Wicked Proposition (37 page)

She was saddened at the realization she was
little different from the woman he satisfied his needs with. He
cared for her, but not in any lasting way. It was not how she saw
things between them at all.

Those fantasies had some fairy tale ending
attached she could no longer see now. Her wanton behavior had
spoiled everything. Her lips quivered to think of it.

Catherine knew he would expect her to be his
mistress and she looked away, distressed by the notion. Flashes of
her with the faceless man in her dreams had told her that much. She
wanted more suddenly and felt tears sting her gaze. He finished
dressing, the silence between them growing like a chasm.

“You pleased me very much, Catherine,” he
whispered and reached for her, but she moved away from him.

He frowned, what was wrong with the girl
now?

“Why are you acting this way? You wanted me as I
wanted you! We did nothing wrong here! I do not see why we must
deny ourselves any longer.”

“Of course you do not! You do not have to bear
the shame of it as I will, when everyone discovers what has
happened!” she jeered as she watched him frown darkly.

“Catherine, you are a woman grown and very
desirable and I am a man,” he said tautly and flung her a look of
annoyance. “I would think everyone would wonder why it took you so
long to come around.”

“Obviously I was of low moral character in my
former life to allow you to do this, it is obvious. I am little
more than a strumpet. I am a whore.”

“Shut up!” he bellowed and tossed down the sheet
and grabbed her, shaking her and looking down at her harshly. “You
are no whore, do you here? You are mine, damn you! I will not allow
you to turn this into something wrong! We belong together, can you
not tell? Shall I show you again? I have thought of nothing but
you! You are mine, for always. Do you understand now?”

Catherine stumbled when he released her and she
stared up at him in shock, her hand covering her mouth at his
words. He scowled at her as he grabbed her arm and ushered her
toward the path.

“You will not come here alone again, do you
here?” he said harshly and pushed her ahead of him, realizing he
had almost exposed his feelings to her. “It is not safe out here
alone, Catherine.”

“I will do as I please!” she said haughtily and
walked away from him, her green eyes narrowing at his imperious
demands. “You do not own me now, Nicholas.”

Nicholas caught up with her and grabbed her. He
laughed as he tossed her over his massive shoulder, chuckling as
she shrieked in rage. He spanked her buttock and then stroked it
soothingly, remembering his treatment of her earlier and decided
she had learned her lesson.

“You will obey me, wench, there are lawless men
who run unchecked on this island.”

“I don’t see any lawless men here but you!” she
flung as she dangled upside down against his back, her rear
smarting from his smack on her bottom. “Put me down! I can
walk.”

Nicholas laughed as he let her slide down his
body until she came to stand on her feet. He watched her flush
furiously as every inch of their bodies touched. Her pulse
quickened and she was angry at her body’s response to him. He had
but to touch her, and a longing formed in her belly. Even now, as
she was angry at him she wanted him inside her again. Her eyes grew
smoky.

“Are you sure I do not own you?” he taunted
softly as he looked down at her.

“I am quite sure. This changes nothing!” she
snapped and moved away from him. She walked up the path hurriedly,
cursing him under her breath until she got to the garden gate.

He caught up to her and grabbed her shoulder
before she could enter the gardens.

“We must talk about what has happened today,” he
said softly as he looked down at her. “I will not allow you to push
me away anymore. You will come to my bed tonight, wench. You are
mine, Catherine. Do not make me come after you.”

“What will Mrs. Bingham say?” she whispered
furiously and snatched her shoulder free. “The people here all
believe me to be your niece! You are not acting like an uncle at
all, Nicholas!”

“I am not feeling like an uncle at all,
Catherine,” he whispered back teasingly and chuckled lecherously,
pinching her bottom and his blue eyes twinkled in merriment. “I’m
feeling like a lusty, uncouth sailor!”

“You are truly despicable, do you know that?”
she whispered angrily. “How can I face anyone now? They will all
know what we were doing!”

“I don’t bloody care!” he snapped and leaned
forward meaningfully. “You are mine and I shall shout it to the
rooftops!” He cleared his throat to launch into his threat and she
clapped a hand over his mouth. She giggled and her green eyes
begged for mercy.

