Northern Star (34 page)

Against her cheek she felt a sharp intake of breath as his warm hand slid off her shoulder and onto her breast. Her gown gave willingly to his touch. He held the soft mound possessively as his lips tasted her flesh. She moved instinctively beneath him as his thumb slowly circled the peak of her breast. Running her fingers into his wet hair, she was lost in the wonder of pleasure. With each movement he taught her of a new world, and she responded as a willing student.

He moved slightly to one side, allowing more freedom as he gently pulled her gown to her waist. His kiss parted
her lips and he tasted the full wonder of her as his fingers roamed freely.

She arched slightly as his hand caressed her, sending fire to every nerve ending. His fingers moved masterfully from her thigh to her shoulder in unrestrained bliss. She could hear his low moans as he took possession of a dream. With each movement his need to explore grew greater.

From an eternity away, both heard Hunter’s name being shouted. Agonizing, he pulled free of her lips and let his head fall on the pillow beside her. He kissed her breast gently, then lifted smoky gray eyes to stare deeply into her own. “Stay here,” he whispered. “I have to go or this ship will tear apart.” His voice was thick with passion. “It tears me apart to leave you.”

He lifted himself off the bed. He was not making love to this lady but consuming a basic element necessary for life. He realized a simple fact as he stared down at her flushed beauty. Holding her wasn’t a luxury he wanted but a vital necessity. He’d play no silly games of love with her. She was a part of him, a staple of his life. He didn’t just need her to be happy; he must be with her to be alive. From the way she moved within his arms, she must feel the same.

Hunter stepped to the door. “Get those wet clothes off. I’ll be back later.”

In an instant he was gone, and Perry grew cold in his absence. She lay shivering in the damp bed for some time, marveling at the power he had over her. Slowly she crawled out of bed and removed her clothes. She rubbed a towel briskly across her bare skin until her body was warm and glowing. Because she had no other nightgown, Perry put on her camisole and petticoat. After spreading her gown and cape out to dry, she rummaged through the drawers for dry bedding. She paid little attention to the constant rocking of the ship, for the turmoil inside her seemed as great. Moving slowly around the bunk, she put
dry sheets and blankets on. Her heart seemed to be fighting her in any effort to think clearly.

Perry blew out the light, locked the door, and crawled into the newly made bed. Every cell in her body wanted to wait for Hunter to return, yet her mind needed time to think. Slowly a great sadness covered her in the darkness. He had made no mention of love in his advances toward her. In fact, his words had been harsh and demanding. He’d yelled at her as if she were a weak-minded child. Perry’s anger grew at Hunter and at herself. She was no street woman to be bedded at will. He’d given his word he would behave as a gentleman, yet his first night he’d lain in her bed, handled her as he’d promised he wouldn’t. She knew what would have happened if Hunter hadn’t been called away. She slammed her small fist into her pillow, knowing she’d wanted him with a passion equal to his need for her. “But I’m a lady,” she kept repeating in her mind, “and the door will stay locked until I gain control of my own feelings.”

Perry tried to sleep, but the memory of Hunter’s touch haunted her.

Hunter worked hour after hour with his men to keep the ship afloat. The storm gradually wore itself out and the ocean settled into a fitful sleep. As he relaxed at the wheel, the first ribbons of light whispered dawn on the horizon. The men slowly crawled off in exhaustion, leaving Hunter and Cap alone on deck.

“The storm seems to have blown us in the right direction,” the captain said between puffs of his pipe. “We weathered her without much damage.”

Hunter was impatient to return to Perry, now that the storm didn’t demand his full attention. As he watched the old seaman he knew the storm had taken its toll on the man. Cap would have retired years ago, but he couldn’t leave the sea he loved. He’d contributed his share during the storm, but now his energy was spent.

“Why don’t you go get a few hours sleep, Cap,” Hunter ordered. “I’ll sail her for a while.”

The captain moved away and Hunter smiled to himself. He’d give Perry a few hours more sleep before awakening her. All night, even in the midst of fighting the storm, she’d never been far from his thoughts. He could almost feel her body now. He remembered her soft full breast in his hand and the way she’d grabbed his head, forcing his kiss down to her. He’d never wanted anyone the way he
wanted her. Women had always been an extra in his life. After his mother died and he’d seen what love had done to his father, he made up his mind never to be bothered by such feelings.

