Page 11 of Prince Charming
She found herself wishing he would turn around. Lucas didnât accommodate her. He buttoned up his pants and walked over to the side of the bed. His chest was covered with a thick mat of dark hair. It tapered to a vee at his waist.
The ship suddenly lurched again. Taylor was so mesmerized by the sight of her husband, she forgot to brace herself. She went flying. He caught her in his arms just as she was about to be pitched to the floor.
Her reaction surprised him. She laughed. He hoped to God she wasnât getting hysterical on him.
âWhatâs so amusing?â
She shrugged. His skin was warm to her touch. She noticed that when she wrapped her arms around his neck. The ship rocked again. It was an excuse she had been waiting for. She put her head on his shoulder and held tight.
âYou arenât going to go back up on deck, are you? Youâll only get wet again.â
âIâm not going back up on deck.â
She didnât loosen her hold. She wasnât about to let him get away. Being alone was too frightening. Lucas had become her safe haven against the storm.
âYou canât sleep on the floor,â she blurted out. âThe trunks will drive you to distraction, flying about the way they are.â
âWhat do you suggest?â
âYouâll have to sleep with me.â
He almost dropped her. She leaned back and looked up at him. Damn but she had the prettiest eyes heâd ever seen. And mouth. A man could get lost staring into those blue eyes and thinking about what he would want her to do to him with those sweet sexy lips.
âIâll sleep under the covers and you may sleep on top,â she rushed out. The look on his face confused her. She didnât want him to think she was being brazen, just practical.
âItâs a sound solution,â she announced with a nod. âAnd very civilized.â
He tossed her into the middle of the bed. Taylor realized her nightgown was bunched up around her knees. She hurried to straighten her gown and get under the sheets. While he stood there watching her with his hands on his hips and a strange, indefinable look on his face, she squeezed herself up against the wall, fluffed her pillow behind her head, and closed her eyes.
Lucas was too tired to figure out why Taylor wasnât acting frightened by him any longer. He fully intended to take advantage of his temporary good fortune. He would get into bed before she changed her mind. He went over to the lantern, turned the flame down, shoved a trunk out of his path, and then walked back over to the bed.
She tried to stay on her side, but the rocking of the ship made that extremely difficult. She didnât have enough bulk to keep her still or an anchor to hold onto, and Lucas had only just stretched out on his back when he found her plastered up against his left side. She apologized profusely, then scooted back to the wall.
She kept coming back. Each time the ship rocked she slammed into his side. He suspected sheâd be black and blue by morning. Each time she hit him, she groaned. The moans soon became a prelude to her pleas for forgiveness.
It was like sleeping with a fish. Lucasâs patience was quickly worn out. He rolled to his side, threw his arm around her waist and his thigh over her legs, and pulled her up close to him.
She didnât protest. She was, in fact, thankful for the anchor. She reached up to nudge his head out of her way, then lifted her hair back from where heâd trapped it with his shoulder. She pushed the thick curls to the other side of her neck. She should have braided her hair before going to bed, she supposed, but it had seemed silly to do such an ordinary chore when death was behind the next wave. As soon as the storm had begun, sheâd hurried down to Victoriaâs cabin to make certain she was all right, and by the time sheâd made it back to her own room, she could barely walk a straight line.
Everything was going to be all right. Taylor let out a loud yawn. Odd, but she wasnât at all afraid now. The warmth from her husbandâs body soothed her, and it only took a few minutes for her to completely relax.
âMr. Ross?â
He didnât answer her. âLucas?â
âYes?â
He sounded surly. She pretended not to notice. âAre you sleepy?â
âYes.â
She folded her arms across her chest, being careful not to touch his arm.
âIsnât it odd neither one of us has become seasick?â
âGo to sleep, Taylor.â
A full minute passed before she spoke again. Lucas thought she was going to cooperate. He was wrong. âIâm very weary,â she whispered. âBut not at all sleepy. Isnât that odd?â
He didnât answer her. âPerhaps, if you talked to me, I might become sleepy.â
âWhy would my talking make you sleepy?â
âYou might be boring.â
He grinned. She said the damnedest things. âFine, Iâll talk you to sleep. Do you have any particular topic in mind?â
âTell me about Redemption.â
He was surprised she remembered the name of his town. He couldnât imagine why she would be interested enough to hear anything more about the desolate place.
âI already told you all about Redemption. Youâd hate it. Why donât you think about all the parties youâll attend in Boston. That should put you to sleep. God knows it would me.â
Parties were the last thing she wanted to think about. She hated formal affairs, and the thought that she would never again have to attend an artificial gathering filled with pompous, self-opinionated bigots made her smile. She knew Lucas believed she wanted to be part of Bostonâs society, and she saw no reason to dissuade him. She supposed most young ladies would like all the frivolity. She wasnât like most, however. Maybe she really was almost as peculiar as her great-uncle Andrew, as Madam had proclaimed on more than one occasion.