“Please, just stop it!” she said and her lips
twitched as she felt her anger at him melt. He looked down at her
so charmingly she melted beneath his gaze. Catherine knew she would
go to him that night, and every night thereafter. She shivered in
anticipation as she moved away from the gate.

She was whispering over her shoulder. “I should
go in first. You will do me the favor of giving it several minutes
before you come in after me. That should deflect any outward
suspicion.”

“I think not!” he growled in annoyance. She
shrieked as he ran to her. He lifted her into his arms, carrying
her up to the house with eyes glowing. “You will learn that I do
not hide anything, love.”

Catherine was stunned as he carried her into the
house, past the servants, and a grinning Mrs. Bingham and Tulley.
He ran up the winding staircase and into his room. He kicked the
door shut and put her down gently.

Nicholas placed his hands upon his hips and
grinned down at her maddeningly. “Cat’s out of the bag now,
love.”

“It’s the middle of the day! We must talk now!
Nicholas, this isn’t indecent!” she argued as she backed away from
him, seeing his obvious intent.

He grinned devilishly. “I plan on talking to
you, love.”

His hands busily yanked at his clothing as he
stalked her. She giggled despite herself and held her hands up too
ward him off. She squealed as he barreled into her, grabbing her
about the waist, and sending them both flying backward, onto the
bed.

She laughed uproariously despite the naughtiness
of what they were doing. He rolled her under him. She gasped
finally as she lay trapped under his naked body. He smiled
devilishly as he pulled up her skirts.

“I think we should express ourselves another way
for now, don’t you?” he whispered and his head disappeared under
the folds of her skirts. “Ah, yes I hear you now, my sweet.”

She closed her eyes tightly as she felt his hot
breath on her naked thighs. She moaned softly, her hands sliding
through his wet locks.

“Talk to me, my darling!” he whispered as his
tongue flicked the stiffening pink nub he found there.

She moaned and arched into his mouth and tongue.
Her head thrashed upon the pillows as he caressed her with slow,
maddening precision.

“I didn’t hear what you said, my sweet,” he
whispered as he toyed and pulled at her moist, enflamed flesh with
his lips.

She uttered a soft cry and he chuckled low,
wickedly against her thigh. His mouth laved at her with voracious
zeal, making her legs shake. He spread her velvet folds open and
stroked her with his finger now.

“You aren’t very talkative, love,” he continued
as his tongue stabbed the pink, quivering nub insistently. He felt
her legs sliding around his neck, urging him closer.

“Tell me what you want to say, sweetheart,” he
encouraged as his finger stroked her to madness as his lips found
her once more.

She could take no more. Her lips parted and such
profanity he had never heard from a lady let loose from her lips.
He grinned, thinking she spent far too much time around his
men.

When he rose above her, she was ripping at her
clothing. When he moved above her, she was ready and pulled him too
her urgently.

He buried himself inside her and she clung to
him, arching hungrily to meet each thrust of his body, feeling
bereft when he withdrew. He stared down at her with such a heated
look of desire she sucked in her breath.

“Talk to me, my dear,” he said raggedly as he
pumped tenderly inside her, demanding she answer him. “Tell me what
you want!”

“Oh, Nicholas, please don’t stop! It feels so
good! Don’t stop, my love, don’t stop, that’s it, harder, my
darling! Oh. Oh. Oh, yes!” She sobbed in delight. Her nails raking
his shoulders as he began to whisper to her of all the things he
wanted to do to her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and
gripped him tightly as she shook around him. He growled low as he
cupped her derriere and plunged savagely inside her once more.

“Ah yes, my sweet, that’s it. Tell me more!” he
whispered softly above her.

“Yes, my love. That is it, harder please!” she
gasped and reached another crisis and started swearing again
loudly.

He raised his head at her use of such vivid
profanity once more. He chuckled despite himself as he began to
press her down fiercely into the coverlet.

