His Seafaring Siren (Caledonia's Captives) (3 page)

Suddenly, the sails dropped. She had managed to remove the ring and was already climbing back down the ladder that blew heavily in the wind.

Septimus heaved on the lines and allowed the sails to tumble quickly to the deck. Mowriyah was at his side before the top of the sail was completely down, and working the fabric into folds as if she were a seasoned sailor.

The rain poured harder now and the ship was tossed about by the waves. Together, they managed to push the sail below deck without losing their footing. Septimus closed the hatch and turned to see Mowriyah back navigating the rudder, a wild look in her eye and her hair wet and plastered to her face. He rushed to her side and grabbed the stick from her.

“Go down below and wait this out,” he shouted.

“No. This is wonderful!”

Septimus shook his head. “Please!” He knew the storm would get worse; he could feel it in his bones. He had to make sure she was safe. “As your Captain, I command you to go down below!” He set his jaw and squared his shoulders.

Mowriyah’s wide grin and shiny eyes suddenly vanished and were replaced with a cold, hard look that turned Septimus’ stomach. Through clenched teeth, she answered, “As my Captain wishes.”

Septimus watched as she released the rudder and stomped to the stairwell. She descended with the ease of Neptune’s water nymphs. Then she disappeared.

***

Mowriyah stood below deck tightening her fists and releasing them again. Her breathing had elevated and she could feel the warmth in her cheeks.
That man!

The drumming of the heavy rain on the deck above carried throughout the room. The boat’s gentle rocking had turned into bucking and more than once Mowriyah found herself grabbing the side of the wall to steady herself.

The thunder rang out like a gong in her ear. Her fury quickly subsided as worry crept up from her stomach.

As the heavy rains seeped down from the deck through the hatch, she paced the floor to ease her worry and stumbled when the ship jerked side to side with the waves. When she tried to regain her balance, the boat bucked again, slamming her down on her backside.

From above, she heard an ear-splitting crack followed by Septimus yowling. Gripping the hull’s sideboards and wedging her feet between supplies to maintain her balance, she pulled herself upright. Using the hull as her guide, she made her way up the stairs and reopened the hatch, allowing a stream of water to enter the cargo hold.

Seeing Septimus gripping the rudder stick, she pulled herself onto the deck and crawled on all fours to him.

“Go back downstairs,” he screamed through the pounding of the waves and the thunder. A look of anger was evident on his face.

The rain and ocean’s overspray felt like sharp needles stinging her skin as she made her way to Septimus. The lightning flashed so brightly above her, she swore that the sun was high in the sky instead of falling below the horizon. She matched his fevered gaze with her most stubborn look. “I can help you!”

Another large wave crashed against the port side of the ship and Mowriyah clutched at the deck. Inches of water washed over the bow and Mowriyah’s grip slipped with the rushing tide. She pressed her weight into her hands and continued to make her way to Septimus.

When she reached him, he grabbed her by the arm and brought her to her feet, anchoring her to the rudder stick with a line of rope. His eyes were narrowed and his nostrils were flared. “I told you to stay downstairs!”

Mowriyah grabbed the rudder stick tighter and helped Septimus gain control. “We do this together, Captain!”

He let out an aggravated growl. “Curse you, woman!” He shook his head but made no further attempts to make her leave.

Mowriyah watched as the waves rose and fell before her. It looked as if the ocean would simply swallow the ship whole.

The two battled the ocean together for what seemed like hours, manning the rudder and relying on each other’s strength to carry them through.

Once the rain finally stopped, the wind died down, and the waves subsided. Mowriyah looked at Septimus, her body sagging from exhaustion. She allowed herself to crumble to the floor. The last thing she remembered was Septimus picking her up in his arms and carrying her to the cot down in the cargo hold. He kissed her forehead, and told her to sleep.

***

Septimus stood over Mowriyah, worshipping her slender body. She had bewildered him with her strength and tenacity. Now, she dazzled him with her beauty. Even after the horrible night above, she looked angelic with her shoulder-length hair spread across the tattered woolen blanket. He hated waking her, but the crew he had hired were about to begin repairs and they needed to resupply the ship.

