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  Kathleen returned to her room where she had Lally help her arrange her hair into a shining coil atop her head. She dressed carefully in a melon-colored silk gown, and was just finishing when Reed came up to wash for dinner. “I’ll meet you in the dining room,” she commented, and hastily exited the room.

  Dinner was a very strained affair, the two of them only speaking when necessary. Several times Kathleen caught Reed staring at her as if about to tell her something, but each time he merely resumed his meal. As the meal ended, he rose. “Dinner was delicious. Thank you, Kat.”

  “Thank Mae. She cooked it.”

  “Regardless, it was good.” He cleared his throat and continued hastily, “I am going back out as soon as I change clothes. I’ll probably be late, so don’t wait up.”

  “That’s fine,” she said, trying to maintain a calm she didn’t feel. She dared not look at him for fear her eyes would give her away.

  As soon as Reed had changed into a crisp black shirt and pants and left, she hurriedly dressed in the new skirt and blouse, adding her jewelry. She slipped into the black heels, inserted a tall tortoise-shell comb in her hair, and draped the delicate mantilla over it. Viewing herself in the mirror, she looked like a Spanish dancer. A satisfied smile crossed her face.

  “Good luck!” she told her image.

  Chapter 9

  THE auction arena where the slaves were viewed and sold was a large round platform outdoors, with a planked floor a few inches above the ground. Potential buyers usually stood or were seated outside the huge area while the slaves were paraded around the inside of the circle. Later, each slave was brought individually to the center of the arena, stripped, examined, and sold to the highest bidder.

  Tonight the platform would be used for dancing. Lanterns were strung on ropes over it, and torches were lit all around the perimeter. At one end, a small band of musicians played softly, and on another side were tables laden with drink. Men and women sat on chairs arranged at smaller tables scattered around the edges of the circle, or sat on the planks themselves. The women resembled brightly colored peacocks in their gay skirts and blouses and the men were not far behind. Dominique had worn breeches of royal blue and the white shirt Kathleen had sewn for him, and had tied a bandanna rakishly about his head, making him indeed look a pirate.

  As they approached the fiesta, Kathleen noticed Jean, dressed completely in white, with Eleanore, who was resplendent in a turquoise dress with white eyelet lace. She stopped abruptly as she caught sight of Pierre sitting at a nearby table, his right arm in a sling. “There’s Pierre,” she said.

  “No one will let him bother you, cherie,” Dominique calmed her. “Come. Pull the mantilla close about your face so that everyone will wonder who is with me. Let us keep them in suspense for a little while.”

  Pulling her close to him, he led her to a table. When he had seated her, he sat across from her. As she looked toward him, she realized he had chosen the table next to Reed, Jean, and Eleanore. Rosita was standing at Reed’s elbow.

  Jean had noticed Dominique’s arrival. Nudging Eleanore, he nodded toward Kathleen, who looked quickly away. She heard him say, “Who is the intriguing wench with Dom?”

  All eyes turned toward her as she let the mantilla fall forward to shadow her face.

  “Dominique, where have you been hiding your shy lady? Who is she?” Eleanore asked curiously.

  Kathleen leaned forward and whispered, “Dominique, perhaps this was a mistake.”

  He shook his head, frowning. “No. Why should you sit at home while the rest of the island celebrates? Fight fire with fire, Kathleen.” He reached over and brushed the mantilla from her head.

  “It’s Kathleen!” Eleanore exclaimed.

  Kathleen looked up into Reed’s diamond blue eyes.

  Reed turned to Dominique and said churlishly, “While I did not object to your escorting my wife about the island, I hardly expected you to carry it this far.”

  “Kathleen, you simply look ravishing!” Eleanore babbled, ignoring Reed’s dark mood. “You look so Spanish and festive!”

  Tearing her eyes from Reed’s, Kathleen answered quietly, “Thank you, Eleanore. You look quite lovely yourself. Turquoise sets off your hair so wonderfully.”

  “Won’t you two join us?” Jean offered.

