Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(166)
It was sometime later when Ruark turned and noticed that Shanna’s candle cast her shadow on the sheet. His perusal of the darkness was forgotten as his attention shifted to her performance. Once she rose and reached into the armoire, and her silhouette showed in full detail upon the cloth. His blood warmed, flooding his body with desire. He remembered a night gone by when she had come to him and laid herself in his arms with a passion such as he had never known in a woman. There was a great longing in him for it to be that way again. With a slow but purposeful stride, he went to the drapery and lifted it aside, giving her a start. His eyes caressed all that they touched. Her swelling breasts gleamed with wet droplets, which seemed to sparkle in the candlelight. The shallow water held nothing from his regard, and his passion fed upon the stirring sight. Her own gaze was soft, and her breathing shallow as she stared up at him. Then her eyes moved downward and something less than desire kindled within them.
She pulled a cloth over her bosom. “My Lord Captain, you intrude. Am I to have no privacy?”
Ruark scowled. “Shanna love, you are indeed ravishing beyond words, but I feel the bitter bite of ire much too sharply and of late too often. Am I to endure this outrage when you have no cause?”
“No cause indeed!” Shanna snapped. “You flaunt yourself with cutoff breeches and shirtless back, roam the lower streets of town, then prance yourself across my balcony to beseech me greet you as some long-lost lover. Am I a fool? Am I simple? For them,” she jerked her head toward the door, “I will play the mopish slave, but do not mistake yourself, my Captain Rogue. In this chamber you will lie alone. Or if you be in truth the pirate bold, then you may ease yourself by force and nothing less.”
“Shanna,” Ruark was set to argue the point. “Why do you do this? I—”
“Will you straighten the panel please”—she cut him short—“and let me find some comfort for a moment?”
So dismissing him, Shanna, leaned back in the tub and, raising a shapely limb, began to leisurely wash her leg. Ruark fought the urge to snatch the towel away and set an end to the indifference she portrayed. His passion demanded it, but his mind knew the folly of such. He was well aware that Shanna, confronted with force, would rally to meet it with all the energies of an outraged feline and would not yield short of exhaustion. Where would the pleasure be in taking her then? He had known the joy of her willing response. He could settle for nothing less.
Angrily he jerked the barrier over the mirrors again and stretched out on the bed to watch her shadow for his enjoyment. Her silhouette fled as she left the tub. Long moments passed. Ruark doffed his breeches and slipped beneath the sheet. With something less than patience he waited, aware that Shanna could not so easily dismiss his presence once in bed. He had already noted the tendency of the feather ticks to gather in about them, drawing them to one another. Even with her sternest efforts, she would be hard put to stay away. He folded her side of the sheet down further so she would find no hindrance there. The candle by the bed lit the room with its dim glow. Still he waited. Finally her light was doused and the sheet taken away. Shanna was fully dressed, but how she was dressed. A long, black silk skirt garishly embroidered with colorful flowers was tucked up upon itself as Carmelita’s had been, showing a trim and shapely thigh. A loose, thin blouse, several sizes too large, barely held its place across one shoulder and the high, full curve of her bosom. Her hair, highlighted with its own gold, was drawn back with a scrap of ribbon and cascaded down her back to its long, glorious length. Her sea-green eyes sparkled with mischief as she cocked her hip and ran her hand along its curve.
“Does this fashion suit my Lord Captain Pirate? Is it common enough for your taste?”
She came slowly across the room toward the bed, rolling her hips like a ship aground in a heavy sea. Her breasts swung wantonly as she moved, threatening the security of her modesty as the oversize blouse slipped ever lower.
“Does my Lord Captain Pirate wish a warm bedmate for the night?” she simpered sweetly.
Pausing at the foot of the bed, she swayed her hips invitingly, and her look was teasingly seductive, her lips wet and parted with a hint of a mysterious smile. Ruark closed his mouth when he realized it had sagged open. Then suddenly Shanna’s eyes flashed with rage, and she whirled in majestic fury, strode to a sea chest and snatched out a heavy woolen blanket, folding it into a long, tight roll as she returned. She placed it carefully in the middle of the bed beneath the top sheet, dividing the area neatly in half. Bracing her hands on the bed, she leaned forward with no modesty at all. The blouse gaped away from her body completely, and Ruark could see to her waist. The very fruit he desired to caress hung ripe, ready to be tasted. In rapt attention, he stared at her display before finally raising his eyes to hers. A withering sneer spread slowly over her face as she looked closely into his.