Surrender the Stars (14 page)

"That's the spirit," Andre said approvingly. "Concentrate on the happy prospects for our sojourn in London while you wait for sleep tonight." Hugging her close, he kissed Lindsay's curls.

She wrapped her arms around him and held fast, inhaling her father's familiar scent and enjoying the feeling that he would take care of everything.

"Sleep well," Andre murmured gently.

"You too, Papa. Give Mama a kiss for me."

"Now there's a favor I'll gladly grant!" Smiling, he kissed her brow once more, then took his leave.

Alone again, Lindsay paced across the slightly swaying deck of her cabin, wide awake. Finally, she decided to go above, pushing aside the realization that she would find Ryan Coleraine there.

Emerging through the hatch, Lindsay looked up to see a magnificent display of stars scattered over the night sky. The air was fresh, with only a trace of chill, and she let her shawl drop backward to reveal her half-bare upper arms and shoulders.

The decks were quiet; in the starlight, she could see a few sailors propped against masts and rigging, half dozing. The wind was with them, filling the sails. Glancing upward to the quarterdeck, Lindsay recognized the tall, hard-muscled silhouette of Ryan Coleraine. He was leaning against the rail, forearms braced, gazing out over the shimmering blue-black ocean. She told herself that there was no other place to go and went to join him.

Unmoving as Lindsay approached, Ryan continued to look ahead even after she had reached his side. Then the corners of his mouth turned upward slightly as he murmured, "To what do I owe this honor?"

"My restlessness," she replied, copying his pose at the rail. "What a dazzling night!"

"Next you'll say that the stars look like diamonds."

"They do!" Lindsay felt no desire to take offense at his sardonic tone. On the brink of arriving in England, she was strangely giddy. "I should apologize for suggesting that the loss of your beard would unman you," she said magnanimously. "If anything, you are handsomer—in a most masculine way—without it."

Surprised, Ryan turned his head and stared at her, his brows raised. "How reassuring! Now I'll be able to sleep. I've been fretting all day..."

"No doubt." Lindsay gave him a happy smile. "I seem to be in high spirits tonight. I don't think that you can annoy me."

"Perhaps I'd better not try, then."

"That would be pleasant."

Still leaning on the rail, they both looked back out at the sea and stars. Ryan indulged in a sidelong glance at Lindsay and saw that she was still smiling. He was struck by the delicate beauty of her profile, from the cloud of burnished curls to the sweep of her lashes to the fine lines of her profile. She truly was exquisite.

"Do you know the names of the stars?" Lindsay asked.

"Yes, of course. Didn't you learn them from your father?"

"As a child, I think, but I haven't been to sea for a very long time. I didn't want any part of that family pastime."

"Ah, yes, I remember. The black sheep. Or were you the white lamb and the rest of the Raveneaus black sheep?"

"A good question!" Lindsay laughed lightly. "But let's not rehash that tiresome subject. Won't you show me the stars? I can only identify the Big Dipper."

"Ursa Major, the Great Bear," he elaborated. "It's always there, you know, in this hemisphere. When I was a little boy in Ireland and my father showed me the stars, we called it the Plough." Ryan lifted a bronzed hand and outlined a different pattern through the dipper so that the handle slanted down to form a blade. "You see?"

Lindsay nodded, her eyes shifting from the stars to his deft, strong fingers.

"You know, the stars that one sees depend on the season, and even the month," he explained. "Cassiopeia is another constellation that never sets. It makes an
M
there to the north." He showed her how to draw a line from Mizar, the second star in the tail of the Great Bear, to find Cassiopeia. "Do you see the Little Dipper? That's the North Star at the end of its handle."

To Lindsay's surprise, she found that she was fascinated as Ryan went on to point out a the constellation of Cygnus, which made a cross, and finally he helped her find Bootes, which was nearly overhead. Its brightest star, Arcturus, was a marvelous light orange.

Lindsay murmured, "You love nature, don't you?"

He breathed deeply of the salty sea air and smiled. "Don't we all? Why would you make such an observation?"

"I looked at the volume of Wordsworth you left in my cabin. It was a celebration of nature."

After a moment, Ryan looked at her and smiled. "The outdoors is the touchstone for my life. The sky, the sea, the change of seasons... these and all the rest are more wondrous than material possessions, and they are constant. Wordsworth articulated it much better than I ever could, but my feeling is that I can turn to nature when troubles accumulate, and I'm reminded of the greater scheme of things. When I can put aside petty everyday concerns, the simple act of breathing gives me peace."

"I suppose that your philosophy must make it easier for you to adapt with good grace to this charade we are forced to perform."

He gazed down into her intent gray eyes and drew in his breath. "Perhaps, but don't misunderstand me, Lindsay. I'm still very much a man and, being human, am tied to the cares of our world."

"Yet you seem to be amused by the same things that vex me intolerably!"

"My threshold for anger is doubtless higher than yours, perhaps because I've lived longer. I have a temper, though, as you well know."

Looking up at his chiseled face, Lindsay was all too aware that her heart had begun to drum faster, her cheeks were hot, and a strange tingling sensation seemed to course through her veins. "Does it make you angry to have to pretend to be my brother?"

"It may... but I'm not pretending yet. Until we reach English soil tomorrow I am still Ryan Coleraine." His right hand touched the soft curve of her cheek, then traced Lindsay's bare neck. "I don't feel a bit like your brother, and though I'll act the part once we reach London, you'd be wise to remember that it's only a masquerade."

Lindsay felt intoxicated by the stars, Ryan's voice, and the warm proximity of his body. She yearned to touch him, and she did so, reaching out to brush her fingertips over the tiny black hairs on the back of his hand. The thought of London was both exhilarating and frightening, but for this instant Lindsay could escape. There was no future, just these moments out of time on a ship that bore no resemblance to her usual world.

