She did as he directed, settling her face in the crook of his neck and closing her eyes.
He grasped the ladder with his one hand while he held her easily against him with his other. He made the climb in minutes, taking the rope rungs with sure and experienced steps.
Santos waited on deck to offer assistance. Lucian required none. He was over the railing and on deck lifting Catherine up into his arms in minutes.
"Weigh anchor as soon as the men are on deck and get us the bloody hell out of here," Lucian ordered before walking off with Catherine to his cabin.
He gently lowered her to stand in the middle of the room, his arm remaining around her. "You need to get out of these damp clothes." His hand moved from around her waist to the ties of her pink linen smock.
She looked up at him as he worked the strings free. She thought to say something, to brush his hands away, but she remained silent.
He watched her eyes study him with uncertainty. His fingers worked steadily until finally each enclosure had been freed. He spread the smock open.
"Thank you for the pearls," she said as he stared down at the strand of pearls that rested just above her rounded stomach.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Lucian hooked the strand of pearls on his finger. "Do you seek protection against me?"
She grabbed the necklace away from him, hugging it to her chest. "I seek peace for myself and my family."
Lucian turned away from her, roughly discarding his damp shirt. "I regret my decision in returning you to your father."
Catherine made no move to shed her damp shift though she shivered from the chill of it. "Why?" Your plan was extremely successful. My father suffered numerous remarks attacking my virtue and I suffered countless propositions."
Lucian turned, having pulled off his boots and stockings and tossed his sash to the floor. "Your father deserved what he suffered, but not at your expense."
"If my father suffers, I suffer. Can't you understand that?"
She looked on the verge of tears and she shivered. Immediately his concern turned to her condition and that of his unborn child. "Take that shift off now."
"No!"
He growled an oath beneath his breath as he walked over to her. "You're chilled. It's no good for you or the child. We'll talk tomorrow."
"Until this rift between you and my father is settled I have nothing more to say to you."
"I have nothing to say to your father, madam, but I have plenty to say to you. And we'll begin with my child nestled so comfortably in your belly."
She took a step back and toyed with the pearls, her emotions too near the surface to control. "What of the child?" she demanded defensively.
"Why didn't you tell me of him?" He stepped closer.
She backed up again. "I saw no reason. You made your intentions clear. You wanted revenge. What difference would it have made if I carried your child?"
He moved up beside her, "I no longer want revenge." His hands rode low on her hips slowly inching up her damp shift. "I only want you and our child."
"Lucian." She whispered his name on a shaky breath.
"I've missed you, angel. Bloody hell, but I've missed you. That's why I came for you. I can't live without you." He eased her shift up and over her head, dropping it in a heap on the floor.
He stripped himself of his breeches and eased her down on the bed, following her. He slipped them both beneath the quilt, his muscular leg wrapping around her slender one and his hand caressing the swell of her belly. "Let me warm you, angel."
Tired and weary from her long night, and astonished that he had admitted that he missed her, she snuggled against him, surrendering to his superior strength and his familiar protection. "I'm so tired, Lucian."
He ached to make love to her, throbbing in a readiness he had not experienced since he had last been with her. Surprisingly her figure so ripe with his child had fueled his desire beyond reason. But her fatigue was all too evident and she obviously required rest.
"Sleep," he whispered against her temple, cradling her safely against him. Tomorrow would be time enough to tell her he loved her. Time enough to lay the past to rest. Time enough to speak of marriage and eternity together. Time enough to make love to her.
o0o
"Two damn bloody weeks since we returned and she's been an obstinate little bit —"
Santos shrugged. "What did you expect? You sent her away and then you decided you wanted her back. Now you think she should fall willingly into your arms."
Lucian watched Catherine from the veranda on the side of the house. She sat contentedly reading beneath an age-old shade tree. She wore a simple cotton dress, her hair braided to lie over her shoulder, and her skin had warmed to a golden honey from her constant days in the sun. She looked healthy, vibrant, and tempting.