Jo Goodman (27 page)

"I thought you wanted to discuss terms."

She stared at the ceiling. Her voice was almost inaudible. "Tomorrow morning."

Decker shook his head. "We're speaking of my payment," he said. "I've learned that's the sort of thing that shouldn't wait. Tell me what you had in mind."

It had been too easy to imagine that he had really wanted her. In those moments when he was touching her gently, seeking a response from her body to match his own, Jonna could believe that his desire was prompted by something other than her proposal. She died a little inside knowing it wasn't that way at all. Her suggestion had knocked him back, her terms had insulted him, yet his pride was insufficient to tell her no. It wasn't because he wanted her, but because he wanted what she had.

Jonna mocked herself with a small, wry smile. She was a fine one to speak of pride when she had so little herself. He could have had her again on this bed and she would have let him. She would have given him license to do anything—
everything
—except amuse himself at her expense. She was not so wretched a creature that she could tolerate that.

"I thought I would buy you a house," she said quietly. "Somewhere in Boston where I'm not known."

"So you can visit."

"Yes," she said. "You'll be away for weeks when you're at sea, but I'll give you money for a good staff."

"Better than those girls Mrs. Davis trains."

She shrugged. "You may hire them yourself. Train them yourself. I don't care if you have a hundred or five. I just don't want any of them there when I am present."

Decker plumped a pillow under his head and stared at her, fascinated. "I should have some sort of allowance."

It had occurred to her as well. "In addition to your wages I can pay you something quarterly out of my trust account. I have no idea how much that should be."

"I suppose it depends on how well I perform my duties," he said dryly.

Jonna shook her head. Her brow knit, and her mouth flattened seriously. "No, I don't think that should enter into it. I mean, there should be a standard amount you can count on to pay your employees and run the house, separate of what... separate of our... that is, not dependent upon..."

"My ability to pleasure you," he finished helpfully. Decker regretted putting out the lamp. The firelight was insufficient to see Jonna's flaming face. He had to be satisfied with imagining it.

She nodded in agreement and named a sum she thought he would require for his household and personal needs.

Decker just managed not to choke. "Aren't you afraid of making me a rich man?" he asked. "Then you'd have to marry me."

"I'd have to love you first, and I'd have to like you before that."

The verbal blow had the impact of a physical one, driving the breath from Decker's lungs. It was a moment before he could speak. "Then there's no danger of you accepting my proposal."

She turned her head toward him. His face was mostly in shadow, but she could make out his ice blue eyes regarding her steadily. "No danger," she said. "Were you going to make one?"

"I may have," he said. "In the event you found yourself pregnant."

Jonna managed to still her panic. "I wouldn't expect it," she said evenly.

"Good. Because I won't offer." He raised himself on one elbow. "This business of liking and loving has to be mutual, Jonna. I don't have many finer feelings where you're concerned, only baser ones." His hand snaked under the covers and found Jonna's wrist. He pulled her toward him, pinning her back when she struggled. His hands held her face so she couldn't look away. "Shall I tell you what
I
want?" he asked.

Caught between his hands, Jonna could only make a small nod.

Decker smiled. His eyes dropped to the ivory pendant between her breasts then came back to her.
"Huntress,
"he said. "I want your flag ship."

Chapter 8

Jonna simply stared at Decker. When there was no change in his expression, no relaxing of his hold on her gaze, she realized he was serious. She wedged her hands between their bodies, found leverage against his chest, and pushed hard. Even then she knew she was free because Decker allowed it.

He rolled over and lay back on the bed as Jonna sat up. He let her yank one of the blankets free and tuck it around her breasts. He sighed. "I suppose I should have made my terms clear at the outset."

"I suppose you should have," she said. "I'm not giving you
Huntress.
You can't really believe that is a reasonable request."

He shrugged. "I don't think that matters. It's what I want." He turned on his side, giving her his back. The discussion was over as far as he was concerned.

"I'm not going to change my mind," she said.

He plumped the pillow under his head and closed his eyes. "Go to sleep, Jonna."

The thing that surprised her was, she did.

* * *

Slim beams of light from a cold, white winter sun slipped through an opening in the drapes. Neither Decker nor Jonna stirred. She was comfortably cradled by his body, her bottom snug against his groin, his arm tucked under her breasts. Their breathing was soft, almost in unison. They shared the same pillow. In time they shared the same dream.

The need was mutual. It began with the heat that lingered where they touched. It was there at her breasts and at the backs of her thighs. He felt it run the length of him. The fragrance of her hair made him draw a deeper breath. The warmth of his breath made her turn her head.

They moved together, his mouth on her neck, her body stretching sleepily. He kissed her shoulder. Her hand moved along his thigh. Above his arm her breasts swelled slightly. At her back he was hard.

She turned, murmured something under her breath, and pressed against him. Her thighs parted and then he was inside her. Her mouth found his, and she kissed him deeply. Her hands caressed his shoulders. She rubbed against his chest to satisfy the ache in her breasts. Her thighs tightened as she felt him move.