When Ryan's arms encircled her waist, Lindsay melted against him, craving the sensations his kiss had evoked that wild morning in Pettipauge. How differently he is made! she thought as he drew her against the length of his body.

Just before she closed her eyes to await Ryan's kiss, a sudden blaze of silvery light arced across the night sky. Lindsay gasped in surprise and appreciation.

"Ryan! A shooting star!"

"Mmhmm." He was far more intent on the responsive female body in his arms. "Comets are never more beautiful than over the ocean, I think, when the sky and water seem to merge. An astronomer once wrote that comets dart through the night 'as the fishes in the sea.' I love that imagery."

He spoke softly and his breath was warm and intimate on Lindsay's brow, setting off a chain of feelings, not the least of which was an unsettling twinge that radiated downward from the pit of her stomach. Somehow, though, she summoned the power to speak. "When I was little, I was staying one night with my grandmother in New London. I saw a shooting star and thought it was the most glorious sight—like a miracle! And then Gramma told me that comets were formed by the smoke of sin, set afire by God's anger."

"What a charming tale to feed to a child, especially one with an imagination like yours," Coleraine remarked dryly, meanwhile running one hand lightly over her back.

The delicious sensation made her shiver with pleasure, but her voice was still troubled when she said, "I was fascinated and horrified all at once. For years after that, I would sit in my window at night and stare at the sky, waiting and wondering what sort of sin would make God angry enough to send down a comet. Once, I told my father a lie and then fell asleep in my window seat while keeping vigil to see if a shooting star would appear." Lindsay laughed shakily at the memory and rested her face against Ryan's fresh-smelling white shirt. Through the fine fabric, she could hear the slow beat of his heart.

"So you've waited a long time to earn that comet, hmm?" he teased Lindsay gently, tipping up her chin to look into her luminous eyes. "What's your sin? Touching
me?"'

"Oh, no, no! I don't believe that story anymore!" Flustered, she blushed even more furiously when Ryan touched her hot cheek with his fingertip and silently lifted an eyebrow. "I mean, it's silly, isn't it! Intelligent adults could never subscribe to such a theory!"

"Still, in a corner of your mind, you might be a little worried..." He pressed her closer, one hand sliding down over the curve of Lindsay's bottom. "Don't you think," Ryan murmured, his mouth grazing her temple, "that if comets were the smoke of sin that the night would be continually ablaze?"

Lindsay swallowed hard and managed to nod, nearly trembling with arousal.

"I prefer to believe," he went on quietly, barely an inch above her parted lips, "that if God chooses the moments when stars fall, He does so in a spirit of celebration. Perhaps He knows that you and I are enjoying a last night of freedom..."

"Yes," Lindsay breathed, yearning, aching for his kiss. "I'm sure you're right...."

"Are you?"

Coleraine's soft, enigmatic tone gave her pause, but his sculpted face and midnight-blue eyes were unreadable in the shadows. Slowly, their lips touched, and as reason fled, Lindsay closed her eyes and yielded to her unschooled feelings.

Sweet, he thought, luxuriating in the taste and texture of her sensual mouth. How many nights had he dreamed, unwillingly, of kissing Lindsay and feeling her melt against him? Now, as her arms found their way around his shoulders, he thought dimly that this would satisfy his cravings, enabling him to keep a proper distance in London.

The tantalizing play of his mouth only heightened Lindsay's desire. Now his lips were brushing fire over her eyelids, jawline, and throat, before returning to cling, gently, to her eager mouth. She was swallowing a moan when she felt his tongue touch her lower lip, then her teeth, until it grazed the tip of her own tongue. Unable to bear another moment of such torture, Lindsay pressed upward against Ryan's hard body and his mouth slanted over hers in response. Hot waves of sensation swirled down to her loins as they kissed and kissed, tasting and ravening, for long minutes.

Lindsay felt overcome with passion. Her breasts swelled as she pressed against the strong expanse of his chest. Meanwhile, her hips sought Ryan's, driven by an instinct she hadn't known she possessed. The place between her legs was moist and yearning. She wanted to lie down with him right there on the quarterdeck.

Ryan's deft fingers explored Lindsay's back, fit themselves around the curves of her waist, hips, and derriere; then, as his mouth abandoned hers to explore the slim column of her neck, one hand slid upward over Lindsay's ribs until it touched a breast.

"Oh, God," he whispered, feeling the puckered nipple through the thin muslin of her bodice. "I have lost my senses!"

She nearly panicked as she felt his body tense. "Ryan—"

"Lindsay, this is madness! We're on a ship with your parents—not to mention the men on the other decks!" Gripping her forearms, he held her away from him. "I never meant..." Ryan paused, looking from her stricken, beautiful face to the dark water. "It should have been just a kiss. A taste. Anything more would be not only wrong but insane!"

Suddenly Lindsay felt chilled; her shawl had fallen away to the deck behind her. Reason and pride returned in a sickening rush. "Of course. You're right!" She tried to disengage herself from the hands that still seemed to burn her flesh all too pleasurably. "You said it yourself this morning. We've been at sea too long and are both a bit mad. Why don't we just pretend that this... interlude never happened?"

Ryan stared down at her intently, wondering what she really felt. "Our dealings have ever been stormy in one way or another, have they not? Whether we can forget about tonight remains to be seen, but I do think that we can agree to keep it our secret."

"You have my word." Lindsay felt her composure return when he released her arms. Straightening her back, she put out her hand and saw Ryan's mouth curve ironically as he took it and they sealed their agreement.

Although she longed to look upward at the night sky, Lindsay realized that the last visible traces of the shooting star had disappeared long before, taking its secrets with it.

Part 2

This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,

This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,

This other Eden, demi-paradise,