  “No, thank you. We are fine right here, Jean,” Kathleen replied, eliciting a broad wink from Dominique behind Reed’s back.

  “It is plain to see that they do not wish to be disturbed,” Rosita said snidely. “Come querido, dance with me.” She pulled Reed to his feet and led him out onto the dance floor.

  “This may not work, Dom,” Kathleen said moodily. “We are not off to a very good start.”

  “Have more confidence, little sister. At least he did not drag you back home.”

  “No, he would rather I see him dance with Rosita,” she said as she watched them whirl by.

  “While he is occupied, I will take this chance to get you some wine.” Dominique slipped off.

  Eleanore took his chair almost immediately, her brown eyes sparkling with glee. “Kathleen, what are you up to this time?”

  “I think I’m up to my neck in hot water,” Kathleen muttered.

  “Oh, really? Why do I get the impression Rosita is about to get some competition and a well-deserved lesson in the bargain?”

  “Am I so obvious?”

  “In all but your attitude, my dear. It seems your courage needs a little bolstering, but the outfit speaks loud and clear. You are without a doubt the most beautiful woman here tonight. Every man’s eyes are drawn to you.”

  “All but Reed’s it seems,” Kathleen retorted.

  “So do something about it,” Eleanore quipped.

  “Such as?”

  “Start by dancing with Jean, and then Dominique and any man who asks you. Then let intuition be your guide.” With that Eleanore dragged Jean from his seat and shoved the two of them onto the dance floor.

  “I think we are meant to dance,” Jean said, shaking his head at Eleanore and smiling down at Kathleen.

  “I got that impression also.” Kathleen smiled back.

  “Shall we, madam?” Jean invited. Bowing gallantly, he proceeded to sweep her into the tempo of the dance.

  Kathleen was hard put to keep track of the number of dance partners she had after that, or the glasses of wine she had pressed into her hand. Soon she took to handing the wine to anyone nearby before she overstretched her limit.

  Of one thing she was achingly aware. Reed had not once asked her to dance and was pointedly ignoring her, although she would turn and catch him staring at her with a quizzical expression when he thought she was not watching.

  They were well into the evening, and Kathleen and Dominique were sitting at their table catching their breath, when she suddenly noticed the couples deserting the dance floor. Only Rosita was left standing a few feet away from Reed in her red skirt and bright yellow blouse. The musicians started playing a lively Latin number, and Rosita began to dance. She lifted her skirts, switching them about her brown legs, and whirled off on fleet bare feet. She danced once around the circle and came back to face Reed where she stomped her feet and leaned forward, teasing him with her heaving breasts. Hands on hips, she undulated before him, swaying her hips temptingly, and then whirled around, causing her skirts to flare out around her bare brown thighs.

  Kathleen could not fail to notice the interest showing plainly on Reed’s face. Excusing herself, she quietly made her way around to where the musicians were. Tapping the guitar player on the shoulder, she whispered something to him and he nodded affirmatively with a broad grin. Kathleen reached her seat just as Rosita finished her dance and sat down across from Reed, a pleased look on her flushed face.

  Winking at Dominique, Kathleen walked to where Rosita had started her dance as the musicians played a fanfare. She struck a traditional pose from the flamenco; back arched, head back, one arm curved over her head, the other extended from her side. A hush
fell over the crowd as they waited expectantly. Kathleen ignored her when Rosita commented acidly, “What a farce this will be.”

  With the first fast beats of the music Kathleen’s feet started tapping out sharply the staccato beats of the flamenco, keeping time perfectly with the guitarists. As her heels rapped swiftly on the wooden floor, she began snapping her fingers in an alternate rhythm, bringing her arms out in front of her. Green eyes blazed into those of blue as she danced toward Reed, hands extended in a beckoning gesture, wrists twisting in entreaty. When she stood just inches from him she spun away, skirts swirling high to reveal her bare thighs for a brief instant. Her eyes boring into his, her feet constantly tapping, she pulled the comb from her hair, flinging it at him. One by one she removed the pins from her hair until it fell in a shining cascade down her back. Lifting it high off her neck, she arched her breasts toward him, swaying her hips provocatively as she moved toward him, her gold earrings swinging with each step.

