Dark Rider (15 page)

“Stay back,” Danemount snapped. “Look at his eyes.”

She could see what he meant. Kapu’s eyes were glittering with panic. She stopped before the stallion, who was still suspended a few inches above the deck. “Put him down.”

“Not yet.”

“I said put him down. He’s afraid. He hates this.”

“He’ll savage you.”

“He won’t hurt me. Not now.” She reached out and touched Kapu’s muzzle with a loving hand. “Is there a stall prepared for him?”

“Yes.” He jerked his head toward an open doorway several yards down the deck. “There’s a ramp leading down to the cargo hold.”

“Then put him down and leave us alone. I’ll lead him to the hold when he’s ready.”

For a moment Danemount didn’t move. Then he motioned for the stallion to be lowered the final few inches. “Stand back and leave the halter on him until he’s calmer.”

She didn’t answer as she stepped forward and buried her face in Kapu’s mane. The horse was trembling
but stayed still beneath her touch. She began to talk to him.

She was only vaguely aware of the others moving away.

“The worst part is over,” she crooned. “It will never be this bad again. Soon I’ll rub you down and feed you your grass. But not yet. We’ll just stay here and get used to the feel of the ship and being together. You don’t have to move until much later.…”

Bradford glanced over his shoulder at the woman and the horse as he walked with Jared along the deck. “I think you should know that you’re never going to get that stallion away from her. She’s besotted with the animal.”

“Do you think I don’t realize that? She almost died for him today.”

“I just thought I’d mention it. I didn’t want you to have any false hopes. By the way, the two of you worked quite well together to save him. Does it foster a feeling of comradeship in your breast?”

“Not a whit.”

“I think it will. It’s almost impossible to ignore such a bond.”

“The only things I can’t ignore at present are your erroneous pronouncements and these sopping-wet clothes.” He glanced about him. “And where is our other guest? In her cabin?”

Bradford nodded toward the forecastle, where Lani was standing quietly looking down on Cassie and Kapu. “Watching over her charge. She’s very protective. A fine quality. You should appreciate it since you apparently have it in abundance. What a splendid gesture. My heart was quite touched when you dived into
the sea.” He snapped his fingers. “But of course—it wasn’t due to your concern for the girl herself. It was the horse and the possibility of losing a hostage.”

Ignoring the mockery, Jared looked back over his shoulder. It was fully dark now and he could see Cassie only as a gleam of white and Kapu as a stiff, unmoving bulk. There was no telling how long it would take to bring the horse to a state calm enough to be moved, and Cassie would not hurry him even if it took all night.

“Shall we set sail?” Bradford asked.

The movement of the ship would only make Cassie’s task of quieting the stallion harder. “Not for a while. There’s no hurry. I’ll tell you when.”

“For God’s sake, get out of that stall. Do you want him to trample you?”

Cassie raised her head from the straw to see Jared standing in the doorway of the cargo hold. The candle in his hand cast shadows on the planes of his face. Shadows … He was always half in shadow, she thought. The outer shell sleek and glittering, and beneath … darkness and mystery. She raised herself on one elbow. “He won’t trample me. He’s much calmer now.”

“And what will he do once we set sail?” He moved forward to stand at the door of the stall. “Will he still be calm when the ship is no longer rocking like a cradle but skittering and pitching?”

“That’s why I’m here.” She sat up and brushed her hair back from her face. It was stiff and wiry from the salt water, and too dry. So was her skin. Everything about her felt parched and taut, and she thought longingly of the coconut oil they had packed in Lani’s
trunk. “I’ve been waiting for you to up anchor. Why haven’t you done it?”

“My apologies. I foolishly thought that you might need a little time to get the horse adjusted.” He hung the lantern on the post beside the stall. “I told Bradford to up anchor and set sail in a quarter hour. I hope that will be satisfactory?”

“Yes.” She was too weary to bristle at his sarcasm. Besides, he had done her a great service by helping to save Kapu. “I only wondered.”

He raised his brows in surprise. “No stinging retort? Are you quite well? Perhaps it was your head and not your shoulder that was damaged.”

“I’m not always argumentative. You’re the one who—” She stopped and then said, “You see. It’s you who sting. I’m trying not to be unpleasant.”

