an angel.”
She smiled at him and then looked down at the hands twisting in her lap. With a hesitant air, she started to speak again. “I have much I want to talk to you about, but could you step outside for a moment? I can’t wait to get this soft shirt on.”
Lars smiled at her as warmly as he could. If he dwelled on the image of her stripping down to her skin and putting on his shirt he’d get so stiff he wouldn’t be able to walk. He turned and left the cabin, leaning against the wall outside while he waited to be called back in. The moment she said she was ready he returned. She stood smiling in front of him, his shirt reaching below her hips, her shapely legs bare.
He prayed he could keep her eyes on his face, instead of between his legs.
She took his hand and kissed it. “Oh this shirt feels so good. I couldn’t bear to put on that scratchy robe. This is more covering than I had as a slave. You are wonderful, Lars.”
“I’m glad you’re pleased, Sophia. But we’ve got to find you something warmer before you go on deck. We’re nearing the passage from the sea to the ocean and it’s getting colder.”
He didn’t mention his men would riot to see who could get to her first if she appeared as she was. Fortunately the waters of the Atlantic would be colder as they rounded from the waters of the Mediterranean into the ocean so he had a legitimate excuse to cover her more than she was.
She looked up at him, her eyes anxious and yet hopeful.
“I so long for fresh air. Your cabin is luxurious, sir, but I feel a little confined.”
“Lars,” he corrected automatically, even as he thought. He had a sinking feeling that even the deck boy’s garments wouldn’t do much to diminish her unstudied sexual appeal.
“I can think of only one solution. If we wrap a blanket securely around you we could possibly keep you warm and still shield you from unwanted appreciation. My men are handpicked and trustworthy, but you, my dear, are quite strikingly beautiful.”
Sophia turned a lovely shade of rose. “No one has ever told me that.”
Dammit, she even blushed more seductively than any female he’d seen.
His astonishment was unfeigned. “I believe you, but it’s hard to understand. You truly are lovely.”
Her color didn’t fade, but she faced him squarely. “I haven’t been out in public too often, Lars. I helped my father as much as I could, and went to the mathematics meetings in case he needed me there, but I stayed in the background. His reputation was of prime importance to me.” She flashed a sudden smile. “I’ll put your remarks down to poor eyesight or poor judgment, if you wish, but I desire no attention in any way.”
Lars took a moment to digest this strange speech. Translating it wasn’t hard. She was the driving mind behind her father, although he’d undoubtedly been brilliant too. She’d subjugated her life to his reputation because she wanted it that way. Or had her father insisted? Doubtless she’d done everything she could to mask her beauty as well as her brains. He should have entered her mind a long time ago and found out the truth, but perhaps it was better to have her volunteer her trust. Sighing inwardly, he thought he could hardly pounce on her right at this minute, although he longed to take her in his arms and caress away her doubts.
“Can you tell me how you came to be a slave?”
He already knew most of this, but he wanted her to tell him of her own accord.
“Of course. Stephen Mallory is my father’s chief rival and has been jealous of him for years. He called on Father when I wasn’t home. I don’t know what started the quarrel, but I walked in on them just as Mallory stabbed him and he fell to the ground, motionless. I knew instantly my father was dead. I started to scream, I think, and remember rushing at the monster. The next thing I knew I woke up with a dreadful headache in a small cabin on a filthy ship. My captor was the slave trader you saw at the auction when he led me in. I tried not eating or drinking, but they’d force me to take in enough to stay alive. Come to think of it, I’ve never had such a nice thin figure, so it wasn’t all bad.”
He struggled with a blazing anger that left him incoherent. This beautiful, brilliant and innocent girl, subjected to weeks of despair and degradation, all for the ambition of one miserable bastard. A bastard who’d pay to the fullest. Lars would see to it personally.
He’d known it was something like that, and there was only one path for him to take. Now he needed to track down a murderer. Who was also a depraved pimp of the worst kind.
He shut his eyes to concentrate on his self-control and only opened them when he felt a soft hand pat his face.
“Lars, don’t look so. It’s over, thanks to you. I’ll be forever grateful for your kindness.”
Lars opened his eyes, seeing her beautiful eyes showing deep concern for him, with no trace of pity for herself. He grabbed her to him, taking her lovely face in his hands and kissing her as he’d long wanted to do. Not as the father-figure he feared she was beginning to think him, but as a lover in almost frantic haste to claim his love. A lover bent on taking some of the pleasure she alone could give him, while showing her how deeply he felt.
He cupped his hands around her expectant face, glorying as she looked at his with wide eyes, not knowing what came next but not at all reluctant to find out. He almost groaned aloud with the knowledge he’d be the first to touch her in the secret places that could yield her pleasure she’d not imagined. He’d be the first to see her quivering as she neared her woman’s ecstasy, as he caressed every beautiful curve and then touched her in her most intimate places. He’d neglect no part of her body, not her perfectly formed arms, not her lovely legs, not even the tips of her toes. And then he’d enter her and take her to a paradise she’d never imagined.
Her eyes flared, he hoped with pleasure as well as surprise, and she leaned into his kiss. Inexpertly, as he’d suspected. Trying to match his movements but knowing none of her own. Had all the men surrounding her father been blind? Or hadn’t she even seen the glances she must have attracted wherever she went?
He kissed her one last lingering time and took her reluctant arms from around his neck. Holding her hands and smiling at her expression of disappointment, he kissed her fingers.
“Sophia, you are pure delight. There’s nothing in this world I’d like better than to continue this to its enchanting end.”
“Then why don’t you, Lars? I much liked what you were doing. I’ve never had this kind of feeling. It makes me feel all shaky but as if I again have a place where I belong.”
