Read Online The Flame and the Flower by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kathleen E. Woodiwiss
Tags: Fiction, Historical fiction, General, Romance, Historical, Sagas, Love Stories, London (England) - Social Life and Customs - 19th Century
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enough for her to gather courage to try the door, but her thought of escape was badly timed for she found him in the companionway giving orders to one of his crew. Angrily she slammed the door closed when he glanced up and smiled at her mockingly.
When George came with the noon meal she was polite, but not to the point of being gracious. Silently she cursed the man.
Brandon pushed his chair back from the table, a time later, his hunger for food satisfied, and Heather felt his eyes sweep her. A silence filled the room and she swallowed hard, keeping her gaze averted. She knew his affections had warmed again and her heart refused to slow to a regular beat. His voice when he spoke was low and rich with passion.
"Come here, Heather."
She froze in the chair. She would not go to him. She would stay where she was. He could not bully her. She shook her head and managed to croak a weak, "No."
His eyelids lowered and he smiled slowly. "I admire your spirit, ma cherie , but do you think it wise to resist me? You know as well as I that you do not possess the strength to stop me from taking what I want. Would it not be better to acknowledge defeat and come willingly?"
Heather shook and terror could not be denied. Her courage failed her. Slowly she rose on trembling legs, her teeth tugging nervously at her bottom lip, and went to stand before him. He smiled at her leisurely and sliding his hand up her arm, pulled her between his legs and down upon his knee where she sat rigidly as he pressed his lips against her throat.
"Don't be afraid," he breathed. "I won't hurt you."
His mouth moved over her shaking lips and parted them as his arms slid tightly around her, one hand settling on her back while the other sought her hip. With a half sob, Heather went limp against his chest, trembling violently within his grasp. His kisses went on it seemed to her without end. When his hand slid from her hip to her thigh and moved slowly upward along the inside, caressing it, she groaned under his kiss and strained against his chest. But the embrace could not be broken. His lips left hers to kiss the corners of her mouth, her chin, her ear.
"Don't fight me," he murmured. "Let yourself enjoy it."
"I can't," she choked.
"Yes, you can."
His lips as they traveled from her throat to the rounded curves above her gown were moist, parted, drinking in the sweetness of her flesh. They caressed her breasts unhurriedly, moving from the deep valley between to the pointed peaks which rose up beneath her gown. His breath came more rapidly and touched her skin like a hot iron. Aroused, he unfastened her bodice and pressed passionate kisses on her naked flesh.
From the cabin door came a hesitant knocking and a black scowl crossed Brandon's face. Heather frantically clutched her garments together over her bosom in shame and tried to leave his knee when he loosened his hold upon her, but he tightened it again, forcing her to stay where she was. When he called out to the intruder, there was no doubt of his irritation.
"Blast you, come in!"
George opened the door and stood red-faced as he looked across the cabin at them, shuffling his feet in embarrassment.
"Beggin' your pardon, cap'n, but a messenger's come from a merchant who wants to speak with you about the cargo. His man says he's interested in buying the whole lot of rice and indigo if the two o' you can meet and agree."
"He wants me to go to him?" Brandon asked, almost incredulously. "Why in hell's name can't he come here to the Fleetwood as the others do?"
"The man's crippled, so his messenger says, cap'n," the servant replied. "If you're willing, his man will look over the cargo to see its value and then take you to him."
Brandon muttered an oath and the scowl deepened. "Ask Mr. Boniface to give him a tour, will you, George? Then send the man in here when he's through."
George skittered out, closing the door behind him
When George came with the noon meal she was polite, but not to the point of being gracious. Silently she cursed the man.
Brandon pushed his chair back from the table, a time later, his hunger for food satisfied, and Heather felt his eyes sweep her. A silence filled the room and she swallowed hard, keeping her gaze averted. She knew his affections had warmed again and her heart refused to slow to a regular beat. His voice when he spoke was low and rich with passion.
"Come here, Heather."
She froze in the chair. She would not go to him. She would stay where she was. He could not bully her. She shook her head and managed to croak a weak, "No."
His eyelids lowered and he smiled slowly. "I admire your spirit, ma cherie , but do you think it wise to resist me? You know as well as I that you do not possess the strength to stop me from taking what I want. Would it not be better to acknowledge defeat and come willingly?"
Heather shook and terror could not be denied. Her courage failed her. Slowly she rose on trembling legs, her teeth tugging nervously at her bottom lip, and went to stand before him. He smiled at her leisurely and sliding his hand up her arm, pulled her between his legs and down upon his knee where she sat rigidly as he pressed his lips against her throat.
"Don't be afraid," he breathed. "I won't hurt you."
His mouth moved over her shaking lips and parted them as his arms slid tightly around her, one hand settling on her back while the other sought her hip. With a half sob, Heather went limp against his chest, trembling violently within his grasp. His kisses went on it seemed to her without end. When his hand slid from her hip to her thigh and moved slowly upward along the inside, caressing it, she groaned under his kiss and strained against his chest. But the embrace could not be broken. His lips left hers to kiss the corners of her mouth, her chin, her ear.
"Don't fight me," he murmured. "Let yourself enjoy it."
"I can't," she choked.
"Yes, you can."
His lips as they traveled from her throat to the rounded curves above her gown were moist, parted, drinking in the sweetness of her flesh. They caressed her breasts unhurriedly, moving from the deep valley between to the pointed peaks which rose up beneath her gown. His breath came more rapidly and touched her skin like a hot iron. Aroused, he unfastened her bodice and pressed passionate kisses on her naked flesh.
From the cabin door came a hesitant knocking and a black scowl crossed Brandon's face. Heather frantically clutched her garments together over her bosom in shame and tried to leave his knee when he loosened his hold upon her, but he tightened it again, forcing her to stay where she was. When he called out to the intruder, there was no doubt of his irritation.
"Blast you, come in!"
George opened the door and stood red-faced as he looked across the cabin at them, shuffling his feet in embarrassment.
"Beggin' your pardon, cap'n, but a messenger's come from a merchant who wants to speak with you about the cargo. His man says he's interested in buying the whole lot of rice and indigo if the two o' you can meet and agree."
"He wants me to go to him?" Brandon asked, almost incredulously. "Why in hell's name can't he come here to the Fleetwood as the others do?"
"The man's crippled, so his messenger says, cap'n," the servant replied. "If you're willing, his man will look over the cargo to see its value and then take you to him."
Brandon muttered an oath and the scowl deepened. "Ask Mr. Boniface to give him a tour, will you, George? Then send the man in here when he's through."
George skittered out, closing the door behind him
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