Seductive Wager (29 page)

Brett’s lips and hands continued to roam over her body, caressing, tenderly kneading, stimulating her whole being. A low moan escaped her, and Brett’s mouth immediately imprisoned hers in a searing kiss, his tongue raking her mouth and drawing out its sweetness in greedy kisses. Her lips felt bruised and sore, but she didn’t shrink from him. One hand began its descent to her thighs and the entrance to her temple; shamelessly it brushed through the soft barrier and boldly entered where it had no right. Kate nearly sat straight up in bed, her body a welter of wildly confused sensations, her emotions a tangle of unresolved longing. All thought was suspended and her whole being was quickly infused with a whirling melee of desire that was increasingly impossible to resist.

Kate could feel the heat of Brett’s engorged manhood pressing against her thigh as his hand continued to probe and rub and caress, drawing moan after pulsating moan from her throat. Before she knew what she was doing, she found herself beginning to move against him, fighting his command of her but encouraging his ultimate domination.

Brett entered her abruptly and drove deeper with each rapid thrust until Kate felt she would explode. She was moving with him now, slowly increasing the strength of her response until her body was flinging itself to meet his, demanding his strength, urging him to conquer and fulfill her.

Kate could feel the maelstrom spinning with ever-increasing speed until she felt as if every part of her body was being assaulted and bruised by its force. She tried to cry out, but Brett’s mouth covered hers and her breaths were nearly strangled sobs as the tempo of her response rose to frantic heights.

Just when she thought she could stand no more, Brett gave an agonized moan and she felt his seed stream into her body. Simultaneously she felt her own body gather itself and pitch forward into an ecstasy of pleasure. She clung to Brett like a vine, striving to drain every ounce of loving from his body, then fell back exhausted.

They lay still for many minutes; the only sounds which came to Kate’s ears were the creaking of the masts and their labored breathing. She found it difficult to realize that once again she had not only responded to Brett’s advances but had enjoyed them. This time, however, she felt no shame or anger, only unbelieving wonder. Everything had happened so quickly that night in the inn, but tonight he had slowly and meticulously made love to every part of her body. Her hand brushed her mouth and she felt the soreness of her lips,. If this was what making love with Brett was really like, she’d spend all her time behind closed doors waiting for the bruises to go away just so he could make some more.

Her movement stirred Brett and his hands began to caress her body again, more gently this time. Kate couldn’t believe he had the energy to begin again, but she soon discovered her mistake. He brought her back to a peak of excitement and expectation before he entered her again, but this time he moved more slowly and steadily, working to sense her pleasure and to build it to greater heights than ever. His hands gently caressed her body, methodically coaxing her to respond. His tongue snaked across her skin kindling little trails of fire and increasing her reaction tenfold. He continued to work within her, varying his rhythm and strokes until she felt waves of pleasure begin to wash over her, one after another, growing in strength and intensity. She struggled against him, demanding more, but he continued to move with maddening steadiness, stoking her fires until she felt scorched. Her body became a red-hot ball of flame and she thought she must faint. Only then did he change his rhythm, suddenly stroking sharply and quickly, and driving within her.

It was like an electric shock, and she nearly cried out from the intensity of her pleasure. He stifled her protest with a kiss and drove her relentlessly on. All at once she was gasping, fighting for breath, her entire body erupting with the force of her exploding sensations. Again she tried to cry out, and again he covered her mouth with his; with two final knifing thrusts, he drove her to an ecstasy of release and she experienced the inexpressible pleasure of final consummation. She fell away with a sigh.

He took her once more that night, against her protests, but to her ultimate delight and left her sore, bruised, and wondering if she would ever rise from the bed again. She felt like a hollow shell, with all the inner flesh burned away and just the dried husk remaining. She smiled, turned over, and fell into a deep sleep.

Kate knew it was late when she awoke because the sun was already high in the sky. She lay still, trying to remember as much of last night as she could. Once again she found it hard to accept her own response to Brett. In the privacy of her own mind she could confess she had enjoyed it, even reveled in it, but she would die rather than admit that to Brett. She had been half asleep at the Cock-in-the-Cradle and had never been sure of what she remembered, but she had been wide-awake last night and she could recall every passion-filled minute in detail. She could only wonder at herself, for she had never suspected the presence of such feelings within herself.

Kate raised her arms over her head to indulge in an expansive stretch. She had expected to enjoy it as she always did on cool mornings when she had slept well, but today it made her acutely aware of sore muscles and bruised flesh, and she frowned.

She got out of bed, bolted the door, and walked over to the long mirror on the back of the wardrobe door. She examined her face, but she could see no changes, no lines, no sign even of the bruised lips. She slipped her gown over her shoulders and dropped it to the floor. Carefully she studied herself in the morning light, turning first to one side and then to the other, minutely searching for something to show what she had experienced in Brett’s arms.

The time of their first lovemaking, she had felt besmirched and dishonored, but now she felt transformed, like a butterfly which had emerged from her cocoon into the brilliant sunshine, and it was a little disappointing to find she didn’t look any different. Rocking her body from side to side, she hugged herself in a spasm of delight. Now she was a woman and knew what it was to take a woman’s pleasures. She had passed one of life’s milestones and there was no going back.

Then she remembered that even though Brett was her husband, he had been forced on her as much by circumstances as by his own lusts, and she intended to leave him as soon as she could. She grew angry. That’s not how it should have been, and it came close to destroying all her pleasure.

