The thunder of a fierce pounding echoed across the tiny cabin, awakening Perry. For a moment confusion clouded her mind as she focused on her unfamiliar surroundings. Slowly the cabin took form with a rhythmic rocking, telling her the ship must already be sailing.
Jumping from the bed, Perry pulled her cape on. She hadn't had space to pack a wrapper; however, the cape served her needs well. She closed her fingers around the small gun in her pocket and moved cautiously to the door. The fear that Wade had somehow found her suffocated all other thought.
Throwing the latch, she stepped back and lifted the gun in greeting.
An instant later the door flew wide open as two men burst into the room. Both froze in mid-stride as they saw the little lady standing before them with a derringer pointed at their heads.
Perry breathed a sigh of relief as she recognized Hunter and the ship's captain.
Hunter straightened as his eyes registered the beauty before him. She stood, draped in dark blue, her wonderful hair flowing to her waist. Her eyes were huge with fire and fear. For a moment he could think of nothing to say. There was nothing in the world that mattered but her standing before him.
The captain raised his hand as though his fingers might ward off a bullet. "I'm sorry, miss. I'm not meaning to do you harm. You can put the weapon down." For years he'd thought there was no more deadly animal than a woman with a gun.
Perry held the weapon steady. "Is this your usual way of awakening a guest who sails with you?" A smile touched the corner of her mouth.
"No, miss." The old captain shuffled in embarrassment. "We heard you were Hunter's cousin. We thought you were his Cousin Wade. The guard who saw you come aboard is asleep. He left only a message saying that Hunter's cousin boarded last night." The captain fumbled with his hands as though they had suddenly doubled in size and would no longer fit in his pockets.
"That'll be all, Cap," Hunter said. "Thanks for standing by me, but this is one cousin I can handle."
The captain turned toward the door. "I'll tell the cook there will be one more for breakfast." He vanished.
It took Hunter another moment to recover fully from the shock of Perry's presence. He casually folded his arms across his broad chest. From the smile on his face she never would have guessed how much sleep he'd lost because of her. Twice during the night he'd decided not to sail, but to stay close to her. But at dawn, duty prevailed. Though he was needed in North Carolina, he'd dreaded the few weeks away from Perry as a man dreads a jail term. Now she stood before him, even more beautiful than he'd remembered. Her hair, tousled from sleep, stirred his desire to hold her.
"Perry." He wondered once more how she had the power to make him tongue-tied. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I never expected to see you here. I'm glad you changed your mind and decided to sail with me."
"I didn't really change my mind. I was forced to leave, thanks to Wade," she answered sharply, seeing the hint of fire in his gray eyes. "I hope I can rely upon your word as a gentleman."
"I don't give my word lightly and I will not break it lightly. You may put your gun away." He purposefully stepped toward her as he spoke. "Have you seen Wade?" he questioned. "I was told he left town."
"You were misinformed." Perry's voice broke into soft sobs, tearing at Hunter's heart. He moved closer but dared not touch the angel before him."
In a low caring tone he whispered, "I've a shoulder to cry on, but you'll have to come to me."
She glanced up with wide, tear-filled eyes and saw only sympathy in his face. She closed the space between them as he lifted his arms in welcome.
Cradling her face into his chest, she let her tears flow unchecked. She cried for her lost home at Ravenwood, and Three Oaks, and now Molly. She felt afloat in a raging stream, with no direction to her life. She wished she'd returned with the sheriff to Molly's to help him catch Wade so she would know that this was over. Sick of being afraid, she allowed all her pain to flow out with her tears.
Hunter held her close, drinking in the fragrance of her hair as she pressed against him like a frightened child. Never in his life had a woman so captured his very soul. He longed to take all the hurt from her, yet all he could do was vow to add no more pain to her life. Lightly he stroked her hair, mumbling inaudible words of comfort.
Finally the tears ceased and her breathing grew regular. "Thank you," she whispered. "I've never cried like this before. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," he answered, almost drowning in a single tear that clung to her dark lashes. "I'm here whenever you need me. I'll see that no one ever hurts or frightens you again."
He clenched his teeth. Here he was swearing his allegiances to her like all the others. He didn't want to be her guardian. He wanted to be her lover, but her only touch was to push him away from her softly. He could see it in her eyes; she was not a child looking for protection. She was a woman with her own mind. He'd said the wrong thing again.
