by Playing
“No. I know he was betrothed before, but he never told me to whom.” She turned back to Drew, so pale, so quiet.
“Bridget.”
Her entire body grew cold, as if he’d just doused her with barrel of rainwater, and her heart plummeted into her belly. “What?”
“That is who Bridget is. And trust me, she doesn’t compare to you.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
Jeremy smiled. “I’ve known Captain McKenzie since we were boys. I was there through the entire Bridget fiasco and this — its aftermath. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. The way he watches you when you don’t know it. He knew you were in danger the other afternoon. I don’t know how, but he just knew.”
“Then why did he not realize he was in danger?”
He shook his head. “It mattered not to him. You were his only concern. He would sacrifice himself for you, as he proved the other afternoon. Somehow, I don’t think Bridget ever garnered that sort of sentiment.” He shifted in his chair, making it squeak. “Not even on their best days together.”
“What happened?”
“I think I will let him tell you that,” he replied evenly. “It’s his business, not mine. Just keep in mind, he may not realize it yet, but he cares for you. And, when he does tell you about Bridget, you will understand why he might not realize it. Trust me.”
“Why should I?”
He grinned. “Because I want that hulking giant over there to be happy. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that. Since before he met you as a matter of fact. And he deserves it. You are good for him. Just be patient.”
She cast a glance over at Drew, who was tossing about once more. “I can manage that,” she said thoughtfully.
Slapping his hands against his thighs, he rose from his chair and moved to the door. “Just let me know if you need anything, Miss Morgan.”
“Please.” She smiled over her shoulder. “Call me Heather.”
His laughter floated back to her even as he disappeared around the corner. It lifted her spirits for a moment, but then she turned her attention back to Drew and they sank again.
“So another piece has been added to the puzzle that makes you, you.” She shifted, going from the uncomfortable chair to perch on the edge of the bed. “There is so much I still have to learn about you.”
What could have Bridget done to him? And if it was so horrible, why was he mumbling her name? It made no sense to her. No sense at all.
She remained at his bedside, even as her back stiffened and her eyes grew heavier. She pushed through her discomfort, rising from the chair only to bathe his forehead, straighten his blankets and add oil to the lamp burning beside the bed. As the first pearly light of dawn entered the cabin, she arched her back, trying to ease some of the soreness from her muscles.
Drew broke the silence. “Heather?”
The dry croak made her forget about her discomfort. “Yes?”
His fingers curled about hers. “Come here.” He urged her down beside him. “What day is this?”
She snuggled into him as he laced his fingers through hers. “I’m not even certain. I’m afraid I’ve lost track.”
He eased an arm about her shoulders, pulling her close. “You look exhausted.”
It was so wonderful, stretching out, fitting so perfectly into the planes of his body. “I am fine. How do you feel?”
He grimaced. “Like I had a bullet dug out of me. It’s a first.”
She rose up, propping herself up on one elbow to gaze down at him. It was so wonderful to see his beautiful amber eyes again. She would never grow tired of looking into those eyes. Ever.
Heather pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. It was damp, but cool. She breathed an inward sigh of relief. He was still frighteningly pale, but at least he sounded stronger. “It appears your fever has finally broken.”
“Thank the Lord.” He sank into the pillows. “I had the wildest dreams.” He arched an eyebrow, giving her a devilish grin. “And you were in some of them.”
“How could you be dreaming about — about that? I was so afraid you would never wake up.”
His arm tightened about her, pulling her closer still. “I wasn’t so certain I wanted to wake up. Aren’t you even going to ask what I dreamt about?”
“I think I might be better off not knowing.”
He nuzzled her playfully. “You, sweetheart. Naked and warm in my arms.”
Heat flooded her cheeks even as her insides gave a queer leap. “You, sir, are incorrigible.”
“You bring out the best in me, I suppose.”
That brought a smile to her lips as she lowered back to snuggle against him. “You ought to try and rest, Drew. You look terribly exhausted.”
“To think, I was going to say the same thing to you.”
They lay quietly for a long moment. His fingers absently moved over her hair, and she shifted to rest her head upon his chest. The slow, steady beat of his heart beneath her ear, those fingers caressing her hair with such long, slow strokes, the sound of his deep voice, they were all so wonderful. For the first time in days, happiness filled her and she gave him a gentle squeeze.
“What’s on your mind, love?” he whispered.
“Not a thing.”
“Come now, there must be something going on beneath those curls,” he chided gently.
“No.” She lifted her head to look at him. “I am just thankful to hear your voice again.”
“You were worried about me, then?”
“You have no idea.”
They lay together quietly, and the ship’s gentle rocking motion lulled her into a peaceful state of drowsiness. It was only when Drew groaned that she lifted her head. “Drew?”
“I’m fine, my lady. Just a bit sore still.”
She sat up, tugging the blankets down to peer at the bandage. The blood had dried, the white linens now a dull, dirty reddish-brown shade. “I think the worst is over now,” she said, meeting his eyes. “You will be up and about in no time. No time at all.”