There was no urgency yet. Positions changed slowly and the kisses were languorous. She rocked against him. Her slender frame stretched sinuously. She kissed the underside of his jaw, his throat. The edge of her tongue traced his collarbone. Her mouth was warm, and the hum of her pleasure caused a vibration just under his skin. He whispered her name, and there was heat now even where she didn't touch him.

She was under him, holding him with her thighs. She unfolded against him and ran her feet down the length of his legs. He arched, deepening his thrust. She sighed.

He moved in her slowly. His selfish pleasure satisfied them both. He kissed her breasts and took a nipple into his mouth. He tugged lightly with his teeth until she cried out softly.

It was his own name he heard. He opened his eyes and stared at her. She was watching him, alert now, as if she too had been awakened by the sound of her own voice. They said nothing. His head bent slowly, giving her time to avert hers. She didn't. Their mouths touched, just in a whisper at first, then deeply, hotly, and with purpose.

Awareness changed the rhythm of their joining. There was no sleepy arch to her body as he thrust into her this time, no light caress across his back. Jonna's heels dug into the mattress as she raised herself against him and her fingertips pressed whitely into his shoulders. He moved in her hard and she accepted him, accepted his urgency and need because it mirrored her own. She accepted the faint edge of anger which drove him now. She understood it, even embraced it. There was no denying that she wanted him. She only wanted to deny it. He was no different. Their bodies had betrayed them; the anger was there because their minds had not.

Tension pulled her body taut. Her throat arched. She closed her eyes as the first wave of pleasure shuddered through her and opened them again as she felt his.

Afterward she thought he would let her go. He didn't. He remained inside her a little longer, until their breathing slowed and their heartbeats settled. Even when he eased out of her he kept her close, laying an arm across her waist. She didn't try to move away. She didn't want to.

"This doesn't change anything," he said quietly. There was enough light in the room that he could see her face clearly now. He wondered how much longer they had before servants would intrude. "I want you, but I need
Huntress. "

"You already command her," she said.

"I want to own her."

Jonna's eyes narrowed fractionally as she searched his features. There was an edge to his tone that hinted of something else. "We're still talking about the clipper, aren't we?"

Nothing in Decker's face changed. "What else?"

She tried to make out what he was thinking. His blue eyes were cool as his smile and just as impenetrable. "For a moment..." Her voice trailed off.

"Yes?"

She was mistaken, of course. He hadn't been speaking of her. "Nothing," she said. Uncomfortable, Jonna looked away. Over Decker's shoulder she could see the shifting pattern of white light on the walls. "I want to go to my own room."

"A few more minutes," he said. "This is the last time you'll be in my bed after all."

Jonna nodded and kept her eyes averted. She felt very much like crying. "Why is she so important to you?" she whispered.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I built her," Jonna said.

"You've built other ships." He shrugged. "You'll build more."

Perhaps she would, Jonna thought. But never would she put so much of herself into the design of a ship. She had started with a vision and a cause, and
Huntress
was built to serve both. "Not like
Huntress," she
said. "Never again."

Decker's fingers trailed lightly between Jonna's breasts. He picked up the ivory pendant and examined it as if for the first time. "She's like you, you know," he said. "Graceful. Proud. A bit aggressive." He felt her stiffen at that appraisal, but he didn't apologize or elaborate. "Her lines are your lines. Elegant. Fluid. She has character, and I think you meant her to. I think she has your spirit and your bravery and more than a little of your arrogance."

Jonna could hardly draw a breath. "You can't know that."

"I can feel it," he said. "Walking her deck is like having you under me. She rises up to meet me the way you do."

A rush of heat swept up from Jonna's breasts to her face.

She closed her eyes. There was a small shake of her head, but her denial had no voice.

Decker let the pendant drop. His fingertips brushed her cheek. "She's as responsive as you are," he said quietly. "She's quick and agile, and she knows her master."

That opened Jonna's eyes.

He was perfectly unmoved by her glare, but he rather liked the dimple at the corner of her mouth. "Responsive," he repeated, kissing her. "Just like
Huntress."

Jonna ducked her head. He kissed the sensitive hollow at the back of her ear. "I can't give her to you," she said. She stared at the cold fireplace while his mouth settled on the curve of her neck. "If you believed what you were saying, you wouldn't ask for
Huntress."

Decker's teeth nipped her skin lightly. "She's a ship, Jonna. She's
like
you. She's
not
you. I can't own you." He paused. "Can I?"

"No." She slid out from under him and dragged a sheet with her. "I'm not property," she said sharply, coming to her feet. She wrapped the sheet around her. "Of course you can't own me."

Decker sat up. "Give me
Huntress,
" he said. "Prove that you know you can't own me either."

Jonna was quiet for a long time. She thought of why she had built
Huntress,
of the purpose it had yet to realize. She couldn't give it to Decker when it was intended for someone else. "I know I can't own you," she said. "I'm a Yankee trader, not a slaver. I told you my offer, and you refused it. And I can't pay what you ask.
Huntress
wasn't built for you." Jonna turned away to pick up Decker's dressing gown. She didn't see the grim smile that changed the shape of his mouth or brought an edge of frost to his eyes. She didn't hear him leave the bed or come up behind her. The first Jonna knew that Decker was at her back was when his hands came down on her shoulders and she was being turned around.