the raging storm and tumultuous sea around them.
The storm blew unceasingly for three days. It was not a full-fledged hurricane, but a fearsome squall nevertheless. During that time Gabby did not leave the cabin, and Philippe only once or twice, and then just long enough to check on the condition of his ship. But the passage of time was like nothing to the lovers as they rode out the storm as well as their pleasure locked in each other’s arms, and time drifted sweetly on, the rocking of the ship a cradle of passion. Sometimes Philippe made gentle, tender love to her, her rapture more intense than any she had ever known. At other times his fierce ardor swept her along on a tide of passion so consuming that she was left drained and exhausted. Then there were times when just lying side by side, bodies touching. was enough.
The innocent, convent-raised, untutored virgin no longer existed. In her place dwelt a woman who had learned volumes about loving, and recorded a thousand ways to please and be pleased. But not once had Philippe’s words implied she meant anything more to him than a vessel for his lust. He still remained a mystery to her. Why did Philippe treat her so shabbily? No matter how intimate they became she could not penetrate his cold reserve. There was always a part of him held back, even in his greatest moments of ecstasy. Sometimes Gabby hated him, as well as her own traitorous body. No word of love passed his lips. And always that same triumphant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth each time she cried out for pleasure.
Chapter Five
Gabby awoke just as the day was dawning with a blush of crimson in the eastern sky and realized that the storm had finally blown itself out. Busy sounds drifted in and she knew that the ship was once more responding to the directions of men instead of its capricious mistress, the sea. She ventured a glance at Philippe and saw that he still slept, looking much like a little boy, all the lines in his face smooth and his black curly hair lying unruly upon his forehead. She stifled an urge to brush her fingertips across his brow and arose from the bed careful not to disturb him. She shivered in the cool morning air, hugging her arms across her naked breast.
She was unaware that Philippe had awakened and watched her through slumberous eyes while she washed and dressed. Her fragile beauty never ceased to amaze him. When a knock shattered the silence he was instantly up and donning his trousers. Their early morning visitor was the cabin boy with a request to join Captain Giscard for a hot breakfast, their first in three days.
If Gabby thought Philippe’s attitude toward her had altered during those three days when he had become a tender lover, she was mistaken. His manner remained cool and aloof, as if their shared intimacies meant nothing to him. She choked back the resurgence of hate that rose like gorge in her throat, seething bitterly as she recalled the carnal pleasures he had taught her to enjoy in just three short days.
Philippe’s voice startled her from her reverie and she was surprised to see him dressed and shaved while her mind wandered. “Gabrielle, I expect that Duvall will be at the captain’s table,” he said sternly, as if lecturing a willful child. “You will do well to remember all that I have told you about him and act discreetly.”
Gabby bristled with indignation and her eyes flashed violet flames. She opened her mouth to utter a scathing retort but Philippe forestalled her.
“You cannot begin to know what Duvall is like. You must trust my judgment in these matters. Your experience in the ways of the world is sadly lacking.”
“But I am learning fast, am I not?” she mouthed contemptuously.
Philippe frowned menacingly as her chin shot defiantly upward. “I am beginning to think I made a dreadful error in marrying you,” he said. “Your father was mistaken if he thought the convent had gentled you.”
“I was innocent when I left,
The storm blew unceasingly for three days. It was not a full-fledged hurricane, but a fearsome squall nevertheless. During that time Gabby did not leave the cabin, and Philippe only once or twice, and then just long enough to check on the condition of his ship. But the passage of time was like nothing to the lovers as they rode out the storm as well as their pleasure locked in each other’s arms, and time drifted sweetly on, the rocking of the ship a cradle of passion. Sometimes Philippe made gentle, tender love to her, her rapture more intense than any she had ever known. At other times his fierce ardor swept her along on a tide of passion so consuming that she was left drained and exhausted. Then there were times when just lying side by side, bodies touching. was enough.
The innocent, convent-raised, untutored virgin no longer existed. In her place dwelt a woman who had learned volumes about loving, and recorded a thousand ways to please and be pleased. But not once had Philippe’s words implied she meant anything more to him than a vessel for his lust. He still remained a mystery to her. Why did Philippe treat her so shabbily? No matter how intimate they became she could not penetrate his cold reserve. There was always a part of him held back, even in his greatest moments of ecstasy. Sometimes Gabby hated him, as well as her own traitorous body. No word of love passed his lips. And always that same triumphant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth each time she cried out for pleasure.
Chapter Five
Gabby awoke just as the day was dawning with a blush of crimson in the eastern sky and realized that the storm had finally blown itself out. Busy sounds drifted in and she knew that the ship was once more responding to the directions of men instead of its capricious mistress, the sea. She ventured a glance at Philippe and saw that he still slept, looking much like a little boy, all the lines in his face smooth and his black curly hair lying unruly upon his forehead. She stifled an urge to brush her fingertips across his brow and arose from the bed careful not to disturb him. She shivered in the cool morning air, hugging her arms across her naked breast.
She was unaware that Philippe had awakened and watched her through slumberous eyes while she washed and dressed. Her fragile beauty never ceased to amaze him. When a knock shattered the silence he was instantly up and donning his trousers. Their early morning visitor was the cabin boy with a request to join Captain Giscard for a hot breakfast, their first in three days.
If Gabby thought Philippe’s attitude toward her had altered during those three days when he had become a tender lover, she was mistaken. His manner remained cool and aloof, as if their shared intimacies meant nothing to him. She choked back the resurgence of hate that rose like gorge in her throat, seething bitterly as she recalled the carnal pleasures he had taught her to enjoy in just three short days.
Philippe’s voice startled her from her reverie and she was surprised to see him dressed and shaved while her mind wandered. “Gabrielle, I expect that Duvall will be at the captain’s table,” he said sternly, as if lecturing a willful child. “You will do well to remember all that I have told you about him and act discreetly.”
Gabby bristled with indignation and her eyes flashed violet flames. She opened her mouth to utter a scathing retort but Philippe forestalled her.
“You cannot begin to know what Duvall is like. You must trust my judgment in these matters. Your experience in the ways of the world is sadly lacking.”
“But I am learning fast, am I not?” she mouthed contemptuously.
Philippe frowned menacingly as her chin shot defiantly upward. “I am beginning to think I made a dreadful error in marrying you,” he said. “Your father was mistaken if he thought the convent had gentled you.”
“I was innocent when I left,
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