The day wore on with increasing frustration that took a swing back toward dejection by evening. Amy found herself pressing her ear to the bulkhead again, but she couldn't hear anything, possibly because Warren also had his ear pressed to it this time and their breathing just didn't penetrate. She finally gave up

with a softly uttered "Warren."

He heard. His forehead dropped against the bulkhead. He gritted his teeth. He couldn't answer. It would be starting something he couldn't stop. She would expect to talk to him daily. Before long, she'd be back to making her sexual innuendos or worse, with a wall between them to hide her shame, and it would drive him out of his mind.

But that plaintive note in her voice was killing him. "Amy," he finally answered.

She'd already moved away from the bulkhead, so she didn't hear him.

347

Chapter 33

Two long, exasperating weeks passed for Amy, during which Warren still wouldn't communicate with her through the bulkhead that separated their cabins, nor would he agree to see her, even for a few minutes. She'd been given a change of clothes to alternate with her dress, a black wraparound tunic and trousers exactly like Taishi's that fit her too well, delineating nearly every curve in her body. But only Taishi saw her in them, and he wasn't interested in her that way, so it didn't matter. She'd got a comb, too, though she'd stopped trying to arrange her hair without a mirror, leaving it loose for the most part, and braided otherwise.

Last week she'd been given two extra buckets of water to wash herself and her clothes in. She was due for another bath today. And she got let out on the deck once every other day for no more than an hour.

For that she wore her aqua-hued gown, with her spencer fastened up to the neck. But no one paid her much attention. Half the crew was Chinese, and she'd found that they considered her ugly with her round eyes, though they did admire her thick length of black hair. The other half of the crew was Portuguese, as was the captain, as was the ship, and they spoke not a word of English.

She'd seen Warren's ship, the Nereus, the last time he was in London, the day he'd departed all those months ago. This one wasn't nearly so grand, but she enjoyed her brief outings, looked forward to them, not for the fresh air, but for the hope each time that she'd see Warren somewhere on the deck. She never did, of course. He would have arranged with his good friend Taishi to be told exactly when she was allowed outside, so he could make sure he stayed in his cabin each of those times.

Actually, she got everything she'd asked for, except the one thing she wanted most, and it looked like she wasn't going to get that, no matter what. Warren obviously intended to avoid her all the way to America, hand over that vase to gain their release, then stick her on the first ship back to England, alone.

It was a safe plan for him, a plan that would keep him and his miserable life just as they were, and Amy

still couldn't think of any way to change that plan, except outright sexy talk that might get him to tear the partition down. But she

wasn't experienced enough to pull that off, and 349 didn't feel like making a fool of herself trying, especially through a bloody wall.

As for that wall, her ear was going to be permanently flattened, she listened at it so often. Warren was learning to fight in that funny way Taishi did. He was taking a lot of punishment in the process, but she had a feeling he was enjoying every moment of it, while she gasped and gritted her teeth over each one of his groans.

Today she got her out-of-cabin outing, as well as a bath. She should have been pleased, or at least somewhat content, under the circumstances. But just as she'd witnessed the storm clouds brewing on the horizon, she had a storm brewing inside her, one that wouldn't be calmed this time.

She'd been a model hostage lately, giving Taishi no reason for complaint. But it was not in her nature to simply endure and do nothing. Only there was nothing she could do, her options were all played out, and that realization, nagging her more than once today, sparked the Malory temper.

She was angry at Taishi for not taking her seriously, at Warren for his stubbornness and continued silence, at Zhang for dragging her into this mess

when he could just as easily have left her behind once he had Warren. And she was through being quiet about it, through merely accepting Warren's silence and Zhang's arbitrary control over her.

Taishi found that out when he brought her meal that evening. The moment he opened the door, she snatched the bowl of food from him, scooped up a glob of the rice with two fingers, and held it before her mouth.

"I'm not starving, you dolt," she said in response to his wide-eyed expression. "But I've found my weapon."

"You going to throw food at me?"

She almost did for that brilliant deduction. Taishi had a very keen sense of humor that wasn't always clear; more often than not, it could be interpreted as plain stupidity. Amy was beginning to suspect he pretended ignorance just to get a rise out of her, which usually was the case, and today was no exception.

"I'm tempted, no doubt about it," she said, keeping her voice down with an effort. She did not want

Warren to hear what she was up to, not that he'd be listening at the wall, but she wasn't taking any chances. "But since this might be my

last meal, I'll pass this time." 351

That got him frowning. "Taishi no would starve you, missee."

"You will if Zhang orders it, won't you? And don't bother to deny it. He probably will order it as soon as he hears what I can do with a little food."

"You no makee sense."

"I'm about to, so pay attention. You're going to tell your lord that if I am not allowed to see Captain Anderson immediately, I will choke on my food and die. Then what incentive will he use against Warren to get his bloody vase back?"

Taishi braised a beseeching hand. "Wait, missee! Taishi find out. Be back lickety-split."

Amy stared at the closed door in amazement. Had it actually worked? The little fellow took her seriously for once? But she hadn't counted on that. And if Zhang took her seriously, too, and gave her what she wanted ... She wasn't prepared! She hadn't combed her hair, she wasn't wearing her seductive gown, and, dammit, she was hungry.

Amy wolfed down half the food and then dashed

for her comb. It was a good thing she rushed, because Taishi didn't take his little dilemma to Zhang, who was having his own dinner and was never, ever disturbed when he was eating.

Taishi went no farther than next door to ask Warren, "Is it possible to choke on food by accident?"

Warren was sitting against the bulkhead, finishing his own meal. "You mean deliberately?"

"Yes."

