8.
Dreams and other things
"You shouldn't be here." she murmured.
He did not leave.
She felt the warmth of his breath as he came across the bed. His hand trailing over the the top of the covers. . .tracing the line of her body.
She wanted to move. . .to sit up, and fight, but the feel of him, leaning over her, and the fragrance, (so faint ) of cigars soothed her.
His mouth, hot and demanding came down to claim hers, forcing her lips apart.
Her body arched in response. . .and he drew away his mouth from hers, and began kissing a trail of fire down her neck.
His hand began pulling down the sheet. . .slowly, his finger tips just touching her skin as he did.
His lips followed, and she gasped in pleased surprise at the sensation caused by his moustache on her skin. Further down he went, until he was at her breast.
Her hands went to his head, her fingers wove into the thick curls of his hair.
" Please. . ." she whispered, as he teased her, his fingers travelling in circles over her belly, down her thigh, as his tongue touched one of her nipples.
Her hands went to his shoulders, his back. . .down his arms. She wanted to make him touch her where she needed to be touched.
She caught his left hand where it was tormenting her and pressed it, close to that new and delicious ache that she was feeling.
She ran her other hand down his right arm,. . .but there was no hand. Wendy had only the rounded smooth stump of an arm in her hand.
She traced it delicately with her fingers, and he looked up from her breast to watch her, as she caressed the useless limb. Then she reached over and kissed it. Kissed him. Tasted the flesh where a hand should have been, and felt the delicate thrill travel through her body.
He was no longer touching her, he was over her and she was looking up into the bright blue of his eyes. . .
" I don't know why I did that". . .she said. " I don't know why I did that. . ."
Wendy sat up in bed, her heart hammering in her chest, and her cheeks burned. As soon as her breathing returned to normal, she lifted the sheets cautiously, and peered beneath. With a sigh and a slight laugh at her foolishness, she fell back.
She was not unclothed, and there was no Captain Hook in the bed. She put her hand over her eyes and groaned. How wicked was that? To dream of having a man in your bed. . .and worse. . .to have been slightly disappointed that you had only been dreaming.
She wanted nothing more than to slip back into that dream and remain. . .just a little longer. But it was time to rise, and face the man who was once again haunting her dreams.
He did not look as though he had slept at all. His face was still pale, and his eyes were a bit sunken.
He looked at her as though she were as dangerous a beast as the crocodile, when she first entered the cabin.
The look changed to one of bemused interest, as he watched her going about her duties, her eyes almost unfocused, and a healthy rose coloring to her face.
She looked. . .almost beautiful.
Wendy tried not to look at his arm, as she brought the harness. It felt to her as if she had somehow violated his privacy by dreaming of such a thing. Still though, even against her will, her gaze was drawn to it, and every time she saw it, she felt that little tickle of pleasure course through her.
She was also embarrassed about her kiss from the night before. She shouldn't have weakened like that. She could only hope now, that he would forget it, (which seemed unlikely) , or that she could find the strength to resist such impulses in the future, which seemed impossible.
She was concentrating so intently on what she would say and do from here on out, if there were any more
"situations". . .that she didn't notice his expression.
Finally he could tolerate her unusual silence no more.
" Are you well?' he asked,
She jumped a little, and laughed.
" What? Oh, yes. Yes of course."
" Nothing what-so-ever the matter with you?" he pressed. He sat, with his boots propped on the desk, watching her as she gathered the supplies she would need to shave him.
" No of course not." she assured him.
" Ah. And so, you merely are no longer interested in the fact that we are anchored in the harbor?" he asked.
Her eyes widened, and she ran to the porthole. They were in a small harbor. . .outside the ship lay the island! She could see people, and houses, and fishermen in little boats.
" You did not notice that the ship was no longer sailing?" he asked, in a tone of exaggerated surprise.
" Yes. . .I mean. . .no. I suppose not. " She did not want to discuss the subject of her preoccupation.
" I'm not sure that I want you near me with a razor today!" he scoffed.