He bent forward and nudged her shoulder. “Good morning.” She shifted and fluttered her eyelids. “I know you’re tired, love, but we have much to do.”

Mowriyah stretched and yawned. “Good morning.”

“ I trust you dreamed well.” Septimus reached his hand forward and waited for her to take it. When she finally did, he saw her wince as he noticed the rips on her palm. Immediately he flipped her hands in his and scrutinized every little scratch. “Mowriyah—”

“It’s nothing that won’t heal.” She withdrew her hands and looked around. “Are we moving?”

“No, we’ve arrived in Rome. We took some damage last night in that storm and we need a few minor repairs and some new supplies. Luckily, they felt the storm here as well, and allowed us to dock. It was a perfect cover.”

She heaved herself up from the cot and smiled, straightening out her tunic. “Let me change. I still feel soaked from the rain.”

Septimus withdrew a leather satchel from behind his back. “If you’ll forgive me, I must ask that you wear this.” He pulled the Roman toga that Abagail had once worn from the bag. He saw a look of disgust stretch across her face.

Septimus withdrew from the Captain’s quarters and made his way through the cargo hold and up to the deck. He surveyed the ship once again. The mast was undamaged. The sails below were soaked but would dry out quickly once they were set again. Unfortunately, the railing to the port side of the ship was badly damaged. A five-meter section had been completely torn away by the waves, and from the looks of their supplies below, they would have to throw some out due to the water that had covered the cargo hold’s floor.

He heard the hatch creak and he turned to see Mowriyah emerge in pure Roman elegance. Her hair was spun up into a braid and tucked against the back of her head. She had donned the Roman toga as requested, and filled it out in every imaginable way.

His heartbeat skipped and he felt lightheaded. He couldn’t believe that she could make him feel this way simply by being in his presence. He shook his head, trying to dismiss visions of their shared passions that were suddenly overwhelming his mind.

She walked over to him and batted her long eyelashes. Bending in a small curtsy, she held out her arm. Septimus took it in his and guided her off the ship.

Septimus smelled the lavender that she had rubbed on her skin, and he was in awe of her ability to blend into the Roman streets without any official training.

They walked down the pier and onto the cobblestone roads that weaved through every aspect of Rome’s housing and market. He remembered this place easily. It was familiar and until this moment, he hadn’t realized he had actually missed it.

He guided Mowriyah through the streets, whispering names of places into her ear. She simply kept her poise and walked beside him in a typical Roman carefree way.

“Here.” He pointed to an inn on the right and then led her up the steps and through the door. He surveyed the main area, noting the diverse group that had gathered there, and headed to the counter. “We wish to rent a room for six days.”

The chubby, small man barked out a price and Septimus spoke with him in leveled tones to barter a lower price. The innkeeper agreed to the trade that Septimus suggested and came around the counter to direct them to their quarters.

Septimus placed his hand in the middle of Mowriyah’s back and pushed her ahead of himself. He watched the crowd with great pleasure as every male eye studied Mowriyah’s petite yet curvy frame. The main hall began to disappear from his view as they followed the clerk toward a long hallway. From the corner of his eye, he spied a beautiful blonde sitting at the far end of the room who was staring at him as he walked away.

A hitch caught in his throat as he left the crowded room behind. Surely he hadn’t seen who he thought he had. Paranoia filtered through his body. But if it wasn’t
her
, why had she been staring at him looking so surprised? He tried not to think of her golden hair, her ivory skin, and crystal blue eyes.
She left Rome years ago. It can’t be her.

Entering the room, Septimus dismissed the owner, his thoughts focused on the woman in the main hall.

Mowriyah looked around the small room with its sparse furnishings. “I hope you settled on a good price.” She glanced at him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he blurted. “I thought I saw someone who might have recognized me. But it couldn’t have been. That person left Rome three years ago.”

Mowriyah rushed to his side. “Are you sure? If we’ve come all this way to get caught now, it will have been for nothing.”

Septimus tried to recall the image in his head again.
It can’t be
. He swallowed and tried to muster his most reassuring voice. “I’m quite positive. There is no way that person could still be here.” He congratulated himself silently. It almost sounded convincing.

