by Lois Greiman
"Is that true, ma'am?" the harsh voice demanded, giving another rap to the door.
"No!" she called out.
Raven sent her a warning scowl.
"It was a rat." A grin lifted the corner of her mouth and her gaze slipped with shocking boldness down over his naked form. "A big one," she added, before lifting her eyes to his.
"You're certain you're all right, ma'am?"
"Yes," she answered, not breaking eye contact. "I'm sure."
"I could get rid of that rat for you."
"No!" they shouted in unison, tearing their gazes from each other to snap them to the door.
"No," Raven repeated, clearing his throat and yanking a blanket from the bed to cover his much maligned manhood. "That won't be necessary. But thanks for your concern, sir."
"Well, all right," said the stranger. In a moment he was gone.
Charm lifted a sheet from the floor and stifled a giggle behind it.
"You," Raven said, pointing at her, "are dangerous. A killer woman."
"And you're the devil's spawn," she quipped, raising her lovely shoulders in a quick shrug.
Raven watched the movement. He realized with some chagrin that he was holding his breath, waiting to see if the wayward blanket would bless him with abandonment.
"Don't look at me like that," she warned.
"Like what?"
"Like... like that." She waved vaguely toward him.
He grinned, raising his gaze. "I'll give you ten minutes to get cleaned up and dressed. If you're not ready in that time, I do more than look."
"Ten minutes! I can't—"
"Nine minutes and fifty-five seconds."
"I'm... filthy."
"Better wash. Nine minutes and fifty seconds."
She made a disgruntled sound in her throat and shook her head at him. "You'll have to leave."
"Nope. Nine minutes forty-five, and I watch."
Heat rose in beautiful living color to her cheeks. "Forget it."
He took a step toward her. "Then get in bed."
She held out a restraining hand. "Don't you dare come closer."
"Nine minutes thirty-five seconds."
"Raven!"
"Call me Joseph."
"Joseph! I can't." Her gaze flitted frantically away. "I really can't."
"Nine and a half minutes." He grinned. “The boat won't wait, Lucky Charm, and neither will I."
"It's... it's broad daylight." She sounded fairly frantic now.
"I know."
"It wouldn't be right. Me, unclothed, washing in front of... No! Absolutely not!"
"Drop the sheet."
"Joseph!"
"I will if you will."
"There's no way I'll..." Her words came to an abrupt stop as air left her lungs in a slight whoosh of sound. "What?"
His grin broadened. "At the count of three, we'll drop them together."
Her lips moved but no sound came forth.
"All right?"
She paused then nodded stiffly, her upturned little mouth pursed with prudish seriousness.
"One. Two. Three," he counted and let the blanket fall.
Her gaze did the same while her sheet remained pulled to her chin.
"You cheat," Raven complained, placing his fists on his hips.
Her eyes were wide, her mouth formed into a cute little circle of awe. "I know," she breathed.
He growled and started toward her, but she backed quickly away, tripping on her bulky tail before righting herself with a start. "I'll do it! I will." She waved toward the bed. "You just... you just go sit."
He raised his brows in distrust but finally nodded and bent to retrieve his blanket.
"No deal," she said sternly.
Raven remained half bent, only lifting his gaze to stare at her. "I beg your pardon."
"Leave the blanket or the deal's off."
He opened his mouth for a retort, then snapped his teeth back together and strode obediently toward the bed. Strange, how self-conscious he felt with her gaze hot and steady on his naked body. Self-conscious and aroused. The bed ropes groaned beneath his weight.
"I'm ready," he said.
Charm clasped the sheet tighter to her chest, took a deep breath, felt each nerve tingle at the sight of his boldly nude form and dropped the sheet.
His nostrils flared. His eyes narrowed slightly, and though she dared not stare at his nether parts, she could sense a tightening of his already granite-hard body.
Somehow the air had disappeared from the room, leaving it stifling and hot. Turning her back to him, she moved stiffly to the pitcher and poured the water with some difficulty into the basin. Washcloths and towels would be in the commode upon which it stood, she knew. But she lacked the courage to bend down and get them, and so she stood frozen in place like the proverbial pillar of salt.
