Enter The Brethren (The Brethren of the Coast) (3 page)

She should be scandalized.

She should be outraged.

She should shout her displeasure from the highest yardarm.

Instead, Caroline reminded herself he thought her a courtesan and could not resist lifting the covers for a quick peek.

When climbing between the sheets the previous evening, she had thought she would be sleeping alone.  Trevor had promised she would not be disturbed, so it was easy to assume he would be bunking with the crew.  So much for assumptions.  In future, she would be vigilant in clarifying such important matters.

At some point during the night she had curled up next to him.  The robe she had tucked snug around herself was now parted, and her bare skin rested against his.  The crisp hair on his chest tickled her breast, and the weight across her waist was his muscled arm.

Oh, my
.

Caroline wondered what her family would think if they could see her now, for all intents and purposes, nude, nestled beside an equally naked man.  Her mother would no doubt swoon.  Her brother would kill them both.  She, however, was fascinated and frightened at once.

Fascinated because he made her heart pound.

Frightened because he made her heart pound.

Though men usually seemed disinterested in her, she always found them an intriguing lot.  Curiosity nipped at her senses until Caroline relented and risked a glimpse at his face.  Though his eyes were closed, she could envision their piercing green depths under thickly lashed lids.  Since it could not hurt, she availed herself of the opportunity to study the rest of her rescuer’s sun-kissed visage, and he was a beauty.

A wide forehead sat above arched brows.  His hair, more shades of brown than she ever knew existed, had gold highlights running throughout.  It was thick and wavy and fell unruly about his face, and she just resisted the urge to tame a wayward lock.  A patrician nose sat amid chiseled cheekbones.  His proud chin she knew so well, because she focused on it whenever his stare overwhelmed her, and that happened more often than she was willing to admit.  But his mouth, now that was a marvel of unutterable perfection.  What would it hurt to claim just one kiss from her captor?  If only he were ugly.

In slumber, Trevor appeared harmless, almost boyish, but she knew better.  He was a sleeping dragon that could breathe fire and warm her toes, and he did so with a frequency she found quite unnerving
.
  She was still admiring his lips when the corners of his mouth quirked.  Peering up, she was caught by a pair of green eyes.

“Good morning, my lady,” he purred.  “I trust you passed a pleasant night?”

Inhaling, slow and steady, she tried to remain calm.  But it ought to be a sin for a man to be so lovely, especially in the morning.  Were she standing, Caroline was certain she would have melted into the floor, which brought to mind the danger her would-be benefactor presented.  Could Dalton not have gambled with someone old and fat?  Wrenching back in a tangle of silk sheets, her hasty scramble ceased when the arm around her waist tightened as a steel band.

“No, do not run away.”  Trevor laughed.  “I promise not to bite, at least, not yet.  Besides, we have business to discuss.”

“But--now?  Here?”  Clutching the sheet to her chin, Caroline righted herself and ignored the shiver of panic tickling her spine.  “In bed?”

“Considering the topic,” he said as he nipped the crest of her ear, “I cannot think of a more appropriate place.”

The topic, she recalled, was that he wanted her to be his mistress.  She’d heard tales of wild abandon concerning her brother, his friends, and their courtesans, so her current predicament was not so much cause for concern in regard to her safety as it was for her reputation.  The sole function of a mistress was to provide his relief.  While she did not know the exact details, the mechanics, she had a general idea what was involved.  Problem was, despite what he thought, she was no courtesan.

Oh, my
.

“Trevor--or should I address you as Captain?”

With a countenance she would characterize as...wolfish, he tapped a finger to the tip of her nose.  “Call me whatever you wish.”

Several possible addresses popped into her head.

Rake.

Darling.

Mine.

Of course, that was neither possible nor realistic, even in light of her past humiliation, because her family would never consider Trevor suitable marriage material, not that she wanted to marry him.  In a flash, images of her mother and brother appeared before her, and one word claimed her thoughts to the detriment of all else.

Forbidden.

“Captain, please, release me.”  Caroline squirmed in his embrace and tried not to contemplate the firm body pressed to hers.  “It is very difficult to concentrate on the matter at hand while lying abed with you.”