“I certainly hope so.” He scratched idly at his belly, above the bandage. “It’s starting to itch.”
She lightly slapped his hand away. “Do be careful, then. I don’t want you to begin bleeding again now.”
His hand went still, his gaze remaining locked with hers. “You should get some sleep. No offense, but you look like hell.”
“Thank you,” she replied dryly. “What do you expect, when I’ve not slept in nearly three days?”
“You’ve been up for three days?”
“Someone had to watch over you.”
He shook his head. “You are unique, Heather. There is a surgeon on board, you know.”
“I know, but I don’t trust that man. I know as much when it comes to caring for you.”
“Really, now?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you can rest now, love. As you can see, I am on the road to recovery.” Drew pulled her back to his chest. “Care to see how much better I am feeling?”
“You are impossible,” she burst out, shaking her head. “A man shot you four days ago and now you want to — to — ”
“Make love?”
“Oh!” She threw back the blankets and scrambled from the bed. “You are insane! You would risk re-injuring yourself, another fever, bleeding to death, for that?”
He propped himself up on one elbow, arching that infuriating brow once more. “Sweetheart, it would be more than worth it.”
“If I didn’t know where Mr. Mason had pulled that mangled ball from, I would swear it was your head!”
If she expected contrition, he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Instead, he grinned. “Well, it wasn’t my head now, was it?”
“Drew.”
His grin faded, but didn’t disappear entirely. However, weariness crept into his voice as he replied, “I am teasing, Heather. I should think you would be flattered to know a man would risk death to make love to you.”
�
�It isn’t the slightest bit amusing how you can joke so easily about your brush with death. I’ve never been so frightened in my life and you act as if it was nothing more than an inconvenience. And, if you wish to know the truth, I would think that man is insane.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him.
Drew took a deep breath as he sat up. All traces of teasing were gone as he rose on unsteady legs, swaying as he righted himself. “Heather, are you going to make a wounded man chase you?”
“Get back in that bloody bed.” She jabbed a stern finger in the direction of the bed.
He took a step toward her. “Come here.”
She stepped back. “I mean it, Drew. Back in bed. This instant.”
“Not alone. Come here.”
She swallowed her rising irritation. How could he be serious in wanting to pull her back into bed with him? Why would he take such a risk? “I am not bloody joking.”
“Nor am I.” Another step. “You are going to make me chase you, aren’t you?”
“Drew McKenzie, do not take another step. I mean it. Not one more bloody step.”
A grin played at his lips. “If you are going to scold me, love, at least use my given name. Andrew Kieran, if I really work you into a fury.” He closed the gap between them, snaking his arms about her waist to pull her flush against him.
She tried to ignore the warmth of his breath on her neck, the heat from his hands seeping into her back, how his lips tickled her ear. “A-Andrew…” she repeated in a breathless whisper, her eyelids drooping as his tongue moved lightly about the shell of her ear. Her knees threatened to buckle, her fingernails digging into his upper arms as she tried to steady herself. “Stop that…”
“No.”
“Drew!”
“Ah-ah, love…”
Her head fell back as he nibbled down her throat. Delightful. Absolutely delightful. Although she didn’t want him to stop, she didn’t want him to hurt himself either. “Drew, stop it…”
“Never.”
He worked magic with his mouth, melted her resolve with his unrelenting kisses. She swayed in his arms, dizzy from the sensations reverberating through her. It was so wonderful the way he brought her skin to life. It was hard to breathe and she gripped him even tighter.
“Drew, this is insane,” she managed to whisper. “You are going to kill yourself.”
“I’ll die a happy man, then,” came his breathless reply, his lips scorching her flesh.
He brought a hand up to slide over the outer contour of her breast. She shivered, a soft sigh bubbling to her lips as the jolt rushed through her. Then, the rough edge of his bandage pressed into her and her head cleared at once.
“Drew, stop.” She broke the embrace by placing her hands flat against his chest and giving a gentle push. “Please, there will be plenty of time once you have healed.”
He stumbled, loosening his hold on her. “Perhaps you are right, Heather.”
“I am. Please, please go back to bed.”
His hand curved against her cheek. “As you wish.”
She eased an arm about his waist, guiding him back to the bed. “I do not wish to go through the last four days ever again. You have no idea how terrified I was that you were going to die.”
She helped him lie back down and pulled the blankets up to his shoulders. Perching on the edge of the bed, she touched his roughened cheek. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. Don’t you understand that? I almost lost you once; I do not wish to lose you again.”
“I am not going anywhere, my lady,” he replied in a sleepy voice. “You have my word.”
“I am going to hold you to that,” she said as he drifted off to sleep once more. She leaned over until her lips brushed his ear. “I love you, Andrew McKenzie, and I will never let you go.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Ten days after his wounding, Drew was able to rise from bed. They’d been at sea twenty-two days and their journey to America was drawing to a close.
