Princess of Ice Read online

Page 5

They sat together in the private booth. It was not completely closed off from the rest of the club’s VIP area, but a beaded curtain over the only exit gave a sense of privacy to the small room. The dark-haired woman glanced up apprehensively whenever someone walked by the curtain, almost as if she was expecting to be attacked at any moment. The tall redhead that Trevain had noticed earlier was lingering not far away.

  Trevain was wondering why he had thought to purchase private dances. He had not asked a girl to dance for him in close to thirty years. The initial experience had been a rather boring and expensive one that he had chosen not to repeat. Now, he knew that he would have done just about anything to secure a few more moments of being close to the woman called Undina. Yet another one of his relationships was now dependent on money, but he was more comfortable that way. Trevain felt it was worth having the security that she would not leave—he gained something from their interaction that he could not place a price tag upon. He just needed to sit with her and witness her being. The reassurance of her existence somehow swelled his courage.

  “Would you like me to begin?” she asked softly. The section of the club that they had moved to was much quieter, and Trevain could hear every nuance of her enigmatic accent.  He could have sworn that he had heard similar pronunciation before, although he could not determine where. It did not sound Canadian.

  “You don’t have to actually dance for me,” he said, lifting his hands as he explained. “I would prefer if we just talked. Is that okay with you?”

  There was skepticism in her shadowy eyes. “I would love that, but I should probably return to work.” She glanced up at the curtain, as if considering leaving. There was a look of purpose on her face.

  Trevain reached into his jacket for his wallet. Unfolding the creased leather with his work-roughened fingers, the captain deftly counted out some bills and extracted them. He handed them over to her with a smile. “A thousand dollars for the pleasure of your company. A thousand dollars if you’ll sit with me and tell me about yourself and your life until the end of the night.”

  She stared at the money, and then back at his face hesitantly. “Trevain, I am not sure…”

  “Please,” he said, grasping her hand and pushing the folded bills against her palm. He closed her fingers around the bills and held her small hand in his larger ones. “I don’t get a chance to talk to someone with a brain very often. You’ve seen the morons I work with! I feel like a good conversation with you could be really rejuvenating.”

  She smiled at him weakly, and gave him a gentle nod. “Thank you,” she whispered, “this is so kind of you.”

  “Nonsense,” he said, gesturing back to the main area of the club where his brother was being taken care of by the other deplorably drunk sailors, “Callder boasted about my finances enough for you to know that I am quite comfortable. These aren’t my last pennies, dear. I want to know more about you.”

  As he spoke, she observed a twinkle of mirth in his eye. It pleased her enough to feel comfortable in accepting his gift and opening up to him.

  “I will tell you as much as I can,” she conceded, graciously tucking the money into her purse. She glanced up through the beaded curtain where a swift flash of wild red hair was visible. She turned back to Trevain, and seemed to force herself to relax, making an effort to smile. “I must admit that I am not sure why you are so curious about me. Your life must be far more interesting than mine.”

  “I would like to know why a talented young woman like you is dancing in a strip club in Soldotna.”

  She flinched, but instantly recovered herself and nodded. “For the most part, I am here to learn about people and the world. I have lived an unusually restricted life, caged up for far too long.”

  Trevain mused over her words. He stared down at her long, slender fingers which rested lightly on her thigh. While he wanted to learn about her, he did not want to press too far or make her uncomfortable. He decided to prompt her with an open ended and vague question. “Caged?”

  “Yes.” The woman called Undina looked up at him with a guarded expression on her face. She could see that he wanted to know more, and she did not want to disappoint him. She struggled to speak the difficult words.  “He kept me imprisoned for a very long time, along with my two sisters.  I had no connection to the outside world for many years, and I lost track of time.”

  “Your father?” he inquired, prompting her again.

  “Yes.” She lifted her hand to her neck, rubbing her throat nervously. “My father was the sort of man who made fairytale villains look like gentlemen. Very powerful and very overprotective. He was a man of the sea, much like you are… but he was not kind. He was commanding and everything had to go his way. I have been well educated and have many skills, but until recently, I have had zero practical application for them.” Her expression darkened and her tone grew harsh. “If my father was successful, I would never have seen any portion of the world again. I would never have felt the midnight sun tanning my skin.”

  “So this is an act of rebellion against him?”

  She grimaced. “No. No. My father is dead now. This is my first very small, rather silly act of freedom.”

  The captain shook his head, beginning to understand. “I’m sorry for your loss. My dad died when I was very young too.”

  “How old were you?” she asked him gently.

  “Seventeen. My father was the captain of the original Fishin’ Magician. When he was killed in a senseless accident, I took over. I vowed I would never let another sailor die on my boat.” Trevain gritted his teeth. “And I didn’t… until two days ago.”

  She placed her palm against his cheek. “Do not blame yourself. The sea takes lives callously.”

