Island Flame Part 12

Cathy frowned at Harry as Jon reluctantly released her, and pointedly ignored him as she turned away. Really, if he weren't careful, Jon would get wise to his pursuit of her-for pursuit was what it had become- and then the fat would be in the fire for sure! Her pirate captain had a fierce temper and a strong sense of possessiveness where she was concerned. His eyes were already suspicious as they looked at Harry.

The two men talked for some time, drawing lines on the charts and measuring the distance to various points. Their conversation was largely unintelligible so she soon stopped listening. She wandered over to one of the bookcases and selected one of the volumes, and then settled herself in the alcove beneath the window to read. The book was extremely dull, and eventually she put it aside, pa.s.sing the time instead by looking out at the ever-changing sea. She was unaware that the afternoon sun had turned her loosened hair into a fiery aureole around her face, or that her averted profile had the sweet purity of a perfect cameo. Both men's eyes wandered from time to time to feast on the enchanting picture she made, Jon's openly and Harry's whenever he thought his captain wasn't aware of it. Their conversation became more and more desultory and finally ceased altogether. This cessation in the flow of talk attracted Cathy's attention, and she turned to find both men eyeing her hungrily. She smiled warmly at Jon, ignoring Harry, and got to her feet, stretching a little as she rose.

"Would you like me to leave?" Perhaps they had something to discuss that was not for her ears.

"Not at all," both men a.s.sured her at the same time. Jon turned a razor-sharp look on Harry.

Cathy saw that look and crossed quickly to Jon's side, placing a slender hand on his shoulder and smiling down at him.

"It's time you had a rest." Her voice was caressing, partly for Harry's benefit and partly because she couldn't help herself. Jon was distracted, as she had meant him to be. His hand came up to cover hers, pressing it down into the hard muscles of his shoulder. Cathy felt a twinge of excitement run through her fingers. Harry watched them resentfully, and then abruptly stood up to go, his eyes hard.

"We can finish this another time, Captain," Harry said stiffly. Jon flashed him a glinting look as he stalked from the cabin.

To Cathy's uneasy surprise, Jon said nothing at all when they were once again alone. The silence was heavy as he hobbled across to the bunk and began to undress. A deep frown furrowed his brow and his mouth was tight as he tugged painfully out of his breeches. When he had levered himself into the bed Cathy could bear the ominous stillness no longer. She came to sit beside him, pulling a pillow out from under his head so that he was forced to lie flat, and tucking the quilts up around his chest. His eyes were fixed on her, broodingly, as she ministered to him. It was stupid, she knew, but she felt absurdly guilty under that dark gaze.

"Cathy." His hand caught her wrist as she would have turned away. "Has Harry been-pestering-you while I've been laid up?"

She knew he must have felt the nervous start of her pulse under his hand, but there was nothing she could do about it. d.a.m.n Harry anyway, for putting her in this position! She didn't want tohe , but on the other hand she didn't want to cause trouble between Jon and one of his oldest friends.

"No," she answered coolly, not quite meeting his eyes. "Why do you ask?"

"He watches you like a gull after fish. I don't like it. If he's been making a nuisance of himself, tell me. I'll put a stop to it mighty fast." With an effort, Cathy smiled at him, hoping to lighten his mood.

"If Iwere conceited, I'd think you were jealous, Captain," she teased. Jon's eyes held hers for a moment as if struck by what she had said. His voice was strangely husky when he replied.

"And if I were, would I have reason?" His eyes burned into hers like hot coals. Cathy couldn't suppress a tiny s.h.i.+ver of triumph. If hewere jealous, and it seemed very much Like he was, then he must be far down the road to being in love with her. Jon saw the brief flicker in her eyes, and frowned heavily, his hand tightening painfully around her wrist.

"I said, have I reason to be jealous?" His voice was stark.

Cathy grinned down at him, her eyes twinkling impishly.

"I should let you stew," she said reflectively. "I think it would do you good."

Jon's face darkened thunderously as he glared up at her. His grasp on her wrist tightened so much that she winced.

"Don't play games with me, my cat," he warned, eyes menacing her. "You might not like the consequences. I'll ask once more: have I reason to be jealous?"

