Iris Johansen - Dark Rider

"Not a whit."

"I think it will. It's almost impossible to ignore such a bond."

"The only things I can't ignore at present are your erroneous pronouncements and these sopping-wet clothes." He glanced about him. "And where is our other guest? In her cabin?"

Bradford nodded toward the forecastle, where Lani was standing quietly looking down on Cassie and Kapu. "Watching over her charge. She's very protective. A fine quality. You should appreciate it since you apparently have it in abundance. What a splendid gesture. My heart was quite touched when you dived into the sea." He snapped his fingers. "But of course-it wasn't due to your concern for the girl herself. It was the horse and the possibility of losing a hostage."

Ignoring the mockery, Jared looked back over his shoulder. It was fully dark now and he could see Cassie only as a gleam of white and Kapu as a stiff, unmoving bulk. There was no telling how long it would take to bring the horse to a state calm enough to be moved, and Cassie would not hurry him even if it took all night.

"Shall we set sail?" Bradford asked.

The movement of the ship would only make Cassie's task of quieting the stallion harder. "Not for a while. There's no hurry. I'll tell you when."

"For God's sake, get out of that stall. Do you want him to trample you?"

Cassie raised her head from the straw to see Jared standing in the doorway of the cargo hold. The candle in his hand cast shadows on the planes of his face. Shadows… He was always half in shadow, she thought. The outer shell sleek and glittering, and beneath… darkness and mystery. She raised herself on one elbow. "He won't trample me. He's much calmer now."

"And what will he do once we set sail?" He moved forward to stand at the door of the stall. "Will he still be calm when the ship is no longer rocking like a cradle but skittering and pitching?"

"That's why I'm here." She sat up and brushed her hair back from her face. It was stiff and wiry from the salt water, and too dry. So was her skin. Everything about her felt parched and taut, and she thought longingly of the coconut oil they had packed in Lani's trunk. "I've been waiting for you to up anchor. Why haven't you done it?"

"My apologies. I foolishly thought that you might need a little time to get the horse adjusted." He hung the lantern on the post beside the stall. "I told Bradford to up anchor and set sail in a quarter hour. I hope that will be satisfactory?"

"Yes." She was too weary to bristle at his sarcasm. Besides, he had done her a great service by helping to save Kapu. "I only wondered."

He raised his brows in surprise. "No stinging retort? Are you quite well? Perhaps it was your head and not your shoulder that was damaged."

"I'm not always argumentative. You're the one who-" She stopped and then said, "You see. It's you who sting. I'm trying not to be unpleasant."

"Why on earth?"

"Kapu." She lowered her eyes and said haltingly, "Not that I couldn't have managed by myself, but you made things a good deal easier."

"Thank you."

Sarcasm again, and she felt shamed. His action had been both brave and generous and deserved a generous response. She lifted her gaze and met his directly. "All right. There's a possibility I might not have been able to get the ropes onto Kapu. You helped me and you have my thanks."

He was a silent a moment and then said, "No thanks are necessary. I acted on impulse. I saw a fine horse in danger and did what had to be done." He smiled crookedly. "So you needn't dilute your hatred with gratitude."

"I don't hate you." The words had tumbled out, but she suddenly realized they were true. Her emotions toward Danemount were confused, but hatred was not among them. "Not yet. But if you hurt my father, I'll hate you. I'll hate you and I'll hurt you."

"Only an eye for an eye? I'm surprised you're being so magnanimous."

"You believe you're doing what's right. Lani taught me that I had to try to see both sides of an argument. She even made excuses for Clara."

His expression hardened. "I don't need excuses made for me."

"Because you've always lived a perfect and righteous life?" she flared. "It must be splendid to be able to cast the first stone."

"I wasn't the one who cast the first stone. It was your father."

"You can't be sure. You have no proof." She drew a deep, ragged breath. "I will talk no more about this with you. It does no good."

"On the contrary, it completely purged you of that annoying flash of gratitude. You must be much more comfortable now. You can be as-" He broke off when the ship suddenly dipped and swayed. Kapu neighed and half reared! "On your feet and out of that stall! We're putting about."

Cassie scrambled to her feet but inched closer to Kapu instead of leaving the stall. "Shh, it's all right. It's going to be fine." She put her arms around his neck. "You'll get used to it."

"Keep talking to him." Jared stepped into the stall with them. "But stay away from those hooves." He began to stroke Kapu's head and talk in the same low, soothing tone as Cassie.

The stallion was quieting, Cassie realized in relief. He was responding to Jared in the same magical fashion as he had that night on the beach. Strangely, unlike that night, she felt no resentment-only gratitude. Together they were calming Kapu, making him safer. She was aware of that same bond with Jared that she had felt in the water when they were trying to get the pulley ropes fastened.

It was over a quarter of an hour before Kapu was calm enough for Jared to step away from the stallion. "I don't suppose you'll feel safe enough tonight to leave him and go to your cabin?"

She shook her head. "I'll stay here. The straw is soft. When I first got him, I slept in the stable for more than a month."

"May I point out that you hadn't fallen down a mountain or been dashed against a ship?" He shrugged when she didn't answer. "I didn't think so." He sat down on the straw in the far corner of the stall.

"What are you doing?"

"I'll stay awhile." He grimaced. "Not a month. I'm not that much of a Spartan. Only a few hours to make sure the progress we've made isn't ruined by any rough weather. Sit down." When she didn't move, he added impatiently, "For God's sake, sit down before you fall. I'm not in the least tempted to ravish you at the moment."

"I know that." She settled herself in the corner farthest from him. "You'd have to be extremely lacking in taste to desire a woman who looks like a bit of stringy seaweed."

"Maybe I like seaweed." He leaned back against the wall. "I've been known to have more perverted appetites."

"Really?" she asked curiously. "What?" Then, as she saw him smile, she added quickly, "Lihua says most foreigners are perverted and that they should realize the direct way is best."

"Indeed?" His brows lifted. "I don't recall Lihua ever complaining of my perversions. She must have realized how brutal I'd be if she angered me."

"You know she thought you-" She stopped when his smile widened.

"A God?"

"Lihua has little judgment."

He clutched his chest with a mock groan. "What a sharp thrust." His smile faded. "Though I tend to agree. She should certainly have used better judgment in discussing such subjects with you."

"Because you think what you do is sinful? It's all right to perform such acts but not to subject them to the light of day?"

"Oh, I enjoy subjecting them to the light of day. Morning is a particularly felicitous time to-"

"You know what I mean," she cut into his sentence. "You think Lihua and the other islanders are sinful, but you take advantage of that sinfulness."

"You've made that accusation before." He asked quietly, "You're calling me a hypocrite?"

"What else is there to call you?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you're right," he said wearily. "I admire the islanders, and I envy their honesty and openness, but everyone is raised to think his own way best. It could be that some part of me does condemn them for being different from me. But that part is not my mind or my will."