“Really?  And why is that?”  His baritone poured over her as honey on a hot scone, and the expression on his face was one of wicked thoughts, similar to hers no doubt.  “Could it be that you want me as I want you?”

“Captain--I mean, Trevor, do you have to do that?”  She swatted at his hand, which was stroking her flesh, in a pathetic attempt to cease the unwarranted but maddeningly delightful attention.  “I can’t think.”

In silence, Caroline rebuked herself and struggled to suppress her reaction.  What mystical power did this man possess to affect her so?  Good heavens, it was an effort just to breathe.  What on earth had Dalton been thinking, divulging her presence to such a dangerous individual?

With a chuckle, he released his hold on her and crossed his arms behind his head.  “All right, my lady, if you insist on thinking and talking, pray, continue.”

Resituating her robe, Caroline scrambled for the foot of the bed and what she considered relative safety as her toes hit the floor.  Of course, her frazzled sense of duty would improve if she would stop ogling his chiseled chest and broad shoulders.  Could the man not put on clothes?

Because she could resist anything but temptation.

“Trevor, I am flattered by your offer--”

“Flattery was not my intention.”  He sat upright, and the sheet dropped to his hips.

Positive she was going to faint at any moment, Caroline blinked and turned her back to him.  It should be a crime for a man to be so beautiful.  She had known him a short while and yet he already made her want to be bad.  Problem was, she was not sure what being bad with the handsome captain entailed.

“My singular thought was of the mutual pleasure and comfort we could share while journeying to London.  I doubt a woman of your profession would be offended by the suggestion, and I do not think your benefactor would mind.  In fact, he would be grateful you saw fit to compensate me in his stead.”

She peered at him over her shoulder.  “C-compensate?”

“Yes.”  Trevor smiled.  “In lieu of funds for your safe passage to London.  Actually, Randolph hinted he would be amenable to such an agreement.”

Shoulders squared, Caroline faced him.  “H-he did?”  It was too ridiculous.  Dalton knew she could not give herself to this man.  Perhaps her friend had been attempting a ruse, because the truth would have garnered both of them a sea of trouble.  Drowning in a mix of confusion and fear, she chewed her lip, a nervous habit she had long suffered since childhood and had failed to break.

Trevor flung the covers aside and tossed his legs over the edge of the bed.  “My dear, sit down.  You are as white as a ghost.”  Stark naked, he walked to her.

Temptation beckoned, luring her as a lodestone.  In vain, Caroline staged a valiant battle against her own inquisitiveness.  She wanted to look; was compelled to let her gaze travel south of his belly button.

So she did.

A one-eyed monster, thick and intimidating, stared back at her.  Jutting, proud and formidable, almost angry, from a nest of brown curls, the mystery of flesh pointed straight in her direction.

Caroline swooned.

In her fogged brain, she told herself her reaction was justified.  The only experience she had with the male form was from childhood.  During the summer months, she, her brother, and their friends used to swim
au naturel
in the pond near her country home.  It had been harmless.  Innocent.  And as far as she could recall, none of the boys had ever appeared so healthy.

For a moment, she revisited fonder times, was lost in the past.  But the present ensnared her when Trevor hovered.  Emitting a cursed shriek, she cringed.

“For the love of Christ, would you stop doing that?”  He shoved off the bed and stormed across the cabin.  “One would think I had assaulted you.”

“I am sorry, but you did bring me here against my will, or have you conveniently forgotten that?”  Discovering she was back on the mattress, Caroline stretched and kept her eyes on his profile, lest she embarrass herself and faint again.  “And I have not agreed to be your courtesan.”

At his locker, he paused to pull on a pair of breeches.  With unveiled impatience, he raked a hand through his hair and took to pacing.

“I have met some unwieldy women in my day, but you are a contradiction.”  Suddenly, Trevor marched to the side of the bunk.  With hands on hips he glared at her.  “By your chosen profession, you exist to pleasure men, and I only want to make love to you.  Do you not see that our tale will make you a legend?  How is it that we are at odds?”

If only she could trust him.

If only she could tell him the truth.