“Why on earth?”

“Kapu.” She lowered her eyes and said haltingly, “Not that I couldn’t have managed by myself, but you made things a good deal easier.”

“Thank you.”

Sarcasm again, and she felt shamed. His action had been both brave and generous and deserved a generous response. She lifted her gaze and met his directly. “All right. There’s a possibility I might not have been able to get the ropes onto Kapu. You helped me and you have my thanks.”

He was a silent a moment and then said, “No thanks are necessary. I acted on impulse. I saw a fine horse in danger and did what had to be done.” He smiled crookedly. “So you needn’t dilute your hatred with gratitude.”

“I don’t hate you.” The words had tumbled out, but she suddenly realized they were true. Her emotions toward Danemount were confused, but hatred
was not among them. “Not yet. But if you hurt my father, I’ll hate you. I’ll hate you and I’ll hurt you.”

“Only an eye for an eye? I’m surprised you’re being so magnanimous.”

“You believe you’re doing what’s right. Lani taught me that I had to try to see both sides of an argument. She even made excuses for Clara.”

His expression hardened. “I don’t need excuses made for me.”

“Because you’ve always lived a perfect and righteous life?” she flared. “It must be splendid to be able to cast the first stone.”

“I wasn’t the one who cast the first stone. It was your father.”

“You can’t be sure. You have no proof.” She drew a deep, ragged breath. “I will talk no more about this with you. It does no good.”

“On the contrary, it completely purged you of that annoying flash of gratitude. You must be much more comfortable now. You can be as—” He broke off when the ship suddenly dipped and swayed. Kapu neighed and half reared! “On your feet and out of that stall! We’re putting about.”

Cassie scrambled to her feet but inched closer to Kapu instead of leaving the stall. “Shh, it’s all right. It’s going to be fine.” She put her arms around his neck. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Keep talking to him.” Jared stepped into the stall with them. “But stay away from those hooves.” He began to stroke Kapu’s head and talk in the same low, soothing tone as Cassie.

The stallion was quieting, Cassie realized in relief. He was responding to Jared in the same magical fashion as he had that night on the beach. Strangely, unlike that night, she felt no resentment—only
gratitude. Together they were calming Kapu, making him safer. She was aware of that same bond with Jared that she had felt in the water when they were trying to get the pulley ropes fastened.

It was over a quarter of an hour before Kapu was calm enough for Jared to step away from the stallion. “I don’t suppose you’ll feel safe enough tonight to leave him and go to your cabin?”

She shook her head. “I’ll stay here. The straw is soft. When I first got him, I slept in the stable for more than a month.”

“May I point out that you hadn’t fallen down a mountain or been dashed against a ship?” He shrugged when she didn’t answer. “I didn’t think so.” He sat down on the straw in the far corner of the stall.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll stay awhile.” He grimaced. “Not a month. I’m not that much of a Spartan. Only a few hours to make sure the progress we’ve made isn’t ruined by any rough weather. Sit down.” When she didn’t move, he added impatiently, “For God’s sake, sit down before you fall. I’m not in the least tempted to ravish you at the moment.”

“I know that.” She settled herself in the corner farthest from him. “You’d have to be extremely lacking in taste to desire a woman who looks like a bit of stringy seaweed.”

“Maybe I like seaweed.” He leaned back against the wall. “I’ve been known to have more perverted appetites.”

“Really?” she asked curiously. “What?” Then, as she saw him smile, she added quickly, “Lihua says most foreigners are perverted and that they should realize the direct way is best.”

“Indeed?” His brows lifted. “I don’t recall Lihua
ever complaining of my perversions. She must have realized how brutal I’d be if she angered me.”

“You know she thought you—” She stopped when his smile widened.

“A God?”

“Lihua has little judgment.”

He clutched his chest with a mock groan. “What a sharp thrust.” His smile faded. “Though I tend to agree. She should certainly have used better judgment in discussing such subjects with you.”

“Because you think what you do is sinful? It’s all right to perform such acts but not to subject them to the light of day?”