“My, such foul language you have acquired, my
love. You really must be punished for it,” he said teasingly as he
plundered her with such an intensity the bed began to squeak in
protest. He brought her to another wave of climax. She gripped his
shoulders, biting into his flesh as she shuddered violently,
groaning aloud and squirming to get closer to him.

“Love me, Nicholas,” she gasped as her body
opened to his like a flower, and her dazed emerald gaze met his
pleadingly. “Love me.”

“I do, my love, for always,” he vowed huskily as
he stiffened and went taut against her, shaking as he exploded
inside of her finally. Their mutual sighs mingled against their
lips. They lay entwined quietly, hearts beating against hearts,
hands touching, mouths meeting tenderly.

Tears filled Catherine’s eyes as he stared at
her with wonder in his gaze. He touched her face softly, caressing
every curve, the look in his eyes so tender she was unable to
breathe for a moment.

He felt at his side for his breeches and she
worried he would leave her. Her legs instinctively tightened around
his thigh and imprisoned it there. He smiled as his hand fished
around for what he sought on the side of the bed.

He said nothing as he presented her with the
small, black velvet box. He flipped it open, his blue eyes meeting
hers solemnly. She touched the gleaming green stone with wonder,
her shock evident in her exquisite features. She met his gaze in
confusion as he withdrew the ring and slid it upon her third
finger.

It fit perfectly. He sucked at the tip of her
finger and met her gaze adoringly.

“Catherine, will you marry me?” he asked softly.
He buried his face into her wet hair, twining the moist silken
waves in his fingers and drew her tightly against him. He tipped
her head back to look down at her. “I have loved you from the
moment I first saw you and I will forever.”

“Yes!” she cried and flung her arms around his
neck, tears brightening her eyes. “Yes, I will marry you!” she said
breathlessly as she met his lips passionately.

He cuddled her close to him, his heart thudding
at the enormity of what they had shared.

“I love you, Catherine. I have waited a very
long time for you to come back to me,” he said softly, making her
breathless from the look in his eyes.

Catherine came into his arms again, her eyes
shining with love and tears, mingling with kisses as she drew him
down to her again. They fell asleep in one another’s arms, the
sunset showing the contentment on their faces. Nicholas was curled
protectively around her, his face buried in her neck.

###

Mrs. Bingham sighed and Tulley raised an eyebrow
and scowled darkly. He reached into his pocket and tossed her a
purse filled with coins. She chuckled and snatched it up, putting
it in her pocket of her skirt.

“I won! Did I not tell you he would not make it
very long before he declared himself? I won! You men think you are
so smart!” Mrs. Bingham declared. She smiled in a pleased way as
they sat on the veranda and watched the sun go down with hands
entwined. “I think we should start planning the wedding now,
Tulley. What do you think of a roasted boar for the wedding
feast?”

“The Captain is not a man to be led by the nose,
woman. Ye better wait until he asks the girl first!”

“He showed me the ring before he went after
her,” Martha said gloatingly and watched his face fall. “Is love
not divine, Tulley?”

“Aye, it surely is,” he said glumly, still sore
for losing their wager. He squeezed her hand as she chattered on
about wedding gowns, cakes, and flowers.

“Speaking of all of that, when are you going to
quit sneaking around in the dark and let me make you an honest
woman yourself?” Tulley inquired, watching her expression out the
corner of his eye.

Mrs. Bingham paused in her chattering and was
speechless for all of about sixty seconds. She jumped into his lap
and their laughter echoed over the beach.

###

Six months later on a bluff overlooking their
home, Captain Nicholas Van Ryker exchanged vows with Catherine.
Love was so obvious in their gazes, Mrs. Bingham wept loudly during
the ceremony. She earned glares from all the crew of The Orion, and
Nicholas’s five brothers and their wives, who sat in the front pews
to witness the nuptials.

Catherine’s dress was of ivory satin, designed
by a tiny seamstress in St. Bart’s who had hurried to have the
creation finished in time for the wedding. The crystals sewn into
the bodice and train glimmered in the sunlight. She wore a simple
veil and clutched a bouquet of cream-colored orchids mixed with
island flowers.