"And I know you please him. When you aren't looking, he stares at you as if he wants to devour you."
Cassie's glance shifted back to the porpoises. "Isn't that what we wanted? To make him want to keep me close once we reach England?"
"Yes, that's what we wanted." The note of uneasiness was still in Lani's voice. "But I still think it would have been better if I'd been the one to couple with him. I don't like-"
"What?"
"I should have known you'd dive into carnal pleasure the way you do everything else. You're too intense." She made a face. "It's like the porpoises-I'm afraid you may drown."
Cassie reached out and covered Lani's hand on the rail. "I won't drown."
"Not while I'm here to rescue you." Lani sighed. "But I'm afraid it's too late for me to take your place. At this point I doubt if he'd accept Venus as your replacement in his bed." She smiled with an effort. "I feel in the mood to play a game of cards. Shall we?"
Cassie shook her head. "I want to watch the porpoises for a while and then go down and check on Kapu."
Lani nodded. "I thought as much. I suppose I'll have to find Bradford to substitute." She turned and strolled away. "He's usually willing to accommodate me if he's not too deep in his cups."
Cassie turned back to the porpoises. Bradford was not only willing but eager to do anything Lani wished, she had noted. He was almost painfully anxious to please and accepted Lani's sharp jabs and cool words with equanimity. Yet Cassie had an idea Lani enjoyed Bradford's wry wit. During the past weeks the two had established a guarded relationship that was almost as unusual as the one Cassie and Jared shared-No, what was she thinking? There was no comparison. Blazing heat, instead of coolness. Civilized banter, instead of tense, explosive ejaculations.
Someone was watching her.
She glanced over her shoulder. Jared was standing on the bridge a few yards away. She inhaled sharply as she saw his expression. Though fully dressed and impeccably groomed, this was the sinuous, naked savage who waited for her in his cabin, not the elegant daylight stranger. Lord of the Underworld, not the Duke of Morland.
When you're not watching, he stares at you as if he wants to devour you.
She could feel her body ripen, ready, as she gazed helplessly up at him. It was not supposed to be like this. She had thought she could keep the lines drawn, but they were merging, melting. Sunlight and darkness… one.
Something flared in his face, and he took a half step toward her.
No! Panic seared through her. The lines must be forced apart and kept apart.
She turned her back on him and stared blindly out at the porpoises.
She heard his low exclamation. She tensed, expecting him to come to her in spite of the rejection.
He did not.
A few minutes later she glanced over her shoulder.
He was gone.
But it was not over. Her rejection had been too blatant, and she would pay for it later.
But not now. Now the barriers were still in place. He had not been allowed to come out of that secret darkness to dominate the daylight.
Cassie stopped in the doorway in surprise. Not even the dim glow of a candle lit the cabin.
"Come in," Jared said.
"I can't see you," she said as she took a hesitant step toward him.
"I know, but I can see you. Shut the door."
Now that her eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness, she could discern him on the bunk across the cabin-a paler silhouette against the deeper shadows. She shut the door, and an immediate uneasiness rippled through her. Now she could see nothing at all. "Light the candle," she said.
"Afterward." She could hear the rustle of movement across the cabin. "I don't want you to see my face at the moment."
"Why not?"
He was there before her, untying her sarong. He threw it aside. "It might frighten you."
She took an involuntary step back but collided with the door. Smooth, cool wood pressed against her naked back and buttocks. The darkness sharpened every sense: the sound of his breathing, the scent of him, the warmth of his body only inches from her own. He was looming over her, and she was suddenly acutely aware of the power of his body and the fragility of her own. "I've never been afraid of you."
"You've proved that by coming here tonight. I was wondering if you would."
She had not even considered not coming to him. She had been drawn as inevitably, blindly, as if answering a siren call. It was night… and he was waiting. "Tonight is no different from any other."
He took her hand and pulled her toward the bed. "Wrong. You're an intelligent woman, and you realize that one response requires another."
"I suppose you're saying you're angry with me."
He pushed her down on the bed. "Extremely."
"There's no reason."
"I can be an unreasonable man. Turn over."
"What?"
"You appear confused. You were eager to turn your back on me this afternoon. Why not now?"
"Because I don't know why-" She stopped and rolled over on her stomach. "Satisfied?"
"No, but I will be." He sat down beside her and began to stroke her. He started at her shoulders and moved slowly down her spine. Her stomach muscles clenched; his callused palm was a sensual abrasion against the softness of her own flesh. The darkness made him a stranger, and yet his touch had the same familiar mesmerism. He asked in a low voice, "Why did you turn your back on me?"
Her heart was beating so hard and fast she could barely breathe. "You know why."
"Perhaps. You think I broke those damnable rules you set." His hand moved down to her buttocks, stroking, squeezing. "But don't ever do it again. Do you understand?"
She didn't answer.
He muttered a curse and his hands were suddenly beneath her, lifting her to her hands and knees.
"What are you doing?" she asked, startled.
"You seem to have taken a dislike to facing me." He moved behind her on the bed. "I thought you'd prefer accepting me this way."
He held her hips steady as he positioned himself. Then carefully, slowly, he slid into her.
She gasped as the tightness resisted and then gave way. His hands were on her buttocks again, squeezing, petting. The position was incredible; her breasts hung heavy, ripe, and she was so full of him, she couldn't move.
He bent over her, pushing, letting her feel all of him. "Do you know how I felt when you turned your back on me?" he whispered. "It was as if you'd slapped me and then pushed me away."
It was what she had meant to do, she thought in despair. To push him back where he belonged.
"I wanted to come down from the bridge and bend you over the rail." He started to move, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. "I wanted to lift up the skirt of your gown and come into you like this… and this… and this…"
Her mouth was open as she tried to breathe. Her arms were so weak they could barely hold her as waves of pleasure struck her with every touch, every stroke.
Wildness. Fever. Possession without surcease and without mercy. She didn't want mercy. She wanted him.
But, suddenly, she didn't have him. He was gone. No, he was there in the darkness, plucking at her breasts, arousing her to fever pitch but not giving her the fullness she needed.
"Jared…" She started to turn over but he stopped her.
"No, stay where you are." He was in her again, moving, caressing her stomach, folding her around him. "I want it like this."
Arousal and withdrawal and then arousal again. Madness. It went on until she thought she could bear no more. When he finally allowed them both the explosion they craved, she was sobbing with frustration and need.
The climax was without parallel.
She collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, nerveless, and totally helpless. She could not have lifted a hand if she'd tried.