Cathy would have been angry at his threat if the disquiet in his eyes hadn't made her so happy. She pursed her lips, looking down at the floor as though dreading his reaction to what she had to tell him, then bent quick as a flash to whisper in his ear, "No, but I think you are anyway."

She could see the red come up under his skin as he absorbed the full import of her statement. His eyes flashed to hers as shestraightened, their expression both wary and faintly sheepish. Cathy waited expectantly, but he was not yet ready to admit to feeling any tender emotion where she was concerned.

"What I have,Ikeep," was all he said. Cathy didn't really mind. It might take a little time, but one day he would love her and admit it. She felt sure of it. In the meantime, she could wait.

The next day was hot and airless, with the kind of heavy sultriness that presages a storm. It took all Cathy's ingenuity to keep Jon amused. He was itching to be back in charge of his s.h.i.+p, fretting that Harry would not do a proper job of preparing for the bad weather that seemed to be ahead of them. Tactfully Cathy tried to discourage him, and when that didn't work she told him bluntly that he was not yet strong enough to even stand on the quarterdeck. His wounds were healing nicely, but he still tired easily, and his appet.i.te had not yet returned. Cathy scolded him roundly for leaving almost his entire portion of salted pork untouched at midday. He scowled up at her sullenly, like a thwarted small boy, and Cathy had to smile. She was still smiling as she called toPetersham to take the remains of the meal away, and then came back to sit beside Jon who was propped up in the bunk.

"How do you feel?" she asked, her eyes running over himproprietorily . He had lost weight since being wounded, but not enough to mar the splendid lines of his body. His leanness only served to accentuate the strength of his corded muscles.

"Like some puling infant," he answered grumpily, his eyes resting on the swelling curves of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Cathy remained stoic under his rapidly warming perusal. Bedding him whenever he wished wasn't getting her anywhere, she reflected. Perhaps it was time to try a new tactic. Let him go without her for a while, and his affections might suddenly blossom.

Jon, undeterred by her indifference, stretched out a questing finger to follow the trail blazed by his eyes. Cathy slapped his hand away only to rind herself dragged across his lap to lie half on him, half on the bunk. His mouth came down to twist across hers hungrily. Cathy returned the embrace for a moment before lightly biting her teeth down on his tongue. Jon yelped, jumping back, his hand going up to test the injured member.

"It's a pity you're not as hungry for food as you are for me," she said lightly. "You might regain your strength sooner."

"I'm strong enough to tame a vixen," he grunted, his hands reaching for her purposefully. Cathy did her best to elude him, but she was hampered by her own desires. Eventually she surrendered to greater force of arms, and returned his kisses warmly. But when his hand groped behind her back for the fastenings to her dress, Cathy set it away from her firmly.

"No," she said. His eyes opened to stare at her.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to," she told him haughtily, tilting her fine-boned little nose at him. "I'd-I'd rather talk."

"Talk!"Jon groaned, rolling over onto his back with a pained expression.

'Yes, talk." Cathy was determined not to surrender to himagain, operating on the theory that abstinence makes the heart grow fonder.

"Go ahead," Jon sighed, crossing his hands behind his head. Cathy wriggled upward until she lay full upon his chest, her chin propped in her hands as she looked at him, her legs between his, so as not to jar his injuredthigh. His eyes warmed appreciatively at the method of her conversation, but when he would have kissed her again Cathy held him off,nickering her small tongue out at him playfully.

"Have you ever been in love?" Cathy began when they were settled at last.

"Oh, G.o.d!" he mumbled, closing his eyes as if pained. "She wants to talk about it, and I want to do it!"

"Many times."He grinned devilishly, entering into the spirit of the conversation. "And each time lasted about half an hour."

"Very funny," Cathy said sourly. "I meant, really in love?"

"When I was sixteen I was totally infatuated with my stepmother," he answered lightly, his eyes on the ceiling.

"Really?"Cathy asked suspiciously.

"Yes, really," he replied. "She was twenty when my father married her, a beautiful black-haired wench with flas.h.i.+ng dark eyes and all the right equipment. At the time I thought she was the loveliest thing in the whole world."

