Sea Mistress (27 page)

Seth began once again to caress her, and Bess gasped as desire returned. Recently satiated, it came back with a hunger more forceful than before.

“You were made for me, Lisabeth,” he said, bending to kiss her thigh. “See how you love me?” He transferred his attention to her bud of pleasure. “You do love me, don't you?”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, I love you. I've always loved you!”

“Good,” he growled, and he rose up above her, settling himself upon her soft form. He rose up as he readied himself to enter her. Impatient, she grabbed hold of his staff and guided it on its way home.

“Yes, love,” he said, watching her. “Feel me. Remember me. Remember how I can make you feel.”

She thrust up against him, bringing him deep inside of her, and he groaned and lost control.

“Yes, Seth,” she said in a reversal of roles. “Feel me. Remember me. Remember how I can make you feel.”

She grabbed hold of his buttocks, ground her hips up while contracting her abdomen muscles. Then she too lost control.

They kissed as they writhed against each other. Then, they cried out at the same time, arching toward one another in that one final bid for release, and the world exploded into a million stars, and the ecstasy of their joining consumed their minds as well as their bodies. Sweet heaven.

They lay with limbs entwined as their breathing slowed and their heartbeats returned to normal. Then, sated, they slept.

Bess awoke hours later, aware of an unfamiliar weight about her middle. Memory flooded her as she shifted toward the source of the weight, opening her eyes to study Seth's sleeping face.

He looked boyish and extremely appealing in repose. The harsh lines of his face had been smoothed away, and his mouth, which was often firmed in a straight line or lifted in a twisted smile, was parted, his sensual lips relaxed slightly as if begging to be kissed.

Drawn by the sight, Bess leaned in to kiss him, but then halted, startled by what she was doing— what she had done.

My God,
she thought.
Didn't I learn enough the first time?
Terror invaded her breast as she considered the consequences of their lovemaking. Their marriage was now legally consummated. If Seth chose, she would be bound to him forever.

How could she have been so foolish? Seth was a man whose true mistress was the sea. Why would he want a wife?

Unless . . . unless he had learned she owned E. Metcalfe Co. Somehow found out and wanted to gain control.

Nonsense,
she thought, admiring his upper bare torso. How would he know this? Who would have told him?

Not Reeves. Reeves wasn't speaking to her. His behavior toward Seth was worse, because he mistrusted the captain. He was her friend, and he was worried about her.

But now that the haze of passion had lifted, all the doubts and fears she'd harbored earlier returned to haunt her.

Her gaze moved down to where a blanket draped his male hips. His stomach was visible, flat and brushed with hair; and his arms were muscular and hard.

Her eyes returned to study his face, her attention held by his lips. She recalled all the wonderful things he'd done to her with his lips and his body, and all the wonderful things he'd said while they were making love.

Perhaps she was worrying about nothing. Perhaps he loved her and wanted only to be with her.

His lashes opened, and his blue eyes brightened as they caught her watching him. His mouth curved into a warm smile. “You're awake,” he said.

Her heart began to thump harder. She nodded, her expression solemn.

“What's wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

She shrugged and averted her glance.

Seth rose up on an elbow, reaching for her chin with his other hand. “Look at me, Bess.”

She obeyed, and her eyes must have given away her thoughts, because his scowl deepened.

“You regret what we did,” he said.

She shook her head. “No, no, I—”

“Liar.” He released her abruptly and sat, swinging his legs over the side of the bunk.

Bess felt the loss of his loving attention. “Seth.” She touched his arm, but he flinched away, as if her gentle lover had never been. The pain inside her was unbearable.

“Don't,” she begged. “Don't pull away. Can you blame me if I have doubts? I'm afraid—”

“And I'm not?”

She inhaled sharply. “You're afraid?”

“Shouldn't I be? Haven't I good cause?”

Bess frowned, not understanding.

He stood, looking impatient. “Still thinking only of yourself, eh, Bess?”

She rose, indignant. “What are you talking about?”

Seth tugged on his breeches, and Bess swallowed hard, aroused by the sight of his hard flanks flexing as he bent to insert a leg. “What I mean is that five years ago I wasn't good enough for you, was I? You couldn't wait five months!”