  He seemed surprised by the touch of her soft hand against his face. He immediately felt self-conscious and wondered when last he had shaved his face. He was sure that his stubble felt rough and prickly against her delicate skin. He cleared his throat, in discomfort at her attentive affection. He did not know how to respond. “Anyway, my dad died a very long time ago,” Trevain said. “Your loss is much fresher, and I should be comforting you, not the other way around!”

  “No,” she responded, withdrawing her hand and clenching it into a small fist. She shook her head fiercely. “It sounds like your father was a good man that you regretted losing. I cannot say the same for mine. What about your mother—is she well?”

  Trevain stiffened slightly and stared at the pattern on the tacky wallpaper before giving a small shrug. “I hardly know, to be honest. She was committed to a psychiatric hospital when I was twelve. I used to visit her frequently, but as I grew older and her health deteriorated, I began to visit less and less. It’s hard to see her falling apart the way she is.”

  “My sympathies are with you,” the woman said in a low and gentle tone. Her voice sounded like it was made of wind. “Your youth must have been difficult.”

  “It was harder on Callder than it was for me,” Trevain said, gesturing to the main area of the club. “That’s why he is the way he is. I couldn’t take care of him as well as our parents would have been able to.”

  She smiled. “I think you did a great job. Forgive me if this is too familiar; I hardly know you, but I believe Callder could not have asked for a kinder or more capable big brother.”

  The compliment moved him. He felt suddenly embarrassed to be revealing so much of his life, and he felt the need to distract himself. She was sitting very near to him, and he felt the desire to touch her dark hair. Pretending to have an excuse, he gently reached out to tuck a few strands behind her ear. He marveled at the silken texture; even her hair seemed too velvety and luminous to be real. Of course, he had not touched a woman’s hair in as long as he could remember, so perhaps there was nothing special about the texture. She seemed surprised at the boldness of his touch, but not offended. As his fingers brushed her ear, he felt himself swallow.

  “Undina,” said the captain quietly, “I also hardly know you, but I
think there are much better things that you can do with your newfound freedom than this.”

  She bit her lip and gave him a hard look before responding. “I have two younger sisters who are now under my care. I am sure you understand this. I want to do the very best I possibly can for them, and I want to be able to keep them safe from future harm.”

  “I’m sorry,” Trevain said. His fingers ached to reach out and touch her again, but he could not find a good excuse. He did not want her to be upset with him. “I don’t know your situation.”

  She nodded in acknowledgement, giving him a small smile. “There are many positive aspects to this job. I have to look at it that way. It is a way to learn about the world. It is a way to meet interesting men like yourself, and a way to interact with other human beings. It may not be the best way, but I am just grateful to be free to make my own choices and live my life… even if I choose poorly.”

  “I understand,” Trevain answered thoughtfully. He surrendered to the urge to touch her shoulder. Resting his elbow on the back of the sat behind them, he brushed his thumb lightly over her collarbone. Her skin was so thin there; as thin as silk or gauze.

  “The world is so large,” she murmured, enjoying his caress. “There is so much land, so much sea. I have been yearning to experience life for the longest time.”

  “Life is a good thing,” he answered. As he gazed down at her half-lidded eyes and somehow melancholy smile, Trevain was overcome with the urge to kiss her. His self-control was weakened by the moisture of brandy and beer, and his torso seemed to be inching forward without his permission. He was a few inches away from her lips when he was suddenly distracted by movement on the other side of the beaded curtain. A redhead’s piercing green eyes sent him a wary look of appraisal. He was startled by the distrustful look in that fierce face. The fiery glare quickly disappeared, but not before it had instantly reacquainted him with reality. The redhead’s eyes had a strange quality about them, gleaming almost in the way a cat’s eyes did in the dark.

  He pulled away from the girl that he had been intending to kiss a moment before. Trevain inwardly cursed himself. Undina’s manner of speech had made him feel more comfortable with her than he could have imagined. He had forgotten to remind himself of how young she was, and what a lecher he would be if he made any sort of advance on her. Although he did not feel much older than she was, and he did not feel like she was mentally or physically juvenile in any way, he had to remind himself of his age. He chastised himself for nearly crossing his personal boundaries of courteous conduct.

  “That redhead; she’s a friend of yours?” Trevain asked, clearing his throat. “It looks like she doesn’t trust me.”

  Undina’s eyes shot wide open in surprise. She squinted out of the small room before releasing a tiny burst of laughter. “Yes, she’s just paranoid about everything. She likes to keep aware of her surroundings.”

  Trevain had never heard her laugh before, and it was just as powerful and pure as her dance. She threw her head back slightly, and opened her lips, and let the laughter bubble up from deep within her. It stirred him. What he would not give to see her laugh like that more often! He decided then that he would find a way to hear that laughter again.

  “Where are you and your sisters staying?” he asked. “Do you have friends or relatives in Soldotna?”

  “No. I am renting us a room in a nearby motel. Not the best accommodations, but we are grateful. It is so good to be far away from home; away from all the depressing memories…”

  “How old are your sisters?” Trevain asked.

  She hesitated. “Elandria is only slightly younger than I am, although she is far more mature. Corallyn is… much younger. She is just a child.”