  Again she let her hair fall as she spun away, and it spread out like copper flames as she danced. She stopped, arms extended upward, hands weaving their own intriguing language as her hips enticed him. She was caught up in the dance, and the rhythm of her body spoke to him in a language as old as time itself. Open lust showed on Reed’s face, and he found it impossible to tear his eyes from hers. He felt as one bewitched.

  Turning sideways of him, careful not to break eye contact, she swished her skirts about to the rhythm of the music, teasing him with flashes of her slim thighs, kicking her heels up one at a time; never missing a beat. Bringing her arms again over her head, she started clapping out a new cadence, twisting her body from side to side, bracelets jangling as she inched backward. The message of her movements and the spark in her eyes were clearly a dare to him. Suddenly, as the music increased in tempo to a building crescendo, she whirled toward him, falling on her knees before him, head to the floor, hair spread out at his feet in a momentary submissive gesture. With the last tremendous beat of the music, she straightened her back, thrusting her breasts forward, one arm reached over her head, the other extended toward him, her emerald eyes flashing their challenge.

  Silence reigned as she sat posed at his feet. Then, slowly, he reached out, taking her outstretched hand in his, blue eyes smoldering with desire. Standing, he pulled her to her feet, drawing her close to him, enfolding her in his arms. Bending his head to hers, he took her lips in a searing kiss of passion as he swept her into his arms. The wild applause and calls of her audience fell on deaf ears as he carried her off without a word.

  Kathleen wrapped her arms about his neck and snuggled against his warm, broad chest as he carried her silently home. He took the stairs as lightly as a feather, kicked open the door, and walking to the bed, dropped her onto it. In the soft lamplight she watched as he shrugged out of his clothes. Quietly she slipped off her necklaces and blouse, dropping them to the floor along with her skirt.

  Reed came to the side of the bed, gazing deeply into her dark green eyes, and she held out her arms to him in welcome. He sank on the bed next to her, clasping her to him in a fervent embrace. He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, leaving her gasping for breath. He nibbled at her ear and whispered, “Kat, my beautiful, delectable kitten. How I have missed you and your sweet body beneath mine.”

  The week that followed was a delightful interlude filled with love and laughter. Reed had finished his work at the warehouse and told Jean flatly to find someone else to take over any last-minute details. He would be there to help with the slave auction in two weeks, but until then he wanted time alone with Kathleen.

  The two lovers could not seem to get enough of each other. Dawn tinged the eastern sky that first morning after the fiesta before Kathleen curled up exhausted but content beneath the sheets and closed her heavy eyelids. Reed’s deep voice jolted her awake a few hours later as he complained, “What a sleepyhead I’ve married. Come, wench! It’s eleven o’clock and I’m dying of hunger.”

  Kathleen nestled deeper under the covers, burying her head in the pillow. Suddenly the cover and pillow both were gone and Reed was planting kisses up and down her body. “Just what kind of heartless monster are you to interrupt a girl’s beauty sleep?” she giggled groggily.

  “First of all, you are far too beautiful already, and secondly, you are a woman. No mere girl could arouse a man the way you do, my sweet, or satisfy him so well.”

  “You’ve not only kissed the blarney stone, Reed Taylor, but you must have swallowed the blamed thing whole!” she laughed.

  He smiled down at her, blue eyes twinkling. “I love to hear you laugh, Kat. You have a merry, tinkling laugh that rings of mischief.” He kissed her lightly on the nose and rose from the bed. “Stop lying there looking so tempting and get dressed before I forget my empty stomach and join you there. It wouldn’t surprise me if one day they find us together in bed expired from starvation.”

  Kathleen was dressed and brushing her hair when her eyes lit on the black onyx ring lying on her dresser top. She picked it up and turned to him. “Reed?”

  “Hmm?” He looked up from his task of pulling on his boots.

  Taking his left hand, she slipped the ring on his finger, delighted that it fit. He looked from the ring to her face in confusion.