Drew stepped onto the quarterdeck to find Heather already there, just gazing up at the moon, lost in thought. The sight brought back an incredible dream — wild and erotic — that he’d had while in the grips of the fever. At the end, she collapsed against him as she whispered, “I love you.”
The dream was so real, he would swear it had actually happened. But she gave no indication of feeling anything for him. At least she was no longer the meek miss she’d been. Since their argument over the subject, she didn’t kowtow to his every whim. That became clear when he tried to get out of bed without Mr. Mason’s approval and she refused to let him up. In his frustration, he snarled, then stared in surprised silence when she snarled right back at him.
There was too much space between them, so he left his post and crossed over to her. She jumped as he rested his forearms on the railing beside her. “A penny for your thoughts.”
She twisted back to look at him. “I’m just admiring how lovely the sky looks.”
“Nothing quite like a full moon on a clear night when you are at sea.”
“God’s taken the finest diamonds in existence and mounted them on the finest black velvet for all the world to enjoy.”
“Very poetically put, my lady.” He leaned back on one elbow against the rail. “Very poetic indeed.”
“You don’t agree?”
“I didn’t say that. I’ve never really paid much attention, I suppose.”
“We are almost there, aren’t we?”
“We are.”
Her forehead creased, her brows pulled low. She opened and closed her mouth several times, then blurted, “What happens then? When we reach America?”
He asked himself the same question several times since they left London, yet he still had no answer. “What do you expect to happen?”
“If I expected anything, would I ask?”
“Things will still be as they are, Heather. Nothing has changed.”
“Am I still to be your mistress?”
“Are you saying you don’t want to be my mistress?” He winked at her, but she remained stoic.
“I think it’s a bit late for that, wouldn’t you say? Now that we are here and all. Besides, you’ve hardly gotten your money’s worth.”
So much for trying to lighten her mood. He turned back to the water, linking his fingers. “Do you think that’s what matters to me? What I care about? Money?”
“You should. It was a huge sum.”
“So all I could want is to make certain I recoup what I spent?”
She swallowed. “I didn’t say that. But what happens once we arrive? Where am I to go? To stay? What am I to do there? Am I to be hidden away, where you will make midnight calls for a secret rendezvous?”
“Have I ever said I was going to hide you away somewhere?”
“One doesn’t normally squire his mistress about town. Even I am not naïve enough to think this will be any different.”
“I don’t know what will happen. I’ve become spoiled by the way things have been. I do not have my own house and there is only a slim possibility of my family allowing you to stay with them. They wouldn’t be happy, since you’re without a chaperone.”
“Of course not. No decent family would allow a whore to sleep beneath their roof.” Hurt echoed in her voice, although she had to know he wasn’t being intentionally cruel.
“That isn’t what I meant, Heather.” He straightened his fingers, then let them ease back into position. “It’s no different than in London. Aren’t unmarried ladies expected to have someone watching over them, to make certain they aren’t compromised?”
“Yes, but — ”
“No, there is no but. It’s no more than that, and no less.”
He turned back to her, to find her staring at him with an incredulous expression. “But people will eventually wonder, They’ll wonder and talk and eventually, someone will find out. What happens then?”
“I don’t give a damn what happens then. I’ve never worried about what s
omeone might think.” He pulled his hands apart and took one of hers. “I don’t give a damn where we met. I am glad we did. You’ve brought much needed change to my life.”
“Have I?”
He squeezed her hand. “You have, my lady. You have made my life so much brighter since walking in to it.”
Her frown lifted, brightening her face. “Is that so?”
She didn’t resist as he pulled her from the rail, into his arms. “You have no idea.”
“So tell me.”
He chuckled, giving her a squeeze. “You have nothing to worry about, Miss Morgan. When we reach Brunswick, we will take things as they come.”
He kissed the top of her head, then rested his chin against her hair, wishing he could give her the assurance she sought. But the truth was, he also wondered what would happen once they returned to Brunswick. No one could ever learn how he met her. The ramifications would be brutal. She would be shunned, an outcast, whether deserved or not. She would never be received in society and the gossip would be merciless.
He absently stroked her hair. He didn’t want to bring that kind of pain down onto her, but saw no way to avoid it. Letting her go wasn’t an option.
She pulled away. “What is on your mind?”
“We will figure something out when we get to Brunswick, Heather. I promise.”
He kissed the top of her head. “If you will excuse me, love, it’s time for me to return to my duties.”
“Of course.”
He left her to watch as New Jersey drew nearer. He went back to the wheel to guide the ship into the swirling gray-black waters of Raritan Bay and from there, to Brunswick’s harbor. The pink light of dawn streaked across the early morning sky, but there were plenty of other ships coming in with the tide. The last thing he wanted was a collision in the middle of the bay.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sunlight slanted across the cabin when Bobby returned with the hired carriages. Drew had been gone most of the day, taking care of the cargo. While he was gone, Heather did one last sweep of the cabin, stripping the bed with a sigh. She was going to miss being on board the Triton. It had become home to her.