“Five months!” she gasped. “I waited nine! Nine long months, and I thought I'd die of loneliness!”

He stiffened. “Try again, Miss Metcalfe.” He made a face. “Or should I say Mrs. Garret.”

“Seth, I don't understand you. Just what are you accusing me of?”

He wouldn't look at her then, but put on his shirt, buttoning it up with abrupt movements.

“I waited for you. I don't know why you believe I didn't, but I did! I loved you. I always have, damn it!” She turned away, tears filling her eyes, for she had almost believed that things had changed, that she could trust him, that somehow a mistake had been made. An awful, awful mistake . . .

She dressed without looking at him, her eyes blinded by her tears, her sobs stifled in her throat.

Suddenly, Seth grabbed her and pulled her into his embrace. “God, Bess. What we had, what we did, was wonderful, but it's been five years, and something's not right here.”

She looked at him, nodding, regarding him through misty eyes.

He groaned deeply and then kissed her, stealing her breath away, crushing her to him tightly. His head lifted. “To hell with the past,” he growled thickly. “I want you. I want you now!”

And they proceeded to undress in haste, tearing at one another's clothes, kissing each other with desperation.

Someone pounded on the hatch. “Captain! Captain Garret! Land, Captain! We've spied land!”

Seth cursed as he dragged his lips away from Bess's swollen mouth. “Sorry, love,” he said, “but I'm afraid we've run out of time.”

Bess's eyes glimmered as she inclined her head. “Go ahead. I'll be all right.”

He stared down at his shirt, grimacing as he spied a ripped buttonhole.

Bess went to the trunk, took out another shirt for him, handing it to him silently.

“Thank you,” he smiled. “Wife.” He said the last with affection.

She experienced a sharp thrill at the endearment. “Later we'll talk,” she said. There were questions to be answered, doubts to resolve.

He nodded, his face turning solemn, and then after he gave her a brief kiss, he left.

John Reeves was aloft on the ratlines, assisting the crew. Since Bess had married Seth Garret, he'd been unable to bear the pain. He felt betrayed, which he knew was ridiculous, because he and Bess had never had that kind of relationship. But the fact remained that he'd been hurt by her decision for he loved her, had loved her for years and had harbored secret dreams of someday having her as his wife.

He'd barely spoken to her since the vessel had left Pernambuco and Bess was hurt by his seemingly heartless behavior, he realized, but he couldn't help it. Being around her while knowing she was another man's wife, sharing another man's cabin, was too painful for him, so he'd avoided her, speaking to her only when forced, averting his gaze when they'd barely made eye contact.

She had said the marriage was a temporary arrangement, that upon reaching California, it would be annulled. But John had been watching Bess when she was unaware; he'd seen the look in her eyes whenever her husband was around. And she was lying with him. She had to be. What else could the two have been doing when the steward had to call the captain three times before he would answer?

John dreaded their arrival in San Francisco. He was sure everything would change there, that Bess would remain Seth's wife, and he, John Reeves, would no longer be needed as either employee or friend.

He heard the captain's voice below and watched as the man's large strides brought him across the quarter deck to the rail. Garret peered through his spyglass and then said something to the first mate, who had come up behind him. A young seaman was at helm. Pete Rhoades and another sailor were aloft like him on the other masts checking the rigging. The remainder of the “starboard watch” were working on the main deck.

Did Bess realize what she was doing? John wondered worriedly. This distance between them had bothered him more and more. But he wasn't sure how to close it, how to mend the rift that he himself had created.

Bess might have needed him these last weeks, but he'd been indulging in self-pity, and had been a terrible friend. Spying Bess as she came up on the main deck, John realized that he had to apologize. If he couldn't be her lover, he'd be her friend. If it wasn't too late . . .

He stayed aloft for another moment, studying her. Bess's fair hair was secured in its usual knot, but there were several loosened strands that the breeze had picked up to tease about her face.

Should he go to her now? Tell her he was sorry? She happened to look up, and he saw her eyes widen with the discovery of him high on the ratlines.

He waved and then began to descend from the mast, his steps careful, for although he'd been helping the crew for weeks now, and this wasn't his first time above, he was not experienced enough to feel confident.