She shoved her thoughts aside and began to dress. She had enjoyed being on deck so much yesterday that she wanted to go up again. Then she remembered the cabins of the crew members that lined the passageway and she stopped in her tracks. Everyone must have known it was her wedding night, and she couldn’t bear to be stared at with knowing smiles by every man she passed. It was too terrible to even contemplate. It might be better if she waited for Brett. Their curiosity couldn’t last forever.

She went about her dressing without realizing she was spending a longer time than usual over her choices. She was displeased with everything in her closet; her clothes were drab and ugly. She didn’t own a single dress that didn’t make her look like a poor relation. As soon as they stopped at one of the coastal towns in France or Spain, or
someplace
civilized, she had to get some new clothes. If she was going to be forced to masquerade as Brett’s wife, she refused to go about looking like a peasant girl. She threw the gown in her hands to the floor, but on further consideration picked it up again because she decided it was the least likely of all her garments to make her an object of ridicule. She finished dressing and studied herself critically in the mirror. The reflection wasn’t what she would have liked, but she couldn’t do any better now, so with a resigned shrug she sat down to wait for Brett.

It didn’t take her long to become extremely impatient. She was bored and there was nothing to do. In her haste to leave Ryehill, she had never considered the need for something to occupy her time. Kate had never liked needlework, but she would gladly have hemmed a dozen handkerchiefs just to fill the time.

The empty minutes continued to pile up. She searched the room for something to occupy her mind, but it had been swept clean before she and Brett boarded the ship.

She sat down again and tried to think of what to do about her future, a future that didn’t include Brett, but the idea depressed her and she couldn’t concentrate. She tried to decide what she would do or say the next time she was alone with him, but the memory of last night unsettled her so much she couldn’t think at all. It probably wouldn’t make any difference anyway. Brett had a way of expecting things to go the way he wanted them to, and from her limited experience, they usually did, despite any obstacle in his path. She sighed deeply once more and prepared to wait.

After one of the longest and most tedious hours she had ever endured, she heard a knock at the door and ran to throw it open. Only last-minute caution kept her from rushing out into the passageway to welcome Brett with open arms. “Who is it?” she called out, leaning her ear against the door.

“It’s Charles, Mrs. Westbrook.” Kate sighed with relief and unlocked the door. “Mr. Westbrook sent me to ask if you would like to eat lunch on deck. The weather’s holding, and the sun is quite warm.”

Kate would have eaten her lunch in the crow’s nest just to get out of the room. She was sure she could endure the curious stares with Brett’s support, but after a morning of being cooped up in the cabin, it was worth being stared at by any number of people just to be able to escape further confinement.

You’re acting like a silly fool,
she scolded herself.
You’re a married woman traveling with her husband, and you’ve done absolutely nothing that all married women don’t do. As a matter of fact, everybody
expects
you to sleep with Brett. They’d really stare if you didn’t, so stop jumping at shadows and get up on deck and try to act like a sensible, normal married lady.
But even though she recognized the practical nature of that stern advice, she still had a nagging feeling she would have preferred to stay hidden forever.

Chapter 17

A small table already stood next to her deck chair. Brett had finished his lunch, but he gave orders that Kate should be served at once. He seemed completely at ease with her—it was as though last night never happened—but she was too self-conscious, too acutely aware of their recent intimacy, to meet his eyes; she busied herself getting settled into her chair and then lay back with her hands over her eyes pretending the sun was too strong for her to open them.

Brett filled the time with small talk, asking about her comfort and if there was anything he could do to make her trip more enjoyable. Kate remembered her hellish hours of boredom and forgot to be embarrassed.

“Yes, there
is
something you can do,” she said, sitting up and facing Brett squarely. “I need something to do with my time. I spent an hour ransacking every crevice in that cabin trying to find a book or a game,
anything
to do. It nearly drove me crazy. There’s not even a needle to mend a piece of torn lace.”

“Do you
want
to mend torn lace?” Brett asked, nonplussed.

“Of course not, but I can’t sit around for hours with nothing to do except doze in the sun. Besides, there’s nobody to do it for me.”

“I never thought about that,” Brett conceded. He was never bored at sea.

“Neither did I,” she admitted. “I didn’t bring anything from home, and no one packed the books I borrowed from Valentine. I’ll go crazy if I don’t find something to do. I might even be reduced to scrubbing the floors to keep my sanity.”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Brett snapped, quite unamused. “I’ll speak to the captain. He’s bound to have one or two books you can borrow, but I wouldn’t expect too much. Everyone’s busy when they’re at sea, and they don’t have much time for amusements. I’m sure we’ll be stopping several times before we reach Gibraltar. We can look for something then.”

Her eyes lighted up. “Can we go shopping?” she asked eagerly. “I need clothes, dresses, hats, just about everything you can think of.”

“I’m afraid you won’t find much you’ll want to buy. The ports are small and not likely to have much that will interest you, but when we come back, I promise to mount a raid on the Paris dress shops they’ll be talking about for years to come.” In an effort to ease her disappointment, he added, “And we won’t patronize any but the most expensive shops.”

But Kate wasn’t going to be talked down to. “I never imagined you wouldn’t,” she said with an impish grin. “You couldn’t possibly let your wife be seen in the rags I have with me. Certainly not after the way you dress your mistresses.” She almost laughed at his startled, disapproving frown. “You probably haven’t noticed, but I don’t have a single dress a parlor maid wouldn’t be ashamed to wear. You should have heard some of the things Valentine had to say about them.”