  “I want you to have it,” she said softly. “Do you like it?”

  “It is splendid! Yes, I like it very much.” He examined the ring closely. “Where did you come by it?”

  “It was a gift from my mother to my father, and now I want you to wear it if you will.”

  “I will wear it with pride and pleasure because you gave it to me, Kat. Thank you.” He pulled her close and gazed into her large emerald eyes. “Someday perhaps it will be passed down to our son.”

  “Our son?” she echoed. “I hadn’t thought that far, I guess.”

  “Well, at the rate we are going, I’m surprised we haven’t one on the way already.” He eyed her questioningly.

  “Are you so anxious to be a father? I had no idea that the thought might appeal to you. We’ve never spoken of it before. Do you like children?”

  “Yes, I like them. I get along with them well, and I want children of my own.”

  “You mentioned a son. What about daughters?”

  “Daughters with slanted green eyes and long copper tresses will be welcome, too,” he smiled down at her.

  “And if they should have black hair and eyes like silver-blue stars?” she asked softly.

  “As long as they have a face as lovely as their mother’s and the figure of a sea nymph like hers.”

  “I’ve heard they arrive smaller and with pudgy cheeks and bellies and lots of wrinkles,” she giggled impishly. “Come on. Let’s get you some food before you lose all the strength you are going to need to start this family you speak of.”

  After breakfast they walked to Jean’s where Reed told him to have someone else take over his remaining duties. As they were leaving, Eleanore asked, “Will I be seeing you for lunch, Kathleen?”

  Reed turned to the petite woman and said jauntily, “My dear Eleanore, Kathleen will not be available for lunch or for tea, nor much else for at least a few days. She will be much too occupied in entertaining me.” He laughed at Eleanore’s amused look and Kathleen’s red face.

  “Reed!” Kathleen exclaimed, trying desperately to hide a smile. Taking him by the arm, she steered him toward the door. “Please excuse us,” she said with a hint of laughter. “I must take this brute home and teach him better manners. He is not fit for public company just now. He takes these fits every now and then, I’ve heard.”

  “And the only cure is a long bedrest with a ravishing cat-eyed goddess!” he shot over his shoulder as she dragged him down the steps.

  The time they spent together was idyllic, almost a honeymoon. They had long talks, long walks on moonlit beaches, ate dinners alone by dim candlelight, and made love so often that they were rarely fully dressed. One afternoon, after a particularly satisfying session of love
making, Reed lay next to her, toying with the long strands of her hair.

  “There is something special about you, Kat, beyond your lovely face and exquisite body,” he said quietly. “No other woman has ever affected me the way you do, or satisfied me more. What strange power do you hold over me? Could it be I have married a witch who has cast her magic spell on me?”

  “Only if it is possible that I have wed a tall, dark god who moves with the grace of a panther and can see into my very soul with frosty blue eyes, and set my entire being aflame with a mere touch.” She looked at him lovingly, running her fingers lightly through the curly black mass on his broad chest.

  “Are you content with me then?” he asked lightly.

  “More than content, my darling,” she sighed, drawing him to her once more.

  For five days they shut themselves away from the world, seeing no one but the servants. They talked and laughed and learned about each other. Reed told her more of Savannah, promising to take her there soon. He told her about his family and the plantation called Chimera, which meant fantasy or strange dream. He spoke of how after his father had died last year, his mother had begged him to give up the sea and settle down. Though he went home periodically to see that everything was running smoothly under the overseer’s hand, he would not stay, not even when his younger sister added her pleas. He described his mother and sister in loving terms, and Kathleen knew he felt very close to them even though they did not understand his love for the sea.

  When Kathleen asked him about her aunt’s family, he depicted her aunt as a lovely woman, her uncle as very congenial, her cousin Amy as very petite and pretty, if somewhat spoiled, and cousin Ted a likeable young whelp of nineteen inclined toward practical jokes.

  “I think I’ll probably like Ted the best,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

  “I’m sure of it, and just as sure that Amy will be pea-green with envy when she sees you.”

  “Why?”