He kept telling himself he was infatuated with Perry. She was so small, like a fragile china doll. Yet the fire within her surprised him. He’d have to handle her with care, but handle her he would. What did Abram’s and Molly’s warnings matter once she was in his arms? She responded with zeal to his every move, with a fire equal to his own. They were both two starving peasants at a banquet. Today they would have their fill of one another.

The two hours passed slowly as Hunter thought of the lady who waited below. He almost bolted and ran from the wheel when Cap appeared to relieve him, not even noticing the captain’s smile as he dropped below deck.

A moment later Hunter turned the door handle to Perry’s room. He’d hoped to find her still asleep so he could study her beauty in the morning light. To his surprise her bed was neatly made and she was nowhere in sight. He stepped across the hall, thinking she must have spent the night in his bed. But again, to his disappointment, there was no one in the cabin.

Hunter moved rapidly down the small corridor to the galley and dining area, impatience showing in his stride. He stepped into the small dining room and in frustration snapped, “Perry!”

“Yes?” Her musical voice drifted from the galley as she stepped to the door. Her blue dress was almost completely covered with a large cook’s apron. Her hair was pulled neatly to the back of her neck by a long blue ribbon. She held both flour-covered hands palms up in the air as she looked at him.

“Hunter,” she answered in a low voice, “sit down and I’ll finish cooking your breakfast. It seems the cook needs sleep, so I volunteered to make breakfast for anyone awake.”

Hunter sat down at the end of the long table. Food was not foremost in his mind, but he was polite. Through the open galley door he watched her as she moved skillfully around the kitchen. He could smell the hot biscuits and ham she was cooking. Five minutes passed before she set a plate of food in front of him. The appetizing aroma surrounded him, and Hunter suddenly realized how hungry he was after a hard night’s work.

When she handed him a cup of coffee, their fingers touched and he smiled up at her. Without responding, she moved to the other end of the table and sat silently, drinking her own coffee. She’d spent most of the night thinking of what she would say, but now, as she watched his gray eyes caressing her, she was speechless. His hair was windblown and half covered his forehead. He looked younger, and his smile came quickly and easily as he glanced up at her between bites.

She felt herself tearing apart at the seams. Half of her demanded she stand by her principles. She had little left but her standards, and if she cast them away, her pride in herself would be tarnished. Yet watching him, she so wanted to close the distance between them. Even in the morning light she could still feel his warm hands moving slowly over her. But she must have his love, not just his loving. For without love their physical union would be cheapened.

Hunter pushed his empty plate aside and lifted his coffee mug. “That was a very fine breakfast.” He smiled, willing to play her game for a time. After all, they had all day.

“Thank you,” Perry whispered as she stood and removed her apron. She folded it neatly and began her planned speech. “About last night…”

If Hunter had known more about women, he might have hesitated instead of rushing in. “Perry, come here,” he demanded in a low voice seasoned with passion. “Come closer.” He pushed away from the table and opened his
arms, indicating she should sit on his lap. He’d waited long enough for her to be near him. Whatever she had to say could be said as he held her close.

Anger fired within her. He was ordering her around as if she were a child. He wasn’t asking but telling. Every fiber within her rebelled. Why was it men always treated women as children, to be coaxed and pampered?

Perry stood her ground. “About last night…” she tried again as he folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “I realize there were many factors contributing to what happened. The storm, my fright, your anger.” She hesitated. She must finish what she had to say without looking into his eyes. “I want you to know I don’t hold you entirely responsible. However, today is another day, and we can start again as if last night never happened.”

The front two legs of Hunter’s chair fell to the floor with a thud as he stood. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Perry?” He moved toward her. “Are you saying you wish to forget what we both felt last night?” If he could but touch her, he’d make her little speech worthless.

Stepping around the table, Perry widened the distance between them. “Last night never happened, Hunter. I hold you to your word as a gentleman.” She lifted her chin in pride and stubbornness.

“Damn the promise!” he shouted as he shoved a chair out of his path. “I want you.” Passion filled his voice. “And you want me!”