"Eight and a half," Raven said from behind her, but his tone was husky, she noticed.
So it was not all such simple sport for him after all, Charm deduced. Encouraged by that knowledge, she retrieved the linens and straightened without breathing. Dipping a cloth into the water, she dripped it wringing wet over one shoulder.
The world was absolutely silent. She dipped the rag again, then draped it over her opposite shoulder and let the water bead cool and soft down her back and over the flared sensitivity of her buttocks. Once again she doused the cloth, and now the water skimmed like gentle fingers over her waist and down her thighs to converge at the vee between them. Glancing breathlessly over her shoulder, Charm settled her gaze on Raven's face.
He sat perfectly still. With his hands making fists and every muscle standing in hard ridges of discipline.
She drew a shaky breath. With almost unconscious method, she stroked the cloth down her belly to her thighs.
"Charm," he said gruffly. Without warning, he launched himself from the bed to turn her in his arms.
Their gazes caught like living sparks and their bodies trembled in unison. Her chin tilted slightly upward and against her hip his manhood quivered with excitement.
"Charm," he breathed again, leaning closer.
"Seven and a half," she murmured just before their lips touched.
Raven stopped an inch from her mouth, every nerve taut with anticipation. "Damn the time."
Her breathing was hard, but a tentative grin surfaced. "Seven twenty-five."
"You're an evil woman."
She lowered her lids slightly, employing the expression she had used so often with gamblers in the past. "And you're squelching on a deal, Joseph. I still have over seven minutes left."
As he removed his hands she thought that she felt them tremble. Her grin tilted up teasingly. "Back on the bed."
"Charm..." His hands were fists again. "If you lift that rag again all bets are off."
She raised one brow at him. "What? The poker-faced gambler brought low?"
A muscle in his cheek flexed. "Not low, Lucky Charm."
She chuckled, letting her gaze drop for a moment before raising it to his face. "I thought you were in a hurry to leave."
The muscle flexed again. "I changed my mind."
"Clancy will make a lovely addition to our journey."
It took him a moment to absorb her meaning. His fists gripped hard against nothing, causing his knuckles to go white with the pressure. He took a deep breath—then, "I'll wait in the hall," he growled, and grabbing blanket and a brown paper package, stiffly retreated.
"Damn him!" Raven entered the room and slammed the door shut behind. "Damn! Damn! Damn!"
Charm turned abruptly toward him, her fingers falling away from the buttons she'd just fastened. "What..." she began but stopped when she noticed his pants. They were black worsted, expensively tailored... and five sizes too large.
"Well..." She cleared her throat and tried not to grin, but his bare chest, perfectly muscled and proportioned, made the ridiculously oversized trousers even sillier.
"He did this on purpose," Raven declared flatly.
"I'm going to hang him," Raven vowed evenly.
She pursed her mouth. "One minute thirty seconds."
"Damn," he said again. Storming across the room, he retrieved the remainder of his clothing.
Chapter 27
"But we can't leave Angel."
"You're being ridiculous," Raven countered. "We can't take that tatter-eared mongrel on the Yankee Belle"
Charm lifted her chin slightly. "He saved your life."
Raven snorted. "He didn't save my life. You did. He's just a horse. And an ugly one at that."
"He did save your life," she argued. "He could have run off and kept running. But he came back to us."
Raven deepened his scowl. "We don't have time for this, Charm. We're leaving the horse and that's..." he began, but lifting his gaze, he saw the earnest appeal in her emerald-bright eyes.
It was neither easy nor inexpensive to convince the Yankee Belle's first mate to accept a lop-eared horse into the cargo room on such short notice. And yet he finally agreed, a fact which Raven could only attribute to Charm's charm.