For an instant he resisted her leaving his arms. But he'd given his word and he wouldn't break it. Once he chose his course, Hunter stepped away quickly, trying to hide his disappointment. "I'll wait for you down the hall," he said.
With one swift movement Hunter vanished, leaving Perry brooding. She was sorry for having let him see her cry. Though he held her gently, he'd escaped at his first chance. "He probably thinks I'm a weak-kneed female," she mumbled as she dressed, deciding his obvious hurry to leave was a clear indication of his dislike for a whimpering women. "I'll not let him see such a display again," she swore as she opened her door and stepped into the small passageway.
The morning was spent in pleasant conversation as they watched the banks of the Delaware River drift by. Perry and Hunter were the only passengers aboard the small craft, manned by a crew of four. Hunter and the cook added a hand when needed.
He made no apology for his casual dress, and in truth Perry enjoyed watching him. Without a coat she could see his wide shoulders and the outline of his muscles as he moved. He was a far cry from the thin soldier she'd nursed months ago. His attire was much like the other men's aboard, white open-collared shirt and dark trousers, except his boots were highly polished black knee boots. He took to the rock of the ship like a seasoned sailor. Perry soon realized he was in command, with the captain gladly serving as first mate. As she watched the wind blowing his blond hair and pulling at his shirt, she thought he'd make a dashing picture of a pirate.
His voice came as low as the rumbling thunder along the far horizon. "My father often took me with him overseas. Cap was younger then, and always served as captain on my father's ships."
"Where is your father now?" She wanted to hear his voice, but suddenly there was a sadness in his tone.
"Since my mother died, he spends most of his time in England. The war was hard for him to understand. He still chooses to live abroad. I haven't seen him in years."
After a long silence Perry moved the conversation to calmer waters. "Why didn't Abram come with you?"
He looked relieved that she'd changed the subject. She remembered Abram saying Hunter had lived alone when he'd first met him. It seemed to her that when Hunter's mother died, his father abandoned him. He could not have been out of his teens at the time.
Hunter interrupted her thoughts. "Abram hates the sea. He never took to the water. Spends most of his time leaning over the rail losing his last meal. I sent him overland with the Northern Star packed in a wagon behind him. He should arrive a few days after we do. To tell the truth, I don't think he likes going up in the balloon with me much, only he thinks I'd kill myself if I went alone."
The sleek little ship moved out into the Delaware Bay as night fell. Hunter and Perry enjoyed a relaxing dinner in the small dining area off the galley. She found the food simple but well prepared. They both laughed as she related her departure from Molly's Place.
"I looked very much the fat little lady of the evening." Perry's laughter filled the room like music.
"How could anyone think you such?" Hunter teased, loving the way she smiled.
"You once did," Perry answered. It seemed hard to believe that only a few nights ago Hunter had thought her to be Molly.
Hunter's face grew serious. "I'll try never to misjudge you again." His eyes looked deeply into her own. "You're a puzzle to me, but I'm learning." He leaned back in his chair. "I've enjoyed today." His voice was suddenly lower as he gazed at her.
Perry glanced around nervously. If she looked back at him, she'd fall into those gray eyes. He might discover how deeply she wanted the passion he offered. But she wanted his love also, and it never seemed a part of the offering he was willing to give.
Hunter was half drunk on her beauty. The more he talked with her, the more lovely she became. He loved hearing her soft, gentle Southern accent. When she'd climbed the stairs, her slender waist and rounded hips disturbed him greatly. He enjoyed watching her face change expression, for her moods were as varied as the seasons, with each lavished in its own beauty. Her moody pout when she felt challenged contrasted with her free, sunny laughter. Her stormy anger flashed hot and proud, yet when she was teased, her cheeks reddened in a spring blush.
As the evening grew late Hunter was reluctant to leave her side. He kept her talking and laughing in the narrow corridor for as long as he dared.
"I wish this day would never end. I've enjoyed your company immensely," he whispered as he moved closer, due to the cramped surroundings.
"I've enjoyed the day also," Perry answered, suddenly nervous at his nearness.
Hunter moved away. He didn't need to be reminded of his promise. It had haunted him all day, stopping every advance. He now lifted her hand to his lips. "Sleep well," he said softly as he pressed his lips to her small hand. For a moment he moved her fingers slowly past his half-open mouth to his cheek.