Perry’s eyes widened at his frankness, and she could find no way to deny his statement. Yet anger flared once again. He spoke not of love but of need. “You said you’d not touch me until I came to you. And need or no need, Hunter Kirkland, I’ll not come to you.” Her hands balled into fists at her side as she backed away, keeping the table between them.

He moved closer. “Perry, you couldn’t have been so warm in my arms a few hours ago and now be made of stone. I—”

Shaking her head, she cried, “I’ll not listen to you!”

“If I can touch you,” Hunter answered, “you’ll hear me.”

Perry matched his every advance with retreating steps. They moved as fixtures on a merry-go-round with the table always between them.

“You’ll understand my promise was folly when…” He couldn’t believe she was shattering his dream.

“Need I carry my pistol to keep you away? For I assure you, I’ll not hesitate.” Anger flashed in her eyes. “Are you so like your cousin that I must fight or bend to your will?”

Straightening, he backed away. Perry’s comparison of him to Wade stung like a slap. He pushed his eyebrows together and studied her. “I’m not like Wade.” His voice was cold and firm. “You wound me, madam, even to make the comparison. You shall have your wish. Last night never happened, and I’ll make no advance toward you.” He stared at her with icy, pain-filled eyes. “You’ve no need to carry a weapon. Your demands injure me far more than a bullet.”

Hunter opened the door. “If you will excuse me, I must get a few hours sleep. I find my dreams much less painful than present company. Good day.”

With a slam of the door he was gone, and Perry was alone. She’d won, yet where was the victory? She’d talked him into making no more advances toward her. She’d erased his smiling, confident manner to watch a cold, controlled mask return. Perry slammed her fist on the table in anger. “Why do I have to love such a man?” she whispered. “Why couldn’t he just once speak of love and not of need?” She had to be more than just a woman he bedded. She’d settle for nothing less than being the one he loved.

Perry wiped tears from her flushed cheeks. Let him sleep, she would busy herself in the small kitchen. She might know little about sailing, but she did know how to
cook. Attacking her job with an energy born of frustration, she stayed in the galley all morning. She was relieved when the cook finally awoke to serve a late lunch that she’d prepared for the crew. As the men gathered around the table she wandered above deck for some fresh air. The morning’s work had dulled her anger.

A cool breeze greeted her as she opened the hatch. She welcomed the fresh air to clear her thoughts. Casting her gaze around, she met a sky that mirrored her mood. The clouds hung low as rumors of rain whispered in the wind. She climbed up to the open deck where the captain stood idly smoking his pipe. He smiled a greeting before continuing his study of the sky.

“Are we in for more storms?” Perry asked in an effort to make conversation.

“Appears we might be. But I’m figuring by the way those clouds are moving over yonder”—he pointed with his pipe—“that we are just skirtin’ the storm. If we’re lucky, a little rain is all we’ll have to worry about.”

The captain reminded Perry of a piece of driftwood. He was weathered and wrinkled beyond his age, yet there was a solidness about him. He stood watching her with wise old eyes, as though he were reading her as he did the weather.

Perry blushed slightly under his stare but welcomed his company. “Do you and Hunter sail often?” she asked.

“He has another ship—a fine, big lady. We’ve sailed on her many times but not lately.” The old seaman wasn’t accustomed to idle conversation. He’d spent a lifetime at sea and felt ill at ease around womenfolk.

She liked the old man and felt a need to be honest. “I’m not Hunter’s cousin,” she stated, wondering what he would think of her.

“I know,” he commented without hesitation.

“Did Hunter tell you?” Perry asked, wondering.

“Didn’t have to.” The captain smiled. “No man looks at his relative like he looks at you.” Perry’s cheeks burned
as he continued. “This is a small ship, and when voices are raised, everyone on board hears.”

Perry lowered her head to stare at the sea. “Thank you for the warning, Captain,” she whispered.

“What warning?” Hunter’s voice sounded from behind her.

Perry turned in surprise as he stepped onto the small deck to join them. Though he was smiling, there was a tiredness in his eyes. She wondered if he’d slept at all this morning. He had changed into a clean white shirt and dark brown slacks, but he hadn’t bothered to shave. His whiskers formed a light brown covering over his strong jaw.