She was waiting for him at the base of the main mast with fear in her eyes and concern in her expression. “John?” she gasped. “Are you trying to get killed?”

He stared at her, took a full moment to enjoy the sight of her lovely face, before answering her. “And leave you without a friend?”

Her eyes brimmed with tears, and he knew a jolt of pain. “I'm sorry,” he said.

Bess's chest tightened as she gazed at her friend with glistening eyes. “I missed you.”

He nodded, his face solemn.

“You're not going to scold me, are you?” she asked. “I married Seth. Can't you accept my decision?”

He stared into her eyes. “You love him.”

She looked away. “Of course not,” she lied. “I told you—”

“You love him,” he repeated. “I can see it in your face whenever he's near you. And I've caught him watching you, too.”

Bess froze. “Seth watches me?” The thought made her feel giddy.

“Yes,” John admitted reluctantly, turning his gaze away. He sighed, and ran his hand impatiently through his graying hair. When he looked at her again, his face was full of apology. “I'm the worst kind of friend.”

She was silent, and he continued. “I've been neglecting you when you might have needed me most. I was upset, hurt.” He inhaled and then exhaled sharply. “I'm sorry.”

Bess touched his arm. “Forgiven,” she said. “You were concerned about me, I understand that.”

“I was in love with you.” The truth rushed out before he could stop it. “I still am, but it's all right. I can handle it now.”

“Oh, John . . .”

He shook his head, waving her to silence. “As long as I know you're happy, I'll be fine. You love him—I was right, wasn't I?”

She nodded and blinked against misty eyes. “I don't know how he feels about me.”

John's features darkened. “You think he seduced you without love? Stole your virginity?”

She blushed. “I never said he seduced me.”

“But you slept with him.”

“We share the same cabin,” she pointed out, feeling her face stain a darker red.

“That's not what I'm referring to, and well you know it.”

Bess glanced about to see if anyone could hear them, but there was no one near. “He . . . wants me. He desires me.”

“You surrendered yourself without knowing his feelings?” John asked with disbelief. “You barely know the man and yet you—”

She was angry. “I've known him a long time. Longer than you know.” She paused. “And who said I was a virgin?”

John turned pale. “I see.”

And she thought she detected condemnation in his brown gaze. “Seth and I were lovers once before. We had planned to marry; at least, I thought we had.”

“And that's why you came on this voyage. Because you wanted a second chance with Garret? Because you still loved him?”

Bess's smile was twisted. “I loathed him. I wanted to see him suffer.” She raised her eyebrows. “Don't look so shocked, John. I could have told you that I'm not the perfect, pure little girl that Uncle Edward must have told you I am.”

Poor Uncle Edward,
she thought.
How disappointed he must have been when he learned I was carrying Seth's child.

“Would you like to resign?” she asked the man who had been her most trusted friend. She had trusted him, but had been unwilling to confide the whole truth about her past.

John Reeves looked insulted by her suggestion. “Elisabeth Mary Metcalfe—Garret,” he added the last with reluctance. “You're the same woman I fell in love with. All of us make mistakes. God knows I've made many.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Bess thought for a moment before she shook her head. “No, it's over. The past is past. There is nothing I can say that will change it, nothing I can do.”

And it was difficult enough living in the present.

 

 

Seth and Bess never had a chance to discuss the past further, for the
Sea Mistress
was nearing Juan Fernandez, an island off the Chilean coast. There, the crew would be taking on fresh water and the supplies needed to complete the journey to California. The repairs to the ship had been minimal and completed during the voyage.

When Bess came to the upper deck, Seth was occupied, giving orders to the crew to drop anchor. The island was beautiful, a picture of rugged grace with its green trees and rocky inclines. The warm breeze that caressed Bess's face carried with it a mixture of alluring scents, and the sky overhead was an incredibly bright azure blue.

Rebecca Montague was aft of Bess, there at the port bow, Bess saw with irritation. She spied John Reeves after he'd left her and saw him approach the young auburn-haired woman. She was startled when he placed his arm about Rebecca, even more so when Rebecca laughed out loud at something John must have said as he gestured toward the island. The two spoke in earnest, and Bess wondered what they were saying.

