playing her part to the hilt.
“Good. Because I don’t intend to allow you to escape me any longer. Tonight I’m going to take what is legally mine.”
Cathy felt her temper spark at this deliberate crudeness, but she managed to hang on to her submissive facade.
“We’re married, Harold. How could I possibly escape you? It’s just—I’ve felt so ill.” Deliberately Cathy let her voice die away.
Harold nodded with satisfaction.
“In a way, I’m glad you’ve decided to be sensible, although taming you would not have been without its rewards. But I’m sure you gained plenty of experience as the pirate’s paramour, and I expect you to make good use of it tonight. If my bride is not the blushing virgin that I deserve, then she can at least pleasure me. So come here, Cathy, and make a start.”
Cathy blanched as Harold pushed his chair back from the table and stood up, beckoning to her. She had not counted on this happening so fast. Her mind raced as she stood up. For the moment she had to obey him. To fight him now would only result in rape.No, guile was what she needed to win this battle, and guile was what she would use. . . .
Harold’s touch was every bit as dreadful as she had known it would be. His arms clamped around her body, jerking her roughly against his protruding belly, his mouth attaching itself to hers like a leech. It was loose and wet as it moved against her lips; his tongue forced its way between her teeth, thrusting down her throat so that she wanted to gag. But she stood her ground, submitting as docilely as she could to his grotesque embrace, not flinching even when his hand thrust roughly inside the neckline of her wrapper to close hurtfully on one soft breast.
Cathy’s fingers itched to slap him as he kneaded her bare breast with rough familiarity, making obscene grunting noises in his throat like a huge rooting pig. With an immense effort of will she managed to restrain herself. Jon’s dark face swam momentarily across the screen of her closed lids; the thought of his reaction if he could see her now made her banish it hurriedly. If her plan was to succeed, she must concentrate solely upon saving herself.
When Harold began to rip at the bodice of her wrapper, Cathy pushed him away with what gentleness she could muster. He stumbled back a pace. She saw with inward contempt that his face was mottled with passion and his breathing was hard and irregular. For the first time she began to get an inkling of the effect she had on him. His physical reaction betrayed his desire, and she began to perceive that it was something that might later be turned to her advantage. He was not the only one to hold aces in their little game.
“Harold, please, let’s do this properly,” she whispered, lowering her eyes as if shy. “Why don’t you go for a walk on deck while I bathe and get into bed? When you get back, I’ll be waiting for you. . . .” her voice trailed off seductively. Harold gulped, his pale blue eyes bulging as he stared at her.
“Idon’t want to wait,” he said thickly, nearly making her jump out of her skin as he reached for her. Smiling slightly, shaking her head, she still managed to look seductive while placing both hands on his pouter pigeon chest and holding him off.
“It will be better later, don’t you see?” she beguiled him with her eyes. “I’ve been ill and I need a bath. I have the most delicious perfumed bath salts . . . and then we’ll share a bottle of wine. . . .”
“All right,” Harold agreed in a hoarse voice, much to Cathy’s relief. She smiled at him, inwardly wishing that she had a sword so that she could run him through. God, how she despised him! Just the thought of him making love to her—if it could be called that—was enough to make her stomach churn, in truth!
He pressed a moist kiss on her mouth, and then, with one last, languishing look, left her. Cathy nearly crowed with triumph. It was going to work . . . it was going to work! She
“Good. Because I don’t intend to allow you to escape me any longer. Tonight I’m going to take what is legally mine.”
Cathy felt her temper spark at this deliberate crudeness, but she managed to hang on to her submissive facade.
“We’re married, Harold. How could I possibly escape you? It’s just—I’ve felt so ill.” Deliberately Cathy let her voice die away.
Harold nodded with satisfaction.
“In a way, I’m glad you’ve decided to be sensible, although taming you would not have been without its rewards. But I’m sure you gained plenty of experience as the pirate’s paramour, and I expect you to make good use of it tonight. If my bride is not the blushing virgin that I deserve, then she can at least pleasure me. So come here, Cathy, and make a start.”
Cathy blanched as Harold pushed his chair back from the table and stood up, beckoning to her. She had not counted on this happening so fast. Her mind raced as she stood up. For the moment she had to obey him. To fight him now would only result in rape.No, guile was what she needed to win this battle, and guile was what she would use. . . .
Harold’s touch was every bit as dreadful as she had known it would be. His arms clamped around her body, jerking her roughly against his protruding belly, his mouth attaching itself to hers like a leech. It was loose and wet as it moved against her lips; his tongue forced its way between her teeth, thrusting down her throat so that she wanted to gag. But she stood her ground, submitting as docilely as she could to his grotesque embrace, not flinching even when his hand thrust roughly inside the neckline of her wrapper to close hurtfully on one soft breast.
Cathy’s fingers itched to slap him as he kneaded her bare breast with rough familiarity, making obscene grunting noises in his throat like a huge rooting pig. With an immense effort of will she managed to restrain herself. Jon’s dark face swam momentarily across the screen of her closed lids; the thought of his reaction if he could see her now made her banish it hurriedly. If her plan was to succeed, she must concentrate solely upon saving herself.
When Harold began to rip at the bodice of her wrapper, Cathy pushed him away with what gentleness she could muster. He stumbled back a pace. She saw with inward contempt that his face was mottled with passion and his breathing was hard and irregular. For the first time she began to get an inkling of the effect she had on him. His physical reaction betrayed his desire, and she began to perceive that it was something that might later be turned to her advantage. He was not the only one to hold aces in their little game.
“Harold, please, let’s do this properly,” she whispered, lowering her eyes as if shy. “Why don’t you go for a walk on deck while I bathe and get into bed? When you get back, I’ll be waiting for you. . . .” her voice trailed off seductively. Harold gulped, his pale blue eyes bulging as he stared at her.
“Idon’t want to wait,” he said thickly, nearly making her jump out of her skin as he reached for her. Smiling slightly, shaking her head, she still managed to look seductive while placing both hands on his pouter pigeon chest and holding him off.
“It will be better later, don’t you see?” she beguiled him with her eyes. “I’ve been ill and I need a bath. I have the most delicious perfumed bath salts . . . and then we’ll share a bottle of wine. . . .”
“All right,” Harold agreed in a hoarse voice, much to Cathy’s relief. She smiled at him, inwardly wishing that she had a sword so that she could run him through. God, how she despised him! Just the thought of him making love to her—if it could be called that—was enough to make her stomach churn, in truth!
He pressed a moist kiss on her mouth, and then, with one last, languishing look, left her. Cathy nearly crowed with triumph. It was going to work . . . it was going to work! She
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