His lashes lifted, their gazes met. He did not smile. “I am undone.”
Katherine stared, breathless all over again. Why did he have to say such things? He was an experienced lover, he had had many women. Did he tell each and every one of them such things? She imagined that flattery was second nature to such a man.
He rolled onto his side, his gaze sweeping over her bare breasts. Katherine began to reach for her torn bodice, but he stilled her hand. “You have nothing to hide. You are lovely, by far the loveliest woman I have ever seen.”
“Don’t.”
He sat up. “But it is the truth.”
Her glance slipped over him; his breeches were open. Her eyes met his, and she watched him strip off his shirt. The muscles in his shoulders, arms and chest rippled as he moved. Anticipation lanced her. His smile was intimate, for her alone.
“Why did you do that? Why did you…” She hesitated, beginning to blush.
“Why did I finish in such a manner?” His smile was gone. He was very sober. “I was incapable of control the first time we lay together. And although it was very difficult this time, I did not want to spill my seed inside of you, Katherine.” His jaw seemed tense.
She was amazed. “You protect me from bearing a bastard?”
He rose gracefully to his feet, paced across the room. When he spoke, it was to the stone wall. “I am not so cruel, to bring my bastards into the world.” He glanced at her. “I do not want children. I will not have children. I will not bequeath them this life.”
Katherine stared at him, suddenly aching for him.
Katherine could not move, nor did she want to. But the fire had long since died, the moon had risen and set, and from the light within the chamber, she knew it was a new day and close to dinnertime.
Her limbs were sore, as was every part of her body, but it was a fantastic soreness. She would never blush again. Had she and Liam not done every possible sexual act that could be done by a man and a woman? She had lost count of the times he had made love to her. Katherine was smiling. She stretched like a cat, sighed at how wonderful it felt, stretched again, and finally sat up.
She was alone. Liam had last made love to her in the full light of morning, and before she had fallen asleep afterward, she had been aware of him rising. She wondered what business compelled him to leave their bed after such a day and such a night. Feeling sated and replete, yet somehow still eager, and amazingly, anticipating the night that would soon come, Katherine pushed the bed covers aside. She was stark naked. She looked down at her breasts, surprised to see red marks on them, then she touched herself, a small pleased caress, and finally she slipped from the bed. Her heart was singing.
Katherine tried to rein in her joy. She was a fallen woman, a pirate’s whore, and her mood should be dark and despairing. She sobered slightly, looking around the bare, dismal chamber. She did not want to dwell on what could not be changed, she thought fiercely. She did not want to dwell on what made her sad—on her abduction and her current predicament. She wanted to think only of Liam’s incredible and powerful lovemaking.
Then she became still, her heart heavy, thinking of the fact that he refused to spill his seed inside of her. She was relieved, of course. She had no wish to bear his bastard. But…there was something terribly sad about a man so determined not to have children.
She shoved such thoughts aside. Her wandering eye spotted the small coffer he had tried to give her yesterday morning. With a jolt she realized that they had stayed abed for more than twenty-four hours. She glanced at the disheveled mattress. It did not seem possible—but it was.
Katherine saw her clothes, strewn about the floor. She reached for her drawers, but they were torn in two, and she tossed them aside. The gold dress she picked up and laid carefully on the bed. The bodice was torn—how well she remembered his tearing it—and she would have to mend it. It was far too beautiful to be left in such disrepair.
Her gaze turned back to the small, enameled box.
Don’t, she told herself. But she was unable to stop thinking about his “gift.”
“I don’t want your gifts, Liam O’Neill,” she cried.
Sadness had replaced all of her joy. Katherine sat down on the bed, pulling a fur about her naked body, angry now, staring fixedly at the box. A box she hated because it represented what she had become—what she now was. Angry tears filled her eyes. Somehow she had thought to fool herself and ignore the facts of her life.
Abruptly Katherine stood, dropping the fur, and stalked to the coffer. A small brass key was fitted in the lock and she turned it. The lid popped open. Katherine gasped.
A magnificent necklace met her eyes. Five strands of rubies, each stone set in gold, with diamonds winking about the rim of each gem. The “gift” was no trinket. It was jewelry fit for a princess, but not a whore. Katherine could not believe her eyes. And she could not understand it—or him.
Entranced, she picked up the necklace. It was very heavy, almost too heavy to wear. Wearing it would not, could not, be comfortable. But then, she would never know, would she? Because she would never wear his “gift.”
Katherine bit her lip, holding the necklace up to her throat while turning to stare into the looking glass above the chest. But at the sight that greeted her, she dropped the rubies as if they had burned her.
For she had seen a tall, naked woman, one whose wild red hair hung loose and unbound, one whose mouth was swollen and bruised, one whose eyes gleamed with irrepressible excitement, wearing a priceless necklace above her naked, quivering breasts. In the looking glass she had not seen Katherine FitzGerald, the daughter of an earl.She had seen an expensively paid courtesan—she had seen a whore.
Katherine left the necklace lying on the floor where she had dropped it. Her heart beating very hard and very fast now, she pulled on her shift and petticoats. Unfortunately, she had no other clothes of her own; she had no choice but to wear the torn dress. As she had no comb, Katherine raked her hair with her fingertips, but it hardly helped. Finally she bent and retrieved the necklace, replacing it in the coffer, which she locked. Then, holding the dress together at the neckline, she hurried from the room and down the stairs.
Liam was standing at the fireplace, lost in thought. Guy sat on the floor not far from his feet, playing with a big wolfhound pup. Macgregor sat at the trestle table, engrossed in a book. A book? Katherine had not realized that he, too, could read.
Liam’s distant expression turned into a warm smile as he turned toward her. On the bottom of the stairs, Katherine froze. His smile grew fixed as he met her stare, then disappeared. His glance lowered to the coffer she held in her hand.