" Oh, I am fine now. I suppose I was just. . .used to the feel of the ship. I hardly notice it anymore."
" Or much else, it seems. " he muttered. But he let her finish what she was doing.
She made herself concentrate. He had his eyes closed as she worked, but, unlike other times, she could sense he was tensed just slightly, no doubt he was worried she would nick him in her present state of oblivion. Another impulse struck her, and forgetting her earlier promise to herself. . .she acted on it.
She stepped back and gazed at him with a worried look. Then she bit her lip and turned her head from side to side.
He opened his eyes, frowning.
" What is it?" he demanded.
She fidgeted.
" Oh. . .it's nothing really. " she grimaced a little as she looked again.
This time, he looked worried.
" What have you done? " he demanded, reaching up a hand to feel of his face.
" Nothing. I mean...I ...I am sure something can be done." she said, trying to turn the smile, that was threatening to break free, into a frightened expression.
With a shaky hand he reached for the mirror. She held it out of reach a moment, then, like a naughty child that has broken something, she hung her head and held it out to him.
He took it, and after a look to her that said he would kill her if there was something dreadfully amiss, he looked down into the mirror.
His face went blank. He had no expression, that his face remembered, that was suitable for the moment. He merely gazed at the mirror.
Wendy began to worry that she had done something incredibly dangerous, and she began to inch toward the door.
Then she saw it.
Right there on the corner of his mouth.
A smile.
Just a twitch of one. Then it grew. . .
Indeed she had done nothing to him that was serious.
She had only left the lather over his moustache, so that it looked as though he had turned white. And somehow, with a light touch he had not felt, she had painted the white suds over his eyebrows too.
He realized that for the first time in his memory , he had just been the butt of a joke that was neither malicious nor dangerous.
For some reason, he felt the urge to laugh. . .So he laughed.
Seeing this, Wendy approached again, and handed him the towel. He took hold of her wrist, and pulled her down close.
" I do not like jokes, you know." he said, coolly.
" Then why did you laugh?" she asked. She was not afraid of him. That was the problem with her!
" I was merely expressing relief. I was certain you had done some sort of unthinkable butchery." he grumbled, releasing her.
" How vain, how vain." she said, shaking her head sadly.
" What did you say?" he demanded, catching hold of her again.
" I did not say a word. . ." she said, ignoring his grip, as she fiddled with the shaving supplies.
" You said several words. Out with them!"
" I said. . .how vain." she smiled.
" I am not vain." he glared,
" How untrusting then!" she said
He narrowed his eyes.
" Hmmm. . .I really do not trust you. Perhaps it would be better to leave you on board ship."
" Why?" Wendy cried. " It was but a joke! "
" You are still a very childish girl. I don't know that you deserve to be allowed to leave the ship."
" I am not childish!" she said, and stamped her foot. Immediately gri grinned again, and she flushed, realizing that she had just proven him true.
" I think we should call it a draw, my dear, what do you think?" he smirked.
" I think you are barbaric." she said, turning away.
" Barbaric? You started this. "
" Ha! Now who is sounding childish?" she taunted.
" Who is getting very close to being chained to this ship and never being allowed to leave? " he growled.
Wendy stopped smiling.
" There. That is better. Now, if you expect to accompany me anywhere, get yourself clean, have some of the men fill the tub if you like. Won't hurt them to work, for a change. I'll see that some suitable clothes are sent around to you." he waved her away.
She looked back over her shoulder once, as she opened the door, and saw that he was watching her leave with an intensity that was unsettling.
An hour later, she was soaking up to her ears in a deliciously hot bath. The pirates she had asked to heat and carry the water would probably never forgive her for what they saw as a waste of time and water.
It was worth it.
She had found soaps and colognes. . .which she was sure had not been there before. But of course, the tub had not been there before either.
After she was finished, and had wrapped in a great bath sheet, she realized that no one had as yet brought her any clothes before she had bathed.