In the end, she insisted on seeing to Angel's well-being herself. The Belle's mate left to see to his own business. Surprisingly, there were two other horses in the cargo space, which the animals would share with the roustabouts. Beautiful, blooded stock with muscular thick-maned crests, they gave deep-throated snorts upon Angel's arrival. Apparently the highbred steeds were as unimpressed with their companion's appearance as Raven himself was. Nevertheless, Charm was relentless and begged a passing roustabout to see to Angel's welfare.
"Please take good care of him," she pleaded, settling her bright gaze on the gelding's lumpy head as if it were carved from purest gold. "He's got a kind heart."
"Yes, ma'am," the dark-skinned roustabout said respectfully. Although his was the lowest position on the steamer, there was a tender expression in his black eyes that suggested he would follow through with his promise.
"You're certain he'll be safe here?" asked Charm.
"Quite safe, ma'am. I'll see t' thet m'self."
"Those cages..." She scowled at the rows upon rows of empty squares made of wire and wood. 'They won't come clattering about and scare him?"
Raven watched her in silence and almost smiled. The killer woman sometimes forgot to hide her tender heart and allowed the world a glimpse of her true self. But in this case her worry was misplaced, for despite the thrumming of the engines and the frenzied bustling all about them, Angel looked very near sleep. Still, Charm fussed over him as if he possessed the finest of blood.
“Them's cages for bringin' cats west," explained the roustabout. "To get rid of rats. But they're all empty now and tied real secure. No harm'll come to yer hoss."
Finally, after a few additional questions and as many heartfelt assurances, Charm was convinced to move up the stairs to find her own quarters.
The Yankee Belle was an impressive vessel and one Raven had had the privilege of traveling on before. Well over two hundred feet long, she boasted three ornate decks that loomed in scrolling elegance above the dark water of the muddy Missouri River. The oaken flooring resounded solidly beneath the couple's feet. From the stern they could see the huge paddle gleaming with whitewashed brilliance in the morning sun.
Glancing quickly about, Raven assured himself of Clancy's continued absence before noticing Captain Josiah Fields. In his late fifties, Fields was still an impressive man. He strolled on the upper deck now with an elegant lady on his arm. Raven could only hope that she was the captain's wife to whom he was well committed. Glancing at Charm now, he thought it might have been wiser to choose a less prestigious vessel, lest the Captain's attention be drawn to Charm's charms. But in a moment, Raven shook away the thought. Chantilly belonged here amidst the wealthy.
The room they were shown to was clean, attractively decorated, and intimately small. Raven guided Charm inside with his hand set to the small of her back. She felt tense, he noticed, and watched her step stiffly in to eye the single bed.
"Cozy." He grinned, feeling that now familiar grip on his heart as he looked at her. But in a moment he found the ability to pull his gaze away and deposit her bag on the floor. Unfortunately all of his assessable clothing was on his body, and mostly very embarrassing. "Good thing we won't need much room."
She remained as she was, affording him the lovely view of her posterior, the dramatic curve of her waist, the swell of her buttocks and the smooth length of her bare nape beneath the burnished chestnut knot of hair. Such a pretty nape. He leaned forward, kissing the delicate skin beneath her hairline.
Charm jumped, pivoting quickly about, her eyes wide and her face pale, as if unable to imagine who might have touched her.
Raven lifted one palm upward in a sign of peace. "Just me, Lucky Charm. And I don't bite."
She nibbled the inside of her lip, looking inexplicably nervous.
"Scared?" he asked softly.
"No!" Her answer was quick and terse.
Raven watched her carefully. "There's no need to fear me, Charm," he said and took a step forward.
"I don't!" She backed rapidly away.
He stopped, enforcing patience. 'Then what is it?"
"You can't stay in this room!"
He scowled, forgetting to control his expression for a moment. "And why would that be, Charm?"
"Because..."
He was reminded of how she had looked on their first encounter, haughty and defiant. "We're not really married." Her voice sounded tight.
Raven could feel the tension seep from her body into his. "Exactly what do you mean by that?" he asked evenly.
"You know what I mean! It's not a real marriage! It's all a sham."