"What happened?" Cathy asked a trifle stiffly, not able to control a p.r.i.c.k of jealousy. Yet how ridiculous it was to hate a woman she had never heard of before, and for something that had occurred almost twenty years before.

"I was so infatuated that I followed her everywhere. I was just a boy, remember, and I wors.h.i.+pped her like a G.o.ddess. She didn't even know I was alive, I don't think. I certainly never remember her looking, let alone smiling, at me. I put her up on a pedestal, and never even thought of touching her. Such a thing would have seemed like a sacrilege. Anyway, I followed her to the dressmaker one August afternoon. She went to the dressmaker about twice a week, and usually I just hung around outside until she came out. This time, for no reason in particular, I happened to wander around back and saw her leaving by a rear entrance. Quite naturally, I was intrigued, and followed her. She walked to a little house set well back from the street, and went inside. I didn't know what to think. In my innocence, I supposed that she must be visiting another dressmaker, or perhaps a milliner, for some reason. After a while, curiosity got the better of my sense of propriety, and I went up to the house and peeped through the windows. My dear stepmother was as naked as the day she was born on the floor of the library, mewling like a b.i.t.c.h in heat, while a man I'd never seen before in my life rode between her thighs."

"Did you tell your father?" Cathy gasped, fascination overcoming shock.

"Certainly not.He wouldn't have believed me, anyway. He was in love with her, and thought she was the most perfect creature on earth."

"Then what did you do?"

"I packed my few clothes and left that night. I couldn't stick around after that. The thought of what I'd seen made me want to throw up. If I had stayed, I might have killed her." Jon's voice was still deliberately light, but Cathy was able to discern the harsh note of remembered disillusion that lay beneath it. She placed a consoling hand on his bristly cheek. He turned his mouth into the palm,then grimaced down at her.

"Save your sympathy, sweet. Although I didn't think so at the time, I know now that the s.l.u.t did me a service. I was never that young or that naive again."

"And-and did you soon fall in love with someone else?" Cathy's voice was very sweet and a touch wistful. Jon's eyes glinted down at her.

"Not in the same way. My other loves were all of the type you're too young to hear about." He was teasing her, and Cathy twinkled back at him, glad that the harshness had left his face.

"I'd ask you if you'd ever been in love," he twitted her, "except that you're just a baby. You haven't had time."

"I most certainly have!" Cathy protested indignantly. Then, seeing the sharp look he turned on her, she amended hastily, "Well, I've had lots of beaus."

"I can imagine," he answered dryly, his eyes moving over the winsome beauty of her face and form. "And did they bring you flowers and kiss your hand?"

"Of course," Cathy replied with dignity.

"That's all they did," Jon muttered under his breath.

"How do you know?" Cathy looked at him flirtatiously from beneath her long lashes, hoping to provoke him to another display of jealousy. She felt cheated when he merely grinned.

"My cat, it was obvious the first time I kissed you. You were totally untouched by man."

"That's your opinion," Cathy sniffed, nettled.

"That's a fact." Jon pinched the tip of her nose playfully. "I've bedded enough women to know when one has had experience. You hadn't. Not a bit."

The tips of Cathy's ears turned pink with embarra.s.sment. She stared at him reproachfully.

'You make it sound like I'm just one in a very long line." Her voice was stiff despite her attempt to speak naturally.

Jon looked at her through narrowed eyes. She sounded hurt, and he hadn't meant to do that.

"Jealous?" he teased to distract her.

"Not at all," Cathy replied coldly. "I'd certainly never be jealous over you."

"Good. I hate a jealous woman," Jon told her cheerfully, and when her eyes snapped at him he grinned and rolled over with her.

"Enough talk," he grunted, pus.h.i.+ng her down into the soft mattress. "I'm hungry.And not for food."

When Cathy left the cabin some two hours later, Jon was still sleeping peacefully. There went her plan to win his heart by denying him her body, she thought ruefully. He hadn't even had to force her. His sensuous caresses had set her body afire, and, after that, making love to her had been as easy as rowing downstream. Oh, well, she thought, shrugging. At least she had enjoyed losing.