Well. . .she thought, if someone does remember. . .I can't answer the door like this. She still had one of her plain dresses tucked in her carpet bag, and she was crossing the room to retrieve it when the door crashed open.
She screamed quite well, and seized the coverlet off her bed to hide behind.
Captain Hook leaned arrogantly in the doorway, smirking at her anger. He had a dress draped over one arm.
" So sorry, " he said in a way that said he was most certainly was not. " But I brought you some clothes. And. . .it looks as though you could use them." she felt his eyes taking in her bare shoulders.
"You could be a gentleman, and knock!" she said, not moving from her place.
" Oh, I am no gentleman!" he assured her." Are you going to take this dress?" he held it out, just out of reach.
" I can't. You just lay it there, and I'll put it on after you leave." she said.
" Am I going somewhere?" he teased, striding to the bed. With one foot, he pushed the door shut behind him.
" You are! You are going to wait outside! " she exclaimed, pulling the covers tighter around herself.
He said nothing, just approached, slowly, backing her up until her knees hit the edge of the bed.
" Captain Hook!" she cried as she fell backwards onto the mattress.
He leaned over her, his weight suddenly supported on his good hand.
" Call me James. You've already kissed me." he said, and he covered her mouth with his.
Somewhere beside her she vaguely heard the dress fall to the ground with a rustle.
This kiss was deep, and somewhat more erotic, with her half undressed form pressed to the bed by his.
She took away one hand and used it to push against him, but it only made the sheet fall lower down.
When he did release her mouth, she was panting a little.
" You. . .you shouldn't be here." she said.
Hadn't she said that to him before?
She was sure it sounded familiar.
Oh yes! From her dream! It had not made him leave.
It had as much effect in reality, his lips were already at her throat, his hand travelling the length of her body.
She began to truly resist then. Struggling to emerge from under his spell.
" You really shouldn't be here. . ." she said, louder. He raised his head and stared down into her .
He had a soft look there in his own eyes that she hadn't seen before.
" I cannot think of another place I need to be." he murmured, lowering his mouth again for a kiss.
Someone knocked rapidly on the door.
" Your boat's all ready Cap'n"! That someone called through the wood.
Wendy gave a little sound of surprise, as she wriggled out from underneath him. He collapsed face down on the bed with a groan.
" I have to get dressed, if you'll excuse me." she said. She was humiliated.
Did everyone on ship know he had been in her room while she was supposed to be dressing?
He looked up at her, the soft look was gone, replaced by the seductive and haughty look.
" After you say it. " he commanded.
" Say what?" she asked, bewildered.
" Call me by my name."
Wendy looked at him a moment, a little suspicious.
" James." she said at last.
He nodded. obviously pleased.
" Then, please excuse me, James, while I dress." she said.
He got to his feet, and with a dramatic flourish, he bowed.
"As you wish, my lady." he said, and with a grin, he left.
As soon as the door closed, she ran to it and locked it. She was beginning to see how he played. He had agreed to
leave. . .but he had not said he would not return. She was taking no chances.
After she was left in peace, she could dress quickly, and arrange her hair.
A few minutes later, she joined him on the deck. Down below was a small dinghy, elaborately carved, prepared to take them to the shore.
Two burly pirates were there to row it, and she saw that Smee was to accompany them also.
With a smile of contentment, she allowed the Captain to help her into the boat, and to seat her beside himself. When the men began rowing, she felt something bump against her hand. She looked down.
Very quietly, Hook had produced a parasol, from who only knows where, and slipped it into her hand.
He continued to look forward, as if uninterested in her, or her accessories, but he prodded her with it again, to get her to take it.
She did, and behaving as though she had always had the parasol on her person, she removed it from the fold of her skirt, and opened it.
With such a familiar tool in hand, she allowed herself a moment to glance up coquettishly at him from under her lashes, without anyone seeing it except him. Then she gave a small smile, and he inclined his head in a slight bow, before turning his gaze back to the rapidly approaching shore of the island.