“Oh, I enjoy subjecting them to the light of day. Morning is a particularly felicitous time to—”

“You know what I mean,” she cut into his sentence. “You think Lihua and the other islanders are sinful, but you take advantage of that sinfulness.”

“You’ve made that accusation before.” He asked quietly, “You’re calling me a hypocrite?”

“What else is there to call you?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps you’re right,” he said wearily. “I admire the islanders, and I envy their honesty and openness, but everyone is raised to think his own way best. It could be that some part of me does condemn them for being different from me. But that part is not my mind or my will.”

When she had made the accusation, she had been seeking to put up barriers between them and had not wanted him to answer with such simple honesty. First gratitude, and then the bond of shared danger, and now she was beginning to understand him. Dangerous. She searched desperately for a way to distance herself. She said tartly, “Well, it’s certainly not your lower parts that condemn their difference.”

The gravity vanished from his face as he threw back his head and laughed. “No, by God, that part of me is totally mindless. I accept everything with no prejudice whatever.” He met her gaze. “As you will learn to do.”

She felt a tightness in her chest and that curious sensation of breathlessness. She said unevenly, “But you’ll not be the one to teach me. You don’t really want me. You only want to punish my father.”

“The
hell
I don’t want you. Deville has nothing to do with this.”

She was shaken by the violence in his voice. “Of course he does. Otherwise it makes no sense.”

“Carnal pleasures seldom do. Passion can strike out of nowhere. You should know that since you must have seen it every day on your island.”

She had seen it, but it had always happened to Lihua and the others, not to her. She shook her head in disbelief. “It’s not true. I’m not beautiful like Lihua or Lani. I’m not the kind of woman for whom a man conceives such a passion.”

“Shall I convince you?” He leaned forward, his eyes blazing recklessly in the dimness. “I lied, you know. You’re right, you look like a scrap of flotsam. You’re dirty and tired. You have straw clinging to your hair and body and salt coating you from head to toe. You should have no appeal at all for me. Do you know what I’d like to do to you right now?”

She moistened her lips. “No.”

“I want to take off that chemise and lick the salt from your breasts.” His eyes fastened on the damp cotton veiling the swell of her breasts. “I want to taste you. I want to pull at your nipples with my teeth. I want to make a feast of you.” His gaze never left her body. “And I think you want me to do that, too.”

Blood was pounding through her veins. She felt on fire, her skin tingling. “No,” she whispered.

“Look down at yourself.”

She didn’t have to look down, she could feel her breasts swelling beneath his eyes, her nipples hardening and pushing against the soft cotton barrier. “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just … I’m startled.”

“You’re ready,” he corrected softly. “Beautifully ready.”

“I couldn’t be.” She swallowed to ease the tightness of her throat. “Not with you.”

“Because you regard me as your enemy? It doesn’t make any difference. Not in this.”

“Of course it makes a difference,” she said fiercely. “I’m not an animal. I have control of my body. I wouldn’t let myself—” She broke off and then said, “Go away. I don’t want you here.”

“Unfortunate.” He leaned back against the wall. “But I’m not leaving until I’m sure the stallion is settled. After all, nothing has changed. I told you I have no intention of ravishing you tonight. You’ve had a bad time, and I find myself deplorably brimming with the milk of human kindness. Most unusual.”

He was wrong. Something had changed. Her body had betrayed her, was still betraying her. She felt weak and vulnerable and needed time to rebuild her defenses. “I don’t need you. Go away.”

He didn’t move.

She closed her eyes, but she could still feel him staring at her.

“But I’m not so filled with sympathy that I won’t give you something to think about.” His voice was soft and sensuous. “One of the times I’m going to take you will be in a stable. You’ll be naked and feel the faint abrasiveness of the straw against your breasts
and belly as I move inside you. Have you ever seen a stallion mount a mare?”

She didn’t answer.

“Of course you have. You’re planning on having a horse farm of your own. Did the mating excite you? The drive, the hard thrust, the joining …”

She felt a tingling between her legs as she remembered the sight of that mating.
Don’t think of it
. She was not an animal, a mare for the mounting.

The hay smelled clean, and she was aware of it prickling her skin through the thin cotton. She was acutely aware of him only a few yards away: man … stallion.

“Did the mare scream when he entered her?”