The ship dipped and rose gracefully riding the endless sea with dignity. He braced his feet more firmly on the deck and held his head high. It had taken time and patience to regain his dignity, having been treated far worse than the lowliest animal for what seemed like countless years. And through all that time he had recalled over and over the name of the man who had condemned him to suffer the tortures of hell. Abelard. Abelard. Abelard.
Catherine. Her name rushed to his lips and in a soft whisper he released it, the night breeze catching it from his tongue and carrying it away.
She presented an obstacle to his plan, a serious obstacle. He had intended to seduce, now he was the one being seduced, and with great skill. When she had caressed his cheek and had so sumptuously informed him that she wouldn’t hurt him, he had thought his control would snap and that he would rip his shirt and those damn pearls off her and give her exactly what she had ached for from the first day in his cabin. But he had managed to control the fiery passion that had raced through his veins.
He took a deep, fortifying breath of sea air, lifting his face to the heavens and locking his eyes on the star-studded night sky.
“An angel,” he whispered and as though the heavens agreed, a spray of sea mist sprinkled his face.
He shook his head as if in disagreement, recalling how she had offered to pleasure him with pain. The sensuous suggestion alone was enough to rush his manhood to stiff erection and his anger to boiling. She may look like an angel, but she possessed a harlot’s soul.
He would deal with that, he had no choice, if he was to accomplish what he had set out to do — ruin the Marquis of Devonshire.
“She obeys you well.”
Lucian showed no surprise at Santos’s approach. He was attuned to every movement on the ship and was surprised by none, except from the woman below in his cabin. Her every movement surprised him. “I’m her master and she knows it.”
“Then perhaps you should master the one below,” Santos suggested, placing his hand on the wheel to transfer command.
Lucian gave it up freely. “You know my thoughts well.”
Santos shrugged while holding the huge wheel steady. “I assumed in time you would realize what must be done and do it. I grow tired of the sea and I miss Zeena. Finish this business and quickly so we many return home.”
“It may be necessary to take her to the island.”
Santos shrugged again. “So take her and be done with it. Use whatever is necessary. Command her as you command this ship and see that once and for all you quench that vengeance that eats at you.”
Lucian stepped in front of the wheel to look his friend straight in the eye. “Are you suggesting that Catherine Abelard commands me?”
Santos met his friend’s stare straight on. “I don’t suggest I tell you what I see with my own eyes and I see that you don’t see the truth.”
His voice was low and demanding. “Then tell me truth as you see it, Santos.”
The short man shook his head. “I can tell you nothing. You must discover it for yourself or it will hold no meaning for you.”
“You talk in riddles like Zeena.”
Santos laughed. “She taught me the lessons well. Now it is your turn to learn.”
“What lessons?” Lucian asked irritably.
“About life, my friend.”
“I learned my lessons the hard way,” Lucian said, “or have you forgotten?”
“No, I haven’t forgotten, but I have learned from them and let them go. You have held steadfast and still seek revenge. Be careful what you seek doesn’t come back to seek you.”
“Again riddles,” Lucian said in disgust.
“There are no riddles when you see the truth. Do what you must, Lucian, but keep your eyes open wide as you go.”
“My eyes are wide and my path is clear. I’ll have my revenge.” He turned and walked away, the night swallowing him up.
o0o
Catherine had just settled herself in bed for the night, content that once again the captain would spend the evening elsewhere and leave her alone.
The opening of the cabin door startled her and without thinking she sat up in bed, bracing her hands behind her.
Captain Lucifer stepped quickly into the room. He captured her shocked expression with his confident one. He gave the door a hard shove behind him.
The click of the latch sent a shiver through her, but she moved not a muscle. She just continued to watch him.
He walked to the end of the bed and with deft hands he stripped himself of his clothes in only minutes, resigning them to a heap on the floor.
Catherine kept her eyes on his face, not daring to glance lower though her warning voice told her she should. She just couldn’t. Lord, she couldn’t bring herself to view his private parts. The scope of his broad chest and the fullness of his muscled arms were enough for her to speculate on how large the rest of him actually was.