He remained silent for a moment, tightening his jaw and waiting for discipline. He had tried to disavow his feelings for her, but there had been no hope of that, and when he'd touched her the last time, he had fully given in to his desire, hoping against feeble hope that some small part of his love would be returned.
But now her expression warned him of the truth, so he kept his own features and his tone carefully smooth. "And what do you call last night?"
"A mistake!" Her answer came very quickly. She turned now, striding the few paces to the wall. "Oh..." She laughed, but the tone was very tight. "It was pleasant enough. But surely you don't think I'll be bound to you for eternity because of one rash moment."
Raven squeezed his fists, tamping down the blistering memories of passion and more. Damn her! Damn her for being the better gambler, for holding all the cards. "I seem to remember two rash moments."
She laughed again. "Don't be silly. You know exactly what I mean."
"No. I don't think I do."
Her face was pale and he wondered if she'd quit breathing. "You said we'd have it annulled. I thought we both understood the situation."
"Well..." His teeth hurt. "I'm rather slow on the uptake sometimes, Charm. Perhaps you'd better explain the... situation." Involuntarily he took a step forward.
She bumped sharply against the wall, holding her breath and jamming one hand into the pocket of her gown. "Don't come any closer!"
He stopped abruptly. It seemed he'd heard that warning a thousand times. If he'd learned anything, he'd learned that it was unwise to crowd her. Yet, every fiber in him wanted to shake her until she admitted the truth—that she'd felt the same internal storm as he. That she loved him, would never feel complete without him. She must feel it! She must!
"Damn it, Charm!" he swore, advancing.
"I'm warning you!" Her voice was scratchy, and the terror in her eyes was apparent.
It cooled something inside him slightly, allowing his fists to loosen a bit and his breathing to slow. "You slept in my arms," he said quietly. "You slept." He forced himself to move backward, toward the door, toward clearer thought. "Whether you want to believe it or not, you trusted me, Charm. Me, and nobod
y else."
Outside the door Raven drew a deep breath and swore in silence. An annulment! Dammit! Of course, he'd planned to annul the marriage, but it had seemed different when it was his idea. And besides, that was before. Before he felt her beneath him. Felt her quiver of... Damn! His strides were quick and steady now, bearing him as far away as the confinement of the steamer would allow. He needed air, needed space, needed... pants, he realized suddenly, and seeing one of the Belle's mates, stopped him to ask how he might acquire a change of clothing.
"I'm surprised at you, Joseph, wantin' to get rid of my gift," Clancy chuckled from behind him. "And they look so fine on you."
Raven turned. Although every bit of good sense in him said to greet Bodine with feigned good humor, he could not oblige. Sweeping his hand upward, he grabbed the other's throat and propelled his thrashing body through the scattering crowd to the railing behind. "Get the hell out of my life, Bodine," he growled.
"Joseph! Joseph!" squeaked the other, his hands clawing at Raven's grip. "You think I'm following you? I didn't know you was on this boat."
Raven vaguely heard the squawks and gasps of the crowd behind him, but for once his patient self-control had snapped. He squeezed his hand. "You used to be a damned good liar, Clance. And not a bad swimmer. Hope you've been practicing that skill." He pushed backward.
"While we appreciate the spot of entertainment, gentlemen," said a carefully cultured voice from behind, "I fear there's insufficient room for fisticuffs aboard my vessel. Therefore..." The sound of a handgun cocking was perfectly clear to Raven's ears. "I must insist that you continue your dispute on land."
It would take little more than a shove to propel Clancy over the side, just a push and a curse, and it would feel so good. But Raven had spent his life controlling his fondest desires and did so now. He eased his hand open and backed away, though he found it impossible for a moment to unclench his teeth.
"Mr. Scott, isn't it?" asked Fields.
Raven nodded, not taking his eyes from Clancy.
"Yes. I thought I remembered you. A gambler, I believe, but not usually so... disruptive."
"This man tried to kill me!" croaked Clancy dramatically.
Fields turned slowly. "And who might you be?"