âYou donât hate Redemption, do you?â
âIâm starting to,â he answered with a yawn. âItâs already getting crowded and growing every day. Iâll be glad to leave.â
âLeave? Why would you leave?â
âI donât like crowds.â
âArenât your brothers there?â
âThe ranch is a dayâs ride away from the town.â
âWell then?â
He let out a loud sigh. She really wasnât going to stop nagging him until she had her answers. Lucas gritted his teeth in frustration. She poked him in the shoulder. âDo you actually plan to abandon your brothers?â
âJordan and Douglas have enough cattle and horses now. They donât need me any longer. Iâll help Kelsey, the youngest, get settled, then Iâll leave. Theyâll do just fine.â
She believed his attitude was callous and cold, but she kept her opinion to herself. She didnât want to alienate him. Besides, she wanted answers, not an argument.
âWhere will you go?â she asked.
âHunting.â
âHunting for what?â she asked.
âA man.â
She hadnât expected that answer. She thought he would tell her he wanted to hunt for gold or silver. Even though the rush was officially over, sheâd read there were still reports of veins located further west. But hunting for a man?
âAnd when you find him?â
Lucas didnât answer her for a long while. He wasnât about to tell her the truth, that he had every intention of killing the bastard. He didnât think her delicate nature could handle knowing exactly what was on his mind, and so he simply said, âIâm going to finish what he started.â
âIs he an evil man?â
âYes.â
She thought about that for several minutes. The differences between the two of them were startlingly clear to her. She was running away from evil; Lucas was going to confront it. Was he a man of courage or was he letting vengeance rule his life?
She decided to find out. âWas he . . .â
He cut her off. âWhen Iâm finished, Iâll go back to the mountains, where a man canât be hemmed in.â
She took the hint. Mr. Ross obviously wanted to end the discussion. She decided to
let him have his way. She was a patient woman. She could wait to find out all the particulars.
âMadam told me you were born in Kentucky.â
âYes.â
âBut you fought on the side of the North?â
âYes,â he answered. âI moved North a long, long time ago.â
âBefore Montana Territory?â
âYes.â
âDid you believe in the war?â
âI believed every man in America has a right to freedom.â
âAnd every woman and child,â she interjected. âThey should have the same rights. No man should have the power to own another . . . isnât that right?â
âYes.â
âYou said you were eventually going back to the mountains. You want to be completely free, is that it? To go where the wind takes you.â
âYes.â
âWonât you get lonely?â
âNo.â
âYouâre very antisocial.â
He couldnât help but smile. She sounded as though she felt sorry for him. âYou donât have to pity me, Taylor. I donât want a family.â
Too late, she almost blurted out. He had a family, and it didnât matter to her that he might not want one. The babies came first. They were too young to fend for themselves. âAnd so youâll turn your back on . . . everyone?â Me, she silently added. Youâll turn your back on me. Lord, what would she do if she needed him? How would she and the twins and Victoria and her baby ever get along?
Taylorâs burst of panic was short-lived. She calmed herself almost immediately. She would do just fine. She hadnât planned on needing or wanting Lucas Ross in her life. It was ridiculous to feel even a bit of nervousness. She was an independent woman of means.
When she first heard the news of Georgeâs death and knew she was going to go to Boston to take on the responsibility of raising her nieces, she thought she would find a small city somewhere out West and take the little ones there. She would hire a housekeeper, and when the girls were older, she would make certain they had the finest tutors in America so they would be properly educated. Why, there might even be an acceptable school they could attend. The children were going to have every advantage, but more important, they would be safe from harm. Taylor wanted to make certain her uncle Malcolm never found them.
She was now reevaluating her decision. Every city in America had access to the telegraphs . . . and trains. They could easily be found in a city such as St. Louis or even Kansas City. Neither place was far enough away or difficult enough to get to should her uncle decide to send someone after her.
She let out a little sigh. Her voice was a bare whisper when she spoke. âHave you ever had a fear so unreasonable, it consumed you?â
She didnât wait for him to answer her. âI remember once, when I was a little girl, being unreasonably afraid of a falcon my father brought home. It wasnât enough that the predator was in a cage. I couldnât even stay inside the barn. Then the yard wasnât acceptable either. I ended up hiding in my room.â
Lucas was curious by what he considered a damned odd reaction. âWhy do you think you were so afraid?â
âMy uncle Malcolm told me the falcon liked blue eyes. I still get the shivers when I think about what he told me. Have you ever noticed how sharp a falconâs claws are?â
âYour uncle had a cruel sense of humor.â
âI was afraid of my uncle as well as the falcon,â she confessed in another whisper.
âWas it unreasonable, too?â
âNo. I was right to fear him. Itâs easy to find someone in a city, isnât it? Now that the telegraph has become so fashionable, and trains run almost everywhere, it is awfully easy to find someone . . . if youâre looking. Isnât it?â
âYes,â he answered. âWhy do you ask?â
She didnât want to tell him the truth. Perhaps she was being overly anxious. Surely once Uncle Malcolm received his motherâs money, he wouldnât think twice about her or the twins. He wouldnât have any reason to come after her.
And yet she knew he would.
âIâm being foolish,â she told Lucas.