“You are so sure of yourself, yet you know nothing of me.”

“And I could say the same of you, Mistress Caroline.  What am I missing?”

“I simply cannot give you what you want.”

“Why?”

Caroline needed an excuse, but her usual collection proved either irrelevant or inadequate, so she grasped at a straw.  “Because you are a stranger to me.”

“Since when does a doxy require familiarity with a client in order to spread her legs?” he asked, shrugging into a shirt.

Resisting the urge to shout denial, she seized the opportunity to advance her cause.  “As you have pointed out, I am unlike most women.  Perhaps, if you shared some personal history with me, I would be more amenable to your offer.”

Trevor arched a brow.  “Ask me a question I will answer.”

“Are you a pirate?”

“Now you insult me.”

She propped herself on an elbow.  “Well, in light of your behavior, it was a plausible conclusion.”

“Mistress Caroline, a pirate would not negotiate, as would a gentleman.  A pirate would take you, with or without your permission, and give you overboard.”  He sat to pull on his boots.  “Do you still think me a pirate?”

“No.”  All right, the threat to her person was not as dire as previously thought.  So how could she resolve her predicament?  The grand scheme she concocted had resulted in disaster, and Dalton’s involvement could taint him, as well.  She refused to sully her lifelong friend in scandal, so she had to devise a new game, one that would see her returned to London with no additional stain to her reputation.  “Then why are you not in the Navy?  That is to say, England is at war.  Why do you not fight?”

“I served my commission with honor.”  Trevor walked to the washstand.  “But I had enough.  I have done my part for King and Country.”

“I see.”  In silence, she calculated.  There had to be a way out of her dilemma.  “And you knew Dalton when you were in service?”

“Aye, and his elder brother Dirk.”

Oh, dear.  That could complicate her plan.

“Are you much acquainted with the Randolphs?”

“No.” He lifted a pitcher and poured water into the basin.  “Not since I left the Navy.”

Sweet relief.  “Well then, Captain, I will make you a bargain.”

His face covered with shaving soap, he froze.  “Madame, you have my attention, unreservedly.”

Desperate times necessitated desperate measures.

And Caroline was a desperate woman.

“I will be your mistress until we get to London provided that, once we arrive, we part ways, never to see each other again.”

Was it her imagination, or wishful thinking, or did the charming seaman seem rather put out by her proposal?

“Done.”  Well, maybe he was not so put out as she thought.

“And one more thing.”

“How much?”

“I do not want your money, Captain.”

Now she was positive she had surprised him.  “Then what do you want?”

Inhaling a deep breath, she squared her shoulders.  “Your word that you will not force me to do anything until I am ready.”

“What the deuce does that mean?”

“It means that we begin with a kiss until I permit more.”

How much harm could he do with such limits?

With a sly smile that immediately had her rethinking her strategy, Trevor dropped his shaving brush into the basin, marched straight to her, wound an arm about her waist, hauled her against him, and planted his lips to hers.

And Caroline could only pray that she made the voyage to London, virtue intact.

#

Desire was a potent intoxicant.

Now Caroline understood why masters of the Renaissance wrote of it, why women lived for it, and why men killed for it.

How unfair it was that the only man who wanted her, gentleman or otherwise, thought her a whore.

Standing at the larboard rail, clothed in a shirt and breeches borrowed from a member of the crew, because the cabin boy’s togs were too small to accommodate her feminine curves, she inhaled the familiar and comforting scent of brine mixed with kelp.

Before her, the sky was a lustrous blue canopy, reflected in the ocean surrounding the ship.  Sunlight frolicked on the ripples and swells, shimmering as countless shards of the finest crystal.  Beneath the surface, shadows danced an elegant waltz, allusive of the life thriving in the watery depths below.  Wind whipped the rigging, crackling the air as it filled the canvas, and waves crashed against the hull, sounding thunderous roars as the
Hera
swam the seas.

Three days had passed since she enacted her bargain with Trevor.  Three days of stealthy attacks, some inexpressibly tender, others not so much, but always in obeisance of her terms.  Three days of assault on her senses and determination to avoid what he thought their inevitable fate.