Rebecca has made another conquest,
she thought, wondering how she could be so mean.

Then, Bess sensed someone staring at her. When she glanced toward the quarter deck, she saw it was Seth, and he was studying her with an intensity that made her skin prickle and form little bumps.

Her flesh tingled as he approached her, descending the ladder to the main deck where she stood, waiting. He didn't look at her as he came up beside her, but leaned against the rail gazing at the island.

“Juan Fernandez,” he announced. Casually, he encircled her with his arm, pulling her against his side. Surprised, Bess allowed him to hold her and enjoyed the sensations his embrace created inside of her.

Seth gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze before letting her go. He turned her to face him, and she met his gaze, feeling a surge of love for him as he regarded her through his bright blue eyes.

“We'll be stocking up on water and food and then leaving. A brief stop is all. About an hour, I should expect.” He continued to stare at her, his brow furrowing. “What? No pleas to go ashore? No arguments?”

She shook her head. Bess was very much aware of his physical attributes. She wanted to lure him back to their cabin where they could make love again, wildly and passionately all through the night.

Seth's gaze flamed as if he'd read her thoughts. “Bess,” he began huskily. He slipped his hand about her waist, caressing her hips and back through fabric. “Don't look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she said, nearly breathless. The question was innocent enough, but the twinkle in her eyes was mischievous.

“Damn you, woman,” he growled. “Not now. I've got too much to think about . . . to do.”

The light fell from her expression. “Very well,” she said, turning to leave.

He grabbed her arm. “Minx,” he said. “You know I want you, but it will have to be later. I'll send James Kelley to the island. I don't have to go ashore.”

She nodded, her hopes spiraling higher, her body pulsating with anticipation. They heard a giggle, and Seth's gaze went to Reeves and Rebecca a few yards away. The captain's face darkened.

“Mr. Reeves has made a new friend, I take it,” Seth said, his visage solemn as he met her gaze.

“Yes, it would seem so.”

“It doesn't bother you?”

“Should it?” It wasn't Rebecca's conquest over John Reeves that bothered Bess; it was Seth's fascination with the girl that disturbed her. “No, no, it doesn't bother me.”

Seth smiled, clearly no longer affected by seeing the other two people together. “Good.”

And then with an unspoken promise in his blue gaze, he left her to anticipate the coming night of love.

 

 

In a matter of two hours, the
Sea Mistress
had left Juan Fernandez and was heading north on the last leg of their voyage to California. Once the ship was well under way again, Seth returned to his cabin. It was late at night, and he knew that Bess had retired much earlier and would be sleeping. Still, he was anxious to be with her, even if just to watch her sleep.

Making love to her again after so many years had been wonderful, even better than he'd remembered. It was hard for him to equate the woman she'd become with the young spoiled girl she'd been, the young girl who had professed love for him and then shortly afterward ended their relationship.

Bess desired him. He could see it in the way her eyes lit up whenever she met his gaze. In fact, her expression hinted at more than desire . . . at love.

Had she regretted her decision to end their relationship? Nothing about her behavior now and her rejection of him five years before made any sense to him.

Seth could still recall with clarity the words she'd written. He had received her letter two months after he'd left, which meant that she must have sat down within days of his leaving to pen the note.

Had it all been a mistake? A ghastly mistake? She had promised to wait and her love had seemed genuine. Then how could she have ended things so . soon? The words she had written returned to him.

Seth entered the cabin quietly, his frame tense with resurrected memories and feeling uncertain. And then he saw her lying on the bunk wearing a white filmy nightgown that did little to hide her curves.

He went to the bunk and gazed down at her from her unbound flaxen hair to her bare toes, stopping at several points to admire her shapely figure in between. She looked vulnerable and also desirable. Seth felt an overwhelming surge of love for her, and suddenly the past didn't matter any more. All he cared about was the here and now and the strong urge he had to lie beside her and show his love.

Seth tugged off his boots, setting them down carefully against the wall. He undressed then, taking off all of his clothes. He eased his body onto the bunk stretching out beside her before slipping his arms about her. Next, he shifted close and began a tender exploration of her neck, rising slightly to trail kisses across her face.