The sun was sinking beneath the horizon, its bright orange globe only half visible above the rippling, gold-edged sea. Streamers of pink and lavender clouds curved around it like a pinwheel, making a sunset so breathtaking that Cathy stepped to therad to get a better look. The deck was deserted except for the officer of the watch, and the silence was broken only by the creaking timbers and the popping of sails. Cathy stood leaning lightly on the rail, drinking in the utter peace of the hour before darkness, not thinking of anything in particular, not even Jon.

"I see he rides you well," a tight voice jeered behind her. Cathy sighed deeply, knowing who it was before she turned. Harry, of course! Really, she wished he would get over this ridiculous notion that he was in love with her. It was growing exceedingly tiresome.

"Good evening, Harry," she said coolly, ignoring his taunt.

"Good evening, Harry," he said, mimicking her well-bred toneangrdy . "I'll wager that's not how you greet Jon."

"But you're not Jon," Cathy pointed out with a slight edge to her voice. She gathered up her skirts and started to sweep past him, but his hand on her arm stopped her. Cathy stared pointedly down at the restraining hand, silently demanding to be released.

"Let me go, Harry," she ordered grimly, hoping that she would not be obliged to call for a.s.sistance. After Jon's questions of the day before, it would not take very much to reawaken his suspicions. And if she should be forced to make any kind of commotion to get away from this b.u.mbling a.s.s, Jon would surely hear of it.

"Not yet." His voice was low, and he was looking at her with half-shamed desire. "I want to apologize for the way I've been acting lately. I-I can't seem to help myself. You're so beautiful and I love you so much. Just the thought of you in his arms is driving me crazy."

"I accept your apology, Harry," Cathy said, deeming it wiser to ignore the last part of his speech. She tugged gently at her arm. "I really have to go in now. It's getting quite dark."

"G.o.d, you won't even listen to me, will you?" Harry burst out savagely. "Well, maybe you'll listen to this!"

Before Cathy knew what he intended his arms came around her, dragging her protesting againsthim. Cathy tried to pull free, but he was too strong. He was not as big as Jon, or as muscular, but he was wiry and he was determined to kiss her. She wenthmp in his embrace, hoping that by her lack of response she could convince him that his pursuit was hopeless. Just wait, Cathy thought furiously, keeping her teeth tightly clenched against his probing tongue. When you let me go I'll slap the daylights out of you, you stupid fool!

Cathy's eyes were wide open and filled with disgust as Harry's lips and hands beseeched her. As she glanced over Harry's shoulder her eyes grew even wider. Not three feet away stood Jon, leaning heavily on a hand-whitdedcrutch. As Cathy watched, horrified, the blood rushed into his lean face and his eyes, darkly furious as they met hers, showed murderous anger.

Nine.

Jon felt a deep, boiling rage build up until he thought its force would blow him apart. "The cheating little b.i.t.c.h!" he raged silently. He had begun to think that she was different, sweet, innocent-even that she was starting to care for him. "Fool!" he castigated himself furiously. He should have known that all women were basically the same. Like some besottedaddlepate he had allowed a lovely face and soft flesh to lead him around by the nose. It enraged him to realize that all the time the two-faced s.l.u.t was murmuring breathless little endearments tohim, she had been planning to meet another man on the sly. But no more, he promised himself grimly. He would take her apart with his bare hands.And as for Harry. . . . Jon smiled savagely. That he would really enjoy!

Cathy's horrifiedshovings at Harry's shoulders finally had some effect. He released her reluctantly and started to speak, staring pa.s.sionately down at her white face. What he saw there made him swing around. Oh, G.o.d! Jon! He looked more furious than Harry had ever seen him, his dark face suffused with blood, a muscle twitching convulsively in this cheek. His gray eyes stared at Harry like icy harbingers of death. Harry felt the colordrain from his own face and devoutly thanked G.o.d that the other man had not yet recovered his full strength.

The three of them stood frozen in place for a long moment, like some ghastly tableau from a play. Cathy finally recovered the use of her limbs and ran across to Jon, catching him by the arm and shaking itslightiy .