"Good night," Perry whispered breathlessly. She moved inside her small cabin and closed the door. Her cheeks burned and her hands shook slightly as she took a deep breath to calm herself. She wanted him to hold her and make love to her. Yet she couldn't give herself lightly. She had to know of his love, for without it she was no better than the whores she'd seen during the war. She had to know he felt as strongly for her as she did for him. For Perry knew, no matter how long she lived, that she would love him even if she never voiced her feelings.
Hours later Perry awoke to a violent tossing of her bed. She jumped from her covers in fright before realizing the entire room was rolling back and forth. Holding on to the bunk's frame, she moved around the bed to gather her cape. She couldn't stay here in the darkness like a frightened child. She had to see what was happening. If the ship was in danger, she must know. After several tries she tied her cape. Opening the door, she moved into the passageway on bare feet. The pitching slammed her from side to side as she fought her way to the stairs. The wind lent assistance when she pushed the hatch open. Then the storm's breath tried to rip the wood from her hands as Perry crawled out onto the deck, using all her strength to close the opening.
She ran the few steps to the railing and watched the fierce drama before her. Huge waves rolled high, breaking in the wind, as if challenging the sky. The moody atmosphere responded with thin, bent fingers of lightning and a rolling, brooding thunder. Nature's battle raged, unmindful of the tiny ship in its midst. Mighty fists of waves hammered against the hull as water spilled over the deck. The sky, not to be outdone, pushed black clouds almost within reach of the boat, then dumped sheets of rain in a sporadic mixture with icy wind.
Perry clenched the railing with both hands frozen. She didn't dare let go to return below deck. The wind might catch her cape and send her sailing into the angry ocean. Her feet were numb and the spray had quickly soaked her cape and gown. The water splashing on deck seemed to pull at her feet. Horror filled her as she felt herself shake with cold. What if I can't hold on?
Her hands grew numb. Suddenly the thunder became the low laughter of death's voice. Perry, afraid to move and questioning her ability to continue, stood immobile. The wind pushed her hard toward the churning water.
Suddenly, large hands covered her own. Hunter's harsh voice screamed above the storm in almost equal fury. "What are you doing above deck! You'll be washed overboard."
Hunter pried Perry's fingers from the railing and turned her around, pulling her into his arms. His wide stance held them firmly on the rolling deck. She barely noticed his harsh tone, only welcomed his strong arms encircling her. Her fingers moved around his neck and held tight as she buried her face in his chest.
"Come on, I've got to get you below!" he yelled again as he lifted her drenched body. The storm seemed to be fighting him for each step.
Another man appeared at Hunter's side. "Open the hatch!" Hunter yelled to the dark form. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
As he stepped sideways into the passageway, silence suddenly surrounded him. With Perry clinging tightly, he moved down the hall to her cabin. He kicked the door wide and stepped inside.
"You fool, you could have been killed!" He spat the words out.
Perry said nothing. She knew he was right. She could feel his anger as he tightened his arms around her. Her only excuse was her lack of sailing knowledge. Yet somehow that seemed flimsy.
As he dropped her onto the bunk, she looked at his face. An angry fire raged out of control in his gray eyes and his jaw was rigid.
The next roll of the ship caught Hunter off-balance and shoved him down on top of her. His wet body covered her, pushing her deep into the covers.
"You could have killed yourself,'' Hunter mumbled an inch from her face. His arms, on either side of Perry's head, held him above her. Yet his chest rested heavily against her breasts and she felt his weight press down on her body. He moved his face an inch closer to her and whispered in agony, "I might have lost you."
For an instant she feared he might strike her. She closed her eyes to brace against the blow. She was totally unprepared as his lips came down upon her own, afire with anger and passion, sending a flame through her that warmed her completely. His mouth demanded a response as his hands moved to either side of her face. Hunter's fingers pushed Perry's damp hair away from her cheeks in a gentle gesture that contrasted with his savage kiss. Any thought of resisting was swept away by a need deep within her.
As Hunter's kiss continued endlessly, the anger within him ebbed away and a fierce passion blew in. She felt his body moving slowly above her. For a long minute they were lost in each other. For them there was no storm outside, for the tempest raged deep within them.
The thought that he might have lost Perry kept scorching Hunter's mind. He wanted to draw her to him and hold her forever. He was driven mad by the way her body moved timidly beneath him. Without question she was as much a part of him as bone and blood. His hands moved down her neck to push way the damp clothes and rest on her warm shoulders. Her skin was soft and yielding to his touch. The feel of her was passion's dream in reality.
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. Hed 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.