The Flame and the Flower by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss Page A

Her eyelids grew heavy and sleep pushed aside even those more requitable thoughts.
     
    When Heather woke, she opened her eyes without moving. The room was still and quiet and she thought herself alone at last, but when she rolled on her back she saw Brandon at his desk with quill in hand, reading over his ledgers. He was dressed and seemed for the moment to have forgotten her, engrossed in his work as he was. She might have been some stick of furniture for as much attention as he paid her. She watched him quietly. There was no denying that he was handsome, physically magnificent. She might have even dreamed once of such a man. But never in those innocent dreams of romance did she imagine that her love would fly to her on the wings of violence, or that she would be kept against her will to fulfill base desires.
     
    "Are you feeling better?" he asked, looking up to find her eyes on him. He smiled and rose from the desk. "I hope you're hungry. I waited to breakfast with you."
     
    She sat up in the corner of the bed, clutching the sheet over her bosom, and her hair fell in soft disarray over her shoulders.
     
    "I want to get dressed," she murmured, watching him cautiously as he came forward to lean against a timber above the bunk.
     
    He smiled warmly. "If you must, my love." His eyes went over her. "Do you want any help?"
     
    Heather almost climbed the wall to escape from him. "Don't you touch me!" she cried.
     
    "Ah-h, I see my little kitten has her claws bared." He looked deep into her eyes. "Shall I make you purr, my sweet?"
     
    "I'll scream," she whimpered. "So help me I will."
     
    His white teeth flashed as he reached out and took her by the wrists and pulled her to him. His eyes held hers prisoner.
     
    "Do you think that would do you any good?" he asked, as if amused. "Unless called for, my men stay away from this cabin when I'm entertaining. Besides, my dear, I can stop your screams quite easily with my kisses."
     
    She shrank from him and a shudder of revulsion passed through her as his gaze went down her body, but he only laughed. Catching her around the waist, he swung her to her feet.
     
    "You're very tempting, m'lady, but it isn't time for your second lesson yet. My servant is waiting to serve us our meal."
     
    He left her to open a locker by the bed, and drew out a man's dressing gown which he handed to her.
     
    "It's a trifle large, but it's the best I can offer at the moment." He smiled. "I'll take you this afternoon to purchase some clothes. If you're like most other women that should perk you up."
     
    She quickly wrapped the robe around her and found herself lost in it. There was no doubt it was his and it was far too big for her. The sleeves trailed below her hands and the bottom dragged the floor, so she had to gather in a good foot of it to walk.
     
    A smile played lightly about Brandon's lips and his eyes gleamed as he observed her. He helped her fold back the sleeves.
     
    "If it's possible to be jealous of a simple garment, m'lady, then I am of this one, and if it had life I'd warrant it would be aquiver now with its good fortune."
     
    She glanced away nervously. "May I be allowed privacy to wash, sir?" She clutched the robe tightly at her throat and whispered, "Please."
     
    He made a sweeping bow and grinned. "Your slightest wish is my command, m'lady. There are matters concerning the cargo that need my attention anyway so you may have some time."
     
    She eyed him covertly as he walked to the door and before he opened it he glanced back at her and grinned quite devilishly, then made his exit with a laugh.
     
    Heather released a small sigh of relief and went to the washstand where she poured water in the bowl. She scrubbed every inch of her body until her skin glowed a healthy pink. She longed for a steaming tub bath so that she could soak in it and remove from her body every trace and remembrance of him, of the fine mist of sweat that had moistened his body and then hers, the feel of