15 15. He Was Her Captor.

Egil entered the room a few hours later. The sight that met his eyes once he did, was breathtaking. It was so surreal in its beauty he was almost convinced he was dreaming. Katelyn lay on his bed fast asleep, her soft locks spilled out over the cotton pillow case like a sheen of gold. Her arms wrapped around the pillow, clinging to it as though her life depended on it.

The evening light spilled in through the porthole of his room casting an otherworldly glow on her features making her look ethereal. The light of the moon playing off her complexion almost causing it glow. It was like she was a ghost or some form of apparition. For a moment he started to doubt her existence. That is until he noticed he noticed the puffiness beneath her eyes. She had been crying again it seemed.

Egil couldn't stop the faint twinge of guilt he felt at the sight of her swollen eyes. He consoled himself that it was temporary. In time, he would make her feel so many things that her tears would become a thing of the past. Sooner or later, she would realize that tears did you no good in this life, especially when out at sea.

Standing over the bed he leaned down the brush the hair from her eyes. Her soft skin was rosey with the glow of sleep and for a few moments he was mesmerized. It wasn't until he was standing with their lips a few inches apart that he returned to his senses. He was close enough now though he could smell the fragrance of her hair and feel her breath against his lips. She was defenseless and completely unaware of the danger which stood poised above her. In that moment he wanted her more than anything he had ever wanted before.

A sigh arose from her lips as she slept, her lashes fluttering against her cheek, and he felt a faint stab of what could almost be remorse as he rose from where he stood. Bringing a chair to the wall he leaned it back, his feet resting on the table he fell asleep moments later with visions of an angel reflecting in his eyes.

Katelyn stirred in his sleep as he sat down. Whether it was some internal instinct or intuition she wasn't sure. Her eyes opened to gaze at the unfamiliar ceiling of the captains cabin blankly. Snippets of the evening coming back to her as she woke. After several moments of tossing and turning she rolled over to the see him, asleep in the chair. In spite of herself, her heart broke for him.

She was in his room for her own protection, at least that was the pretense. And here she was, asleep peacefully on his bed while he was made to sleep in a chair. It would only be human of her to feel guilty toward him. The problem was, this man was completely undeserving of her sympathy. What right did she have to feel anything for him other than contempt.

Katelyn it bit her lip as her emotions warred with one another. She was only human after all. And she was nowhere near as caloused as Egil was. How could she be? As sheltered as she had been she had no idea that such cruelties existed. At least not until she had started life here on the ship.

Silently she swallowed back those remaining feelings of humanity and shut her eyes tightly and forced herself back to the sleep.

The following morning when Katelyn awoke it was as if she had dreamt his existence in the room. The chair was put neatly against the table. The only sign anyone other than her had been in the room was the food that sat waiting for her on the table. Katelyn sat in quietly while she ate her meal, deep in thought.

Unable to find her equilibrium she gave up with a sigh and head to do her chores. At least with her hands busy, she wouldn't have time to think.

Time seemed to pass slowly as she sat in the scullery peeling potatoes for the evening meal. It seemed no matter how intent she was on her task it couldn't keep her thoughts from straying. What was he doing now, she wondered. Had he slept? Was he sore? She dug the knife harder into the potato skin almost though she could cut away her sympathy as she took the flesh from potato.

"Ouch" she cried out, having pushed the knife too far into her skin. She was frantically looking around the kitchen looking for something to wrap it or clean it with when a pair of warm hands took hers from behind.

"You're bleeding. Did no one teach you how to use a knife properly?" The words were meant to intentionally provoke her, and again, that cold attitude wouldn't her heart for reasons she couldn't say.

Egil brought wiped the blood from her injury before bringing it to his lips to kiss it better, only, it wasn't a kiss. Taking her completely by surprise he inserted her finger into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around it leisurely.

Katelyns face turned several different hues of red. She wanted to protest but for whatever reason was held mesmerized by his gaze and her heart began to race. Any thoughts of rebuking him for his sarcasm had long since left.

Egil watched as the warring emotions danced across her eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he let her hand fall to her side.

"You need to be more careful" he cautioned. "It wouldn't do for you to get an infection."

Katelyn nodded her head numble. Her eyes focussed steadfastly on his mouth.

Egil wasn't blind. Nor was he a fool. He noted the gaze of her eyes and bravely, hazarded a step forward. She was like a timid rabbit. Wild yet pleading for his attention with her eyes. If he moved too quickly he would break the spell he had created.

Through the roaring in her ears Katelyn lost all sense of awareness. The sounds of the ship faded into the distance as Egil had her gaze. She was riveted in place, so focussed on his eyes she didn't see or notice his hand as it reached up to caress her cheek.

It had been far too long since someone, anyone had touched with such gentleness. It was instinct which lead her to lean foolishly into the hand which brushed along her cheek. She closed her eyes at its warmth and breathed deeply.

For a moment, and only for a moment she had managed to forget. She was a captive. And He, her captor.

Egil took the chance, his thumb brushed along her bottom lip gently. He so desperately wanted to lean down and press his lips to hers. To just take her into his arms and press her body, in all its softness against him, and just claim her the way he would any woman.

It was frustrating for him, that he had to work so hard to tame this kitten of his. He watched intently as she closed her eyes, and waited. Slowly, he counted to five. And much as he didn't want to, as much as his mind and body were screaming at him to make his move - he dropped his hand...

And walked away…

As Egil left the room, Katelyn broke. She had been fighting so hard to remain distant. She tried so hard to build a wall and keep it safely around her heart. But every moment she made was countered skillfully by this man who in a moment could render her speechless.

The loss of the warmth of his touch was jarring. The abruptness of his retreat shocked her out of daze so harshly that immediately she felt a lump begin to form in the back her throat. He might as well have struck her, she was in so much pain from his treatment.

Tears begin to spill down her cheek as she watched him walk away. How many times had she watched that back in anger and frustration. The tears just wouldn't stop falling. Her pride wouldn't allow her to chase him, but her treacherous heart was yearning for him.

In a moment of impassioned frustration Katelyn threw the contents of the table to the floor.

In the meantime, Egil stood silently out the door. Chuckling to himself at chaos he had created within. It hadn't been his intention to hurt her but her tears were proof of her struggle. He contented himself that the struggle was the start of her waking desire. After all, if she had no desire for him there were would be no need for her struggle.

Idly, he looked at his hand. The memory of her leaning into his touch coming to his mind as he continued to smile. It wasn't enough. She needed to want him, more than anything else.