Septimus walked to the bed and lay on the stuffed mattress. It was firm, but had more give then his ship’s cot, so he was satisfied. He patted the cushion beside him, beckoning to Mowriyah. “Let’s rest for now, love. Tomorrow will begin a series of busy days.”

Mowriyah grinned and grabbed the corner of her toga, unhooking the material from her shoulder and allowing it to fall to the floor.

Septimus watched as she crawled onto the mattress next to him. Her form was a gift from the gods. He reached toward her, stroked her skin, then pulled her close to him, devouring her mouth with his own. He kissed her with a fevered passion, wanting to take all of her, all at once.

She responded with his same urgency. Soon he found himself unable to tell where his body ended and hers began. He was completely enthralled in the moment of sexual need and want with Mowriyah when visions of a naked blonde that he had once known spontaneously filled his mind.

Chapter Three

A sudden banging on the door caused Mowriyah to jump from her blankets and throw her toga on to cover herself. To her right, Septimus was also rushing to do the same. The pounding continued. Septimus looked at her with a suspicious look on his face. She watched as he tiptoed across the floor and made his way to the heavy wooden door.

“What?” he barked.

“Septimus,” a breathy voice replied. “Is that really you?”

Mowriyah watched as a smile played across Septimus’s lips. He reached for the door and jerked it open. Suspicion seeped into her mind as she saw a wicked scene play out before her. A petite blonde with skin as white and flawless as porcelain came racing in and leapt into Septimus’ arms. She wrapped herself around his neck and anchored herself to him.

Heat slammed into Mowriyah’s cheeks as this tiny, well-endowed stranger repeatedly kissed Septimus’s face, covering him in a blanket of affection. Mowriyah saw him lean back and away from the intruder, but the little harlot was persistent. Her heart gave way to waves of palpitations as she jumped up to break up the couple.

“Release me,” Septimus said, trying to pull the she-wolf
off him, but the shameless
lupa
continued to cling to him.

Consumed in jealousy, Mowriyah shouted, “Excuse me!”

The busty blonde stopped her interlude and cocked her head toward Mowriyah. She released her grip and slid down Septimus’s chest until her feet hit the floor. Straightening her toga, she looked at Mowriyah, then back to Septimus, addressing him. “Sorry, love. I didn’t realize you had company.”

Septimus cleared his throat. “Phaedra, I’d like you to meet Mowriyah.” He stepped back, giving Mowriyah full view of their unexpected visitor.

Phaedra moved forward, her eyebrow arched, as if eyeing an unworthy specimen. “A pleasure,” she said with obvious disdain.

Mowriyah bit her lip and tried to crush the impulse to stomp this unwelcome interruption like a bug. She cut her eyes at Phaedra. “Good morning. Who exactly are you?” Mowriyah set her hands on her hips and fought the urge to tap her foot while waiting for a reply.

Phaedra rocked back on her heels and narrowed her eyes in response. “I could ask the same of you.”

Mowriyah felt a burning sensation in the middle of her back. She clenched her jaw and walked forward until Septimus stepped between them.

He turned to Mowriyah and she noticed a pleading look in his eye. “Mowriyah, this is Phaedra, an old friend of mine who has been around Rome for some time.”

“A friend? I’ve never seen two
friends
act quite like that.” She watched him shrink back. “Perhaps I’ll have to greet my friend Decimus like that when we return home.” She saw him wince from the remark.

“Mowriyah, please.”

“Please what, Septimus?” Fuming with the thought of Septimus with this woman, she allowed her anger to bubble out. “Perhaps you wish me to leave, so you can catch up with your old friend.”

“Fine with me, pet.”

“Enough of this!” Septimus shouted above the two. “Mowriyah is my companion now, Phaedra.” He raised his palm to their visitor, warning her to back off the argument.

He turned away from Phaedra and walked toward Mowriyah like a puppy with its tail tucked between his legs. She felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Things had been going so well between the two of them; she had truly thought that he would be on his way to making a real commitment soon. Now she had to deal with one of his past escapades showing up.

“Mowriyah, Phaedra used to be a companion of mine. She left Rome, but not without betraying me first. It’s over.” He shuffled closer to her. “I am with you now.”