Jade Star (Star Quartet 4)

She heard Kanola’s cries, but could only imagine how the men had hurt her before she’d managed to escape them and jump overboard. “I will not do it,” she said.

“Ah, more spirit. I repeat, Miss Juliana DuPres, you have no choice in the matter.”

“I do! I would kill any man who tried to hurt me!”

“And I, my dear,” he said with deadly calm, “have two weeks to change that violent attitude of yours.” He rose, staring down at her. “You know, you are almost lovely enough to tempt me. Ah, I see that such a notion repels you. Perhaps you believe me too old. But it is usually older men who are the rich ones. I will return shortly with your bath.”

He left her alone. Jules looked toward the cabin door. It wasn’t locked. But that fact gained her nothing. She had no clothes, and even if she did find something to cover herself with, there were all those sailors abovedeck. Even if she managed to escape them, what would she do? Kanola jumped, knowing she wouldn’t be able to make it to shore. The thought was terrifying and impossible. She came up to her knees and stared out the porthole at the endless stretch of ocean. Miles and miles from anywhere.

Jameson Wilkes returned shortly. “Cover yourself well,” he said to her, then stood aside as a sailor entered with a stout wooden hipbath, followed by two other men who carried buckets of steaming water.

The men’s eyes slid hungrily toward her when they thought the captain wasn’t looking.

Jameson closed the door behind them, then turned and said, “Your bath, my dear.”

She could only stare at him.

“Come, now.”

“Get out,” she said.

“No,” he said very gently. “This is your first lesson in obedience. Have you ignored the fact that it was I who stripped you? Come, I am well used to women’s bodies, and will not lose my head over the sight of you.”

“No.”

She saw his expression change, and swallowed convulsively. She closed her eyes, humiliation and fear washing through her.

“Don’t make me force you.”

Slowly Jules rose from the bed, pulling the sheet with her. She walked to the tub, her eyes fastened to the soft Turkey carpet beneath her feet. She felt him jerk the sheet away from her.

Never in her life had another person seen her unclothed. Even her mother. Even Sarah, her sister.

“Get into the tub.”

She did.

Although Jameson Wilkes had studied her closely and quite objectively when he’d first brought her unconscious to his cabin, seeing her lithe body in movement made his eyes glitter with pleasure. She was quite, quite lovely. His eyes traveled up the length of her long white legs, slender and beautifully shaped, to her hips. They weren’t full and rounded, but he didn’t expect that. She was too young and hadn’t borne children. She looked coltish, but certainly not sexless. He mentally added another five hundred dollars to the price he’d already decided upon.

He handed her some perfumed soap. “Wash your hair well,” he said, and returned to his chair.

Jules tried to hide herself from him, but it wasn’t possible. Her breasts were plainly visible, no matter how she tried to curl down into the tub.

After some moments, there was a rap at the cabin door. Jameson Wilkes said quickly, “Don’t worry. You will have your privacy. ’Tis just fresh water to rinse your hair.”

Privacy, she thought, feeling what must be hysteria welling up in her, a condition she’d always considered the epitome of idiocy.

When he told her to stand up, she obeyed. He rinsed her hair thoroughly, then fashioned a turban around her head. He handed her a large towel and helped her out of the tub. He said nothing as Juliana quickly dried herself, then wrapped the towel around her. Her breasts, he thought, pleased, were nicely rounded and high, enough of a handful for any man.

He handed her a pearl-handled brush and comb.

Jules sat on the edge of the bed and began to untangle her wet hair. This is a dream, she thought, a nightmare, and I’ll wake up soon, and shiver, then laugh at my own strange imagination. Then I’ll go visit Kanola and play with her children . . .

“You know, your tanned face and shoulders will lighten up quite nicely, I think, after two weeks indoors. You’ll be perfectly white all over. Nor,” Jameson Wilkes continued, “will we have to darken your brows or eyelashes. All the redheads I’ve known have had to do so, you know.”

Jules thought briefly of the faded daguerreotype of her French grandmother that her own mother kept well hidden from her father. She’d had dark brows, and her eyelashes appeared thick and curling, making her eyes look languid and quite sultry. Jules said nothing.

“Of course, such flame-colored hair as yours is unusual and not always natural. I much enjoyed assuring myself that it was natural.”