âWhat other unreasonable fears did you have?â
âI used to bolt my bedroom door every night for fear someone would come inside while I was asleep.â
âThat doesnât sound unreasonable to me.â
âMaybe it wasnât,â she agreed. âBut I also pushed the heavy oak dresser in front of the door as an added barrier.â
âWho did you think would come inside while you slept? Somebody or anybody?â
âJust somebody.â She changed the subject before he had time to question her further. âIf you go back to your mountains . . .â
âNot if, Taylor, when,â he corrected.
âWhat happens if your brothers need you?â
âTheyâll know where to look. It would only take a month or two of searching.â
âIâm sure theyâll find that comforting news indeed in the event of an emergency.â
âTheyâll do just fine,â he stubbornly insisted.
âI certainly wouldnât come looking for you.â
âI didnât think you would.â
She snorted. He smiled. The little woman had a temper. She kept trying to hide it from him, but she wasnât doing a very good job. She had a death grip on his arm. Her nails were digging into his skin. He doubted she realized what she was doing. He wondered why she was so outraged on his brothersâ behalf. She acted as though he really were abandoning his family. She just didnât understand. He had made a bargain with his brothers when they had asked him for help, and heâd done everything he promised he would do. Hell, heâd done more than enough.
How could she know what his life was like? Sheâd been pampered and protected all her life. She certainly had never done without. She couldnât imagine what it had been like locked in a two-by-four cell without windows but with plenty of rats and screams of death all around him.
Lucas wasnât going to try to make her understand how he felt or why. He never talked about the war and he wasnât going to start now. Her opinion of him wasnât important.
Lucas recognized the lie immediately. For some reason, her opinion of him did matter. He couldnât imagine why and knew he wasnât making a lick of sense. He was tired, that was all. Fatigue was making it difficult to think straight. The storm was still raging with just as much intensity, and he wouldnât have been surprised to hear the warning bell ring alerting the passengers to abandon ship.
He wasnât going to worry over things he couldnât do anything about. If the ship went down, heâd grab Taylor and swim for the nearest shore or die trying.
He couldnât do anything about Taylorâs nearness either. She was so wonderfully soft and silky. She smelled good, too. Like roses. Her smooth, kissable skin could drive a man to distraction, and all he really wanted to do was bury his face in the crook of her neck and fall asleep inhaling her fragrance.
He was lying again. He wanted to make love to her, to bury himself inside . . .
âDo your brothers realize youâre going to desert them?â
He was thankful for the interruption. His thoughts were about to get him into trouble. He didnât mind that her question was actually insulting. She just didnât understand. Until she had called Jordan, Douglas, and Kelsey his family, he really hadnât considered them kin. They were just half brothers. Lucas had been alone for so long now, the notion of family was altogether foreign to him.
âYou sound outraged,â he remarked with a loud yawn.
âI believe I am a little outraged,â she responded. âI realize your brothers and their problems shouldnât be my concern, butââ
He didnât let her finish. âYouâre right. They arenât your concern. Go to sleep.â
âAre we finished discussing family responsibilities then?â
He ignored her question, letting his silence be all the answer she was going to get.
There was a bright side to the odd t
urn in the conversation, however. Taylor was so caught up in her outrage over what she considered to be disloyal family conduct on his part, she didnât have time or room to be worried about their situation any longer, and he supposed that was all good and well. His hide could withstand a few insults, especially if it kept her from being afraid. He didnât want her to think about drowning or dwell on the possibility. God only knew he had enough concern inside him for the two of them. He was beginning to wonder how much more battering the ship could take before being torn apart.
âTaylor, can you swim?â
âYes. Why do you ask?â
âJust wondered.â
âCan you?â
âYeah.â
A minute passed before she understood the motive behind his question. âCould you swim all the way to Boston?â she asked.
No one could. They were still a good two days away from port, perhaps even more, if the ship had been thrown off course by the high winds and relentless waves. âSure I could,â he answered without even a hint of laughter in his voice: He hoped his lie would help keep her fears at bay.
âMr. Ross?â
God, he hated it when she called him that. âWhat now?â
âIâm really not that gullible,â she said.
He smiled in the darkness. She let out a loud, lusty yawn. âI wonder if Iâll sleep through drowning.â
âWe wonât drown.â
âNo,â she agreed. âWe wonât.â
Several minutes passed in silence. Lucas thought she had finally fallen asleep. He couldnât stop himself from moving just a little bit closer to her. His head dropped to rest in the crook of her neck. He closed his eyes and tried for a long while to block his lustful thoughts. His discipline deserted him. He knew he should turn away from her. He couldnât. He should have been able to control his fantasies, damn it all. She was beguiling, yes, with those magical eyes and enchanting mouth and it was only a normal, healthy reaction on his part to get hard and want her. He was in bed with her, after all, and all she was wearing was a thin white nightgown. In the dark, wasnât one woman as good as another? Of course, he told himself. Taylor wasnât anything special.
And if that wasnât a lie, he didnât know what was. There wasnât a thing ordinary about Taylor. Lucas gritted his teeth and forced himself to roll away from her. He blocked her from being tossed about with his back, closed his eyes, and willed himself to go to sleep.