"Darling, it's not what it seems," she told himur -gently. The set stillness of his face and those awful, leaping eyes frightened her far more than any amount of ranting would have done. "Jon, you must believe me! I can explain. . . . !"

Jon stared down at Cathy, his eyes glowing like twin coals on the devil's hearth. When she called him darling in that insidious little voice, he felt like he'd been stabbed in the gut. His pain was so intense that he was almost sick with it.

"You lying little b.i.t.c.h!" he snarled softy.

The arm she was dinging toswept violently against her, sending her staggering, and she fell heavily on the hard boards of the deck. She cried out at the force of the impact. Automatically Harry started to go to her a.s.sistance, only to find Jon blocking his path.

"Don't touch her, you d.a.m.n b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Jon said through his teeth. His voice was icy cold, his hands twitching in their eagerness to close around Harry's neck. Harry backed off. Normally he was no match for Jon, but in the captain's weakened stare he just might stand a chance. Or he might not. Rage had been known to give even the weakest ofcreatures incredible strength, and Jon, even leaning on a crutch, looked capable of tearing him to pieces. But Cathy needed him. . . . And what Jon might do to her after he was finished with Harry himself did not bear thinking of.

Jon settled the matter. He began to advance on Harry slowly, menacingly, the cold purpose in his eyes enoughto send Harry backing away from him. If ever death had looked out of a man's eyes, it was looking now out of Jon's.

With deadly purpose Jon withdrew the long knife from the scabbard at his waist. His fingers stroked along the finely honed blade almost caressingly. Harry was backed against the rail and could go no further. He looked about him desperately for a weapon. There was nothing. He felt terror rise in his throat like bile.

Cathy saw what was happening and scrambled to her feet with an inarticulate cry of horror. She ran frantically across to Jon and caught hold of the arm holding the knife in a grip that refused to be shaken off.

"Jon, you can't!" she screamed at him recklessly. "Harry didn't do anything! You can't kill him! It was me! I tell you, it was me!"

Her lie was the only thing she could think of that might save Harry's life. A kiss wasn't worth killing a man! Give Jon time to get over his first wild rage and he would agree, she knew. But in the meanwhile he must be kept from doing something that he would regret forever.

Her words succeeded in attracting Jon's attention. He stared down at her, his burning gray eyes going first to the saucer-roundness of hers and then firing on her trembling lips. That soft mouth, only a little over an hour ago, had been driving him mad. . . . Now it was driving him mad in a different way. His eyes blazed at her, one hand moving up to grab her hair. Cathy gasped as her head was jerked back suddenly, and she thought for a second that her neck might snap. Jon held her cruelly, his big hand purposefully hurting her as it dug into her scalp. The fingers twined themselves painfully around the silky strands, twisting her head back so that it was forced to rest against his hard shoulder, her face turned up to his. Cathy didn't attempt to struggle. Despite his fury, she didn't really think that he would hurt her. But if she were to resist him now, he might be driven to ungovernable lengths.

The straight line of his mouth closed over hers, prying her lips apart, purposefully bruising her. He kissed her as if he wanted to hurt her, to insult her, to imprint his total possession of her in her mind. Cathy quivered under his a.s.sault, but instead of trying to pull away she returned the full sweetness of her mouth to him. A miniscule portion of the rage had died out of his eyes when he released her.

"This is mine!" he barked at Harry, who had watched the scene in frozen silence. Jon's bullet-like speech was so abrupt that Cathy started nervously in his arms. He whirled her around so that she stood with her back against his chest facing Harry. The arm holding the knife was tight about her waist, the sharp blade facing out. Harry took in its glittering menace, and paled.

'This is mine," Jon repeated savagely. "If you ever attempt to touch her again, I'll kill you on the spot. Understand?"

Harry stared at Jon,then nodded wordlessly. He felt like a condemned man who had just been granted a reprieve. Jon's eyes raked over him, still flickering with anger, and then turned his attention to the trembling girl whose soft body he held so brutally. Roughly he shoved her away from him, sending her reeling to the deck.