Her throaty voice and heated eyes nearly broke him. His rigid erection grew even harder at her words. A feat he would have thought impossible, considering the state he was already in. If he’d been naked his cock would surely reach his stomach.
“Sophia, I want you as much as any man ever wanted any woman, but I’ll not have you give yourself to me out of gratitude.”
She traced her fingers over his lips, slowly and with a sensuousness that nearly shattered him. “I don’t think what I’m feeling is gratitude, Lars. No, I’m sure it isn’t.”
Her serious look made him again wonder if he possessed the strength to walk away.
“You’re influenced by the unusual sexual rapport we undoubtedly have. I thank the gods for it, but I don’t think you realize how unusual it is. But even that’s not enough. Your emotions are doubtless rampant now in the euphoria of your escape. You’re a virgin. This is all new to you. I won’t take your innocence from you in a moment of lust, no matter how strong my desire.”
She said nothing for a while. Nothing to give him hope, but nothing to send him into despair. She simply stared at him, and then finally held out her hand.
“May we now go on deck? I’ll gladly wrap a blanket around me in exchange for fresh air.”
Lars handed her the blanket and watched as she carefully covered all her delicious curves. When her beauty was as concealed as possible, he went to the cabin door and held it open. Still her pale gold hair streamed down her back and he hated to send her back to bind it. Sophia marched through like a queen. Grinning, Lars followed her as she left the cabin. Keeping the blanket from slipping obviously was giving her difficulty, so he ducked into his cabin, got two of his ties and handed them to her. The last thing he wanted right then was his men realizing her true beauty.
She thanked him with a regal nod and a smile that made him long to yank her back to the cabin. She paused long enough to knot the ties together to use as a belt and then proceeded on her royal march.
Still grinning, he followed her. Her back was as straight as a board. He pitied the poor sailor who made a lewd remark when she appeared on deck.
* * * * *
There were no lewd remarks, but plenty of lascivious glances. Every man on board seemed to be eyeing her. Several men started toward them, but Lars froze them in their place with an icy glare. He moved beside her and took her hand, tucking it in his bent arm.
“Will you walk around the deck with me, my sweet lady? I’d like to show you how well my crew takes care of the yacht.”
He spoke loudly enough that all on deck could hear him. He noticed Sophia’s little smile, and let his eyes lose some of the glare he’d directed at his men. Every man on deck understood he was declaring this girl as his special interest, and almost all of them turned back to their tasks. Only one, a hulk of a dark-bearded man, kept his eyes on Lars and Sophia as they started their promenade. Lars noted him and shot him a warning glance that caused him to lower his eyes.
Lars was proud of his ship, and so he pointed out the mahogany decks, the shining brass rails, all the fine touches meaning so much to him. Sophia listened attentively, asking questions whenever he paused. Finally he realized he’d been doing almost all the talking.
The day was mild, and the waves cresting in their wake were snow-tipped but gentle. The sun had already lost its desert heat and shone brilliantly as it neared its zenith. As lovely a day at sea as he could remember, but Lars was interested only in the girl on his arm.
He patted her hand and smiled down at her.
“Forgive me for being so boring. Tell me about your name. Sophia is a beautiful name, but why did your parents choose it? It has a French ring to it. Or maybe Italian?”
“You’re very clever, aren’t you, Lars?” Her great eyes stared into his, but he could read little in them beyond curiosity. Well, perhaps a tiny flare in the back of her eyes, but it would be unwise to keep staring at her with all his men watching.
“Not so clever,” he said. “But I would like to know every bit about you.”
She shrugged. “There is a little story to my name, but I’m not sure if it’s interesting to you. Did you ever hear of Sophia Germain?”
He thought a moment. “I believe I have. She worked with numbers theory, as I recall, and is regarded as a true mathematical genius. But I thought her name was Sophie.”
“Ah, there’s the rub. She was known by both, but my father was adamant about Sophia, and I prefer Sophie. I’m named after her though.”
He stopped and kissed her forehead. Everything she did was irresistible. Let his crew gawk all they wanted. He’d make it plain this girl was his, and therefore inviolate.
“Then I shall call you Sophie, unless we’re at some grand occasion that calls for Sophia. She died earlier this century, I believe. I don’t know much else about her.”
Sophie grinned up at him. “Have you visited the Eiffel Tower?”
“Of course.” Lars was puzzled at the switch of topic.
Sophie gave a crow of laughter. “Sophia’s theory of elasticity is what enabled it to be built. We women are not stupid, you know.”
Lars gave her a little shake. “You have no call to accuse me of making such an assumption, my dear. Now let us resume our tour. You’ve seen the masts and the sails and the deck my crew keep so well polished. Would you like to go below again and see the steam engines?”
He wanted to get her below and out of sight of the crew. He didn’t like the way that one big deckhand stared at her. He’d best keep an eye on him. Damn, he’d thought that blanket protection enough. He should have known her face and hair would attract any male on earth. How the hell had her father kept such a gorgeous treasure under wraps?
* * * * *
Lars walked her back to his cabin, showed her where he kept some books under his bed and left her already engrossed in one. The book described a complicated method of navigation, but he guessed she was the type who enjoyed reading anything. He resumed thinking furiously how best to protect her. His plans about dressing her in the cabin boy’s clothes seemed riskier than he’d expected. If the men couldn’t take their eyes off her when she was draped in a blanket, he hated to think of their reaction to seeing the curves he imagined a boy’s pants would emphasize. They’d walked past the small-sized clothes pinned to a cord and flapping in the brisk breeze. Perhaps he’d see if they were dry and take them to her. And then they’d decide.