"I suppose it's possible if you try to breathe your food in, but I don't mean to try it, if that's what has brought you back."

Taishi didn't answer, just closed the dooragain. His orders were to keep both prisoners happy for the duration of the trip, to do whatever was possible to assure that. Moving the woman from one cabin to the next was certainly possible. And it was Taishi's opinion that the American might object at first, but not for long. If he was wrong, he'd have to suffer one furious American on his hands for a while.

He could confirm the wisdom of it later with Li Liang, but for now ...

When the door opened again, Warren glanced up,

then went perfectly still as Amy was pushed 353 into the cabin and the door slammed shut behind her.

Christ, it was worse than he had imagined it would be. His body came alive instantly at the sight of her in that body-molding black tunic and trousers, her feet bare and her hair cascading in splendid disarray. He didn't think he'd ever seen anything as beautiful, and desirable--and he couldn't have her. He couldn't have her. It was worth crying over. It was worth killing over. And Taishi was the one Warren was going to kill for putting this kind of temptation in his path.

She didn't say anything, but she didn't look wary or coy--when had she ever? She was eating him up with those deep blue eyes, in fact, making him realize that he wasn't wearing anything except the extra pair of trousers that had been found for him. They had been so short and tight around his calves that he'd cut them off above the knees. But he hadn't felt na**d in them until this moment.

The silence stretched between him and Amy. Warren was sure his voice wasn't going to come out in anything but a croak, but he finally tried. Not a croak. More a snarl, considering the first question that came to mind.

"What'd you bribe him with? Never mind, you've only got one thing to use, and I'm looking at it."

"That was supposed to be crude, wasn't it?" she replied with her usual undaunted perkiness. "Not bad, but unnecessary. You must have forgotten how hard it is to offend me, since I know why you try.

Actually, it was the threat of choking that did it."

"Did what?" Warren came up off the mattress he'd been sitting on to glare at her. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I told Taishi I'd choke on my food if I didn't get invited over here. He's not usually so gullible. I wonder why he believed it."

Blast that little Chinaman for not explaining what that choking business was about! Warren should have added that if you tried choking deliberately, you'd likely do no more than bring on a fit of coughing.

"Get the hell out of here, Amy."

"I can't," she replied, and she looked delighted to be able to say so. "Taishi's not that negligent. Didn't you hear the lock turn in

the door?" 355

He hadn't, but he didn't doubt that it was locked. So how long was he going to be put through this hell before she was taken back to her room? Five seconds more would be too long.

"Aren't you going to invite me to sit down?" she asked next.

On his bed, which was the only thing available? She was pushing it, she really was, and probably didn't care, probably was doing it deliberately.

"The object here is for us to talk," she said when all he did was glare at her. "Did you think I'd come for something else?"

Oh, God, the innuendos again. He couldn't take them now, not with her standing there looking so delicious, with his body hard and ready to take what she'd thrown his way so many times before. What the hell did she think he was made of?

Amy could see what he was made of quite clearly, strong muscle and sinew and a body that wouldn't quit. He dominated the small cabin with his size, overwhelmed it--and her. She wanted so badly to touch all that visible skin, to taste it, to run to him, hold him, and never let go. She didn't move. He was utterly furious at her intrusion, giving her little doubt that he'd thrust her away if she were bold enough to do as she wanted. For once, she wasn't.

"You have to talk to me, Warren." A note of desperation entered her voice. "If you weren't so stubborn, if you'd bothered to say something to me, anything, that time I asked you to, I probably wouldn't be here now."

"What are you talking about?"

She had given in earlier in the week and tried talking to him, practically begging him to answer her. She didn't know he hadn't heard her, that it was the day Zhang had decided to amuse himself by taking an

interest in Warren's exercise. Taishi was good, an expert at defense, which was why he'd been chosen to be their guard and caretaker. His attack skills were only mediocre, however.

But Zhang's personal bodyguards were in another league entirely, expert in both defense and attack, and Zhang had decided it would be entertaining to watch one of them put Warren through his paces. He still had the bruises and aches testifying to how unpleasant that had been.

Amazingly, he didn't feel a one 357 right now.

"When I banged on your wall a few days ago--was

"I wasn't here to hear you, Amy."

"You weren't?" Having made an utter fool of herself that night, she was delighted to know that only she was aware of it. "Well, it doesn't matter now. I'm glad, in fact, that because of your silence I finally lost my temper. This is much better than talking through the wall."

"The hell it is. Amy, I want you to turn around and pound on that door and get yourself out of here.

Now!"

"But I just got here--was

"Amy," he cut in warningly.

"And we haven't talked yet--was

"Amy!"

"No!"

The word fell between them like a gauntlet, a dare for him to make her obey him--if he could. It was the wrong time for Amy's boldness to reassert itself.

Chapter 34

Warren started toward Amy with every intention of turning her over his knee. She saw it in his eyes, in his furious expression, but she didn't try to run. The cabin was too small for that to do any good

anyway--but she didn't try to talk him out of it either. She stood her ground, taking a chance, a very big chance, that he wouldn't do it.

What happened was very similar to an attack, however, though it was one Amy welcomed. One touch and Warren was drawing her into his arms instead of beating her, but she was going to come out bruised in the end, he was holding her so tight. And his mouth, good God, he was starving, out of control. She should have been afraid. This was more passion than she'd bargained for, more than she was capable of handling. Yet she wouldn't have stopped him for the world.

Twice he pushed her away, his expression still angry, yet with elements of indecision, of pain, but mostly of passion. Amy was filled with dismay each time, and anger, too, that he was continuing to fight what she considered inevitable. But then he'd groan and draw her back, his mouth just as voracious, and she'd rejoice. Finally, after so long