  He wondered why she was not giving specific ages. He did not care. “Undina, forgive me if this is too bold and presumptuous…” Trevain tried to stop himself from saying the words as they spilled forth. Was this the brandy talking? What was he thinking? “I feel strangely connected to you because of what you’re going through. I know how hard it was to raise Callder when I was just a kid myself. I can help, if you’d let me.”

  “How?” she asked.

  “You’re going to think I’m crazy,” he said. In fact, he already considered himself crazy for what he was about to suggest. But he wanted it to happen. He wanted it more than anything, and knew he would continue to want it even after the brandy had been purged from his system. “I would like to offer you to stay in my home, and you can bring your sisters along. I have a massive house, with far more room than Callder and I have any clue what to do with. We’re gone out to sea for several days at a time anyway, and the place is cold and empty. I have many spare bedrooms, and I can offer you one for each of your sisters…"

  Some of the shadows had retreated from her eyes, replaced by the light of curiosity. “Are you serious?”

  “Sure. We have an old friend of the family who helps out around the house and does all the cooking and cleaning. You girls wouldn’t have any responsibilities, and you could focus on your education. You wouldn’t have to work in this place.”

  “Trevain, do you really mean it?” The dark haired woman had clasped her hands together in surprise.

  “Of course,” he answered, swallowing and desperately hoping that she would agree. “I understand if you find it difficult to trust me. I promise, I’m not asking you for anything in return. I just want to see you settled, comfortable, and happy. Living out of a motel is not the best arrangement for young ladies. I can offer you access to all the money you could possibly need, meals, clothing, books, computers, tutors…”

  “Trevain,” she said quietly. She contemplated him for what felt like a very long time. He fought the urge to shift in discomfort, remaining motionless as she studied his face meticulously. The young woman’s dark eyes bored into him; he tried to imagine what was racing through her mind. When she spoke, her voice was choppy and wavering. “How is it possible you can be so kind? To a complete stranger you have only just met? I could be… I could be a murderer. I could be… some kind of inhuman beast.”

  It was Trevain’s turn to throw his head back and laugh. “I highly doubt that you’re a bloodsucking vampire.”

  Mirth danced in her mysterious black eyes. “I could be something far worse.”

  When his laughter finally dissolved, Trevain ran a hand through his grey hair sheepishly. The motion of laughing had felt so good in his chest that it had been difficult to stop. The merriment was therapeutic, mending all the brokenness his insides had accumulated. Even deeper than that, the rusted gears turning in his mind felt like they had been newly oiled. It was her company that had this effect on him, he knew.

  Trevain suddenly felt like he was sitting with an old friend. He smiled and spoke with greater confidence. “You don’t belong in a place like this, compromising yourself to make ends meet. The kind of life you should experience, now that you’re seeking to experience life, is one in which you will enjoy every single moment—one where you can trust that your sisters will be provided for and happy, and that they won’t turn out like my nutcase of a brother.”

  His comfortable new manner was infectious. The rigidity of her limbs had released along with the tension around her lips and eyes. She gave him a look of sincere gratitude, and placed her fingertips lightly on his forearm. Feeling emboldened, she squeezed his arm affectionately. “Will you let me talk it over with my sisters tonight and see what they think? I do not want to force them; we have just been liberated from living under tyrannical male authority. They may not like the idea that it could happen again.”

  Trevain shook his head emphatically. “I promise that it won’t be like that.”

  Her obscure eyes moved toward the beaded curtain, evidently searching for her red-haired friend. She took a moment before she spoke. “If we become dependent on you, we will owe you everything. Our freedom will be yours. But I have seen that you are beloved among your crew; they adore you and your guidance, so I ha
ve no reason to imagine that you would not be caring of us as well.”

  “Those are my employees,” he explained, “but they are my only friends. They’re the closest thing I have to family, but they pop in and out of my life when their need for my money expires. Do you see that young man over there, Arnav? We’ve been working together every single day, and he feels like a son to me. He’s a college student who’s going to head home as soon as soon as the season’s over, and I’ll probably never see him again.” The grey-haired man paused as premature nostalgia painted his face. “So you see, if you and your sisters want to move on at any point, I won’t have an issue with that. I’m used to it, and I just want to know that I made a positive impact while I could, however brief that may be.”

  Trevain saw that she was staring at him with a peculiar and unreadable expression. Was it wonder? Approval? Well-concealed contempt? Feeling suddenly exposed, he cleared his throat gruffly. “At any rate, if you choose to grace my home with your presence you will always be considered a welcome guest. I’m not a tyrant, and never will be. If Callder ever bothers you, I’ll smack him upside the head—but he’s a harmless lout, even when drunk. No one will ever tell you what to do—you would choose your every action as you see fit. Go where you want, do as you please. You would be safe. I promise you this, Undina.”

  “Well, then. I cannot listen to you calling me that anymore,” she said softly. She glanced furtively toward the curtain before leaning close to him and putting her lips near his ear. “Please allow me to tell you my real name…”

   

   

  Chapter 5: A Good Man