Fire Lily (A Dangerous Hearts Romance)

by Deborah Camp

  “And?” Lily prompted, keeping her distance until she could get a better grip on his mood.

  “And what do you think?” he asked, dryly. “They lied, let him look around their place, and then he galloped happily back to town.”

  “Piffle!” She stamped one bare foot against the thin carpet. “Why didn’t you go with him?”

  “He wanted to go alone.” Griffon shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t think my being present would matter one way or the other.”

  “So, that’s it? That’s all the sheriff can do?”

  “For now, yes.” He picked at a loose embroidery thread in the scarf covering the table at his elbow to keep from staring at her like a man craving a bite to eat. Had she any earthly idea how tempting she was in that formfitting wrapper with her russet hair framing a face that haunted his every waking hour? His heart thumped in his chest and his body, below the waist, began to tighten, twitch.

  “I don’t know what I expected,” Lily said, pulling fretfully at her lower lip. “But I feel crushed … defeated.”

  “I just spoke with Jasper Jeffers about you. He came into town to check on your well-being.” His gaze shifted from the scarf to her. “You have an admirer in him. That might be to our advantage. We could use a friend in the enemy camp.”

  Having gained some equilibrium, Lily closed some of the distance between them and sat on the side of the bed, facing Griffon. “He’s like a child. I’m surprised he was in town this late at night.”

  “I believe he crept away and plans to be home by morning, before anyone misses him. I got the impression he took quite a chance in seeking us out.”

  “Sweet boy.”

  “We spoke briefly of Anson, and Jasper talked as if Anson was about somewhere.”

  “Did he?” She hitched one shoulder. “You’re surprised?”

  “Not really. I never believed that Anson left for parts unknown. The Jefferses are as thick as thieves and wouldn’t let one of their own stray too far without knowing where to and for how long.”

  “Yes, that never washed with me, either.”

  “Have you noticed how in tune we are? It’s uncanny how alike we think. For instance, when I was outside”—he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the window—“I heard you calling my name.”

  “But I didn’t.” Her gingery brown eyes smiled at him. “You imagined it.”

  “I heard you, here.” He tapped his temple and gave a wink. “You were so anxious to talk to me, to find out what I’d learned from the sheriff, that your feelings reached me, practically dragged me across the street and into the hotel. It was just like in the woods when I could feel you behind me.”

  Her laugh was breathless. “What else did Jasper have to say? Be serious.”

  “I am serious.” He sat forward, hands on knees, elbows akimbo. “Let’s talk about what happened to you at Devil’s Den, about what happened to you in the barn back in Fort Smith. Let’s talk about you being psychic.”

  “No.” She shook her head so violently that her fiery hair fanned out around her shoulders. She crossed her legs, her arms, folding into herself.

  “What are you afraid of? I’m not leaving this room—not giving you a moment’s peace—until you tell me, Lily.”

  His expression was implacable, and Lily knew stalling would do no good. “Me. I’m afraid of me.” She spread a hand above her breasts and fought against the burn of emotion in her nose and throat. “Tell me, Griffon Goforth, how can I go on like this? How can I live with so much fear writhing inside me? I’ll go mad. I’ll end up in one of those horrible asylums!” She pushed all ten fingers through her hair and rocked back and forth, trying to dispel the anxiety. “God, what a curse.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. It’s a blessing.”

  “Is that how you live with it? You fool yourself into thinking you’re normal by telling yourself you’re blessed? Well, I don’t see it that way. I don’t want to be out of control. I don’t want to drop off into a void, unable to come back until whatever evil that has a hold on me lets go. Someday that evil might not let go, and that’s when the madness will take me over for good. That’s not a blessing, Griffon.” She hiccuped a sob and began to tremble. The burning switched to her eyes, but she fought the tears. “I’m so fr-frightened.”

  “I know, but that’s only because you don’t understand what you’re dealing with.” He sat beside her on the bed and took her into his arms. She leaned into him, letting the tears come. “Whoever made you think your gift is a sign of madness should be horsewhipped. But I do understand your confusion, Lily. After all, I’ve know it firsthand, haven’t I? I was cast out by my family because I knew things, felt things, understood things they couldn’t. My grandmother was psychic, but even she feared it showing up in me. Only women were supposed to be so blessed.”

  “I don’t feel bl-blessed.” Lily made herself sit upright, although a part of her wanted to melt into Griffon’s arms and let him make everything better. “Sometimes these … these things hurt others. Do you like being shunned, being pointed at as if you’re two-headed or a horned monster? I don’t want to go through life like that.”

  “Usually, I don’t feel that people are pointing fingers at me. Unless I tell them, they don’t know that I have special gifts. It’s not seen with the naked eye, you know.”

  She shivered. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “But you must. You can’t live your life in hiding. How long do you think you can dodge this bullet?”

  “I believe that if you don’t cultivate this … this strange seed, it will die. It’s a phase I’m going through. Don’t look at me as if I’m already daffy. I know myself.”

  “You are what they call a gilded lily.” He smiled at his own cleverness. “Yes, that’s it. You have a beauty all your own, but you don’t trust it, so you’ve coated yourself with something you think is more attractive. But that’s what it is, Lily. It’s a coating—a veneer that will rub off over the years. There will always be people like me who see through the veneer to the more beautiful you. It’s not a bad seed. It’s … magic, mystic, a rare flowering.”

  Something broke loose inside her and sailed off, wild and free. Lily touched her fingertips to one corner of his mouth, lightly, wonderingly. “How is it that you can look through my clothing, skin, muscle, and bone to see the very heart of me?” she asked, her fingertip tracing the lush curve of his lower lip and his cupid’s bow upper one. His face reflected a myriad of cultures, ethnic characteristics, the best of everything. From his bold, Roman nose to his heavenly blue eyes, he was male beauty, gathered from every corner of the wide, wonderful world. Even his accent was not entirely British, but foreign, taking from the many tongues in his colorful family history.

  Lily released a little sigh. “I have tried so often to be like someone else. Oftentimes like Cecille. Gay, high-spirited, caring nothing of the ways of the world other than what frock is in fashion, which hat to buy, and what type of jewels to wear with each gown.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “But I find that all so trivial.”

  “And so you should.”

  He laughed, and she liked the feel of it against her fingertips. His breath smelled faintly of liquor, and she wondered if he’d been drinking alone or with someone.

  “Could you study anything you wished at Oxford?”

  Again, his laughing breath beat against her fingertips. “Yes. Whatever made you think of that?”

  “That’s one of the things I’ve tried not to wish forgoing to college. At one time, I wanted it.”

  “You should. You’d enjoy it immensely. It would be good for you.”

  “You don’t think it would be … well, unseemly of me?”

  The black slashes of his brows met. “How so?”

  “You know, a young lady going to an institution of higher learning and all. It’s a waste, don’t you think?”

  “What’s important is what you think.”

  She kept her gaze steadfastly on his m
outh, unable to meet his eyes when she answered in a small voice, “I think it would be heaven on earth.”

  “Then you should, by all means, enroll at college. A woman with your intellect would excel.”

  “Do you think I’m intelligent?”

  “Extremely, and so do you.”

  It was her turn to laugh, for he’d spoken the God’s truth. Her laughter died, struck down by what she knew was reality. “Father would never consent. He told me I couldn’t go to college.”

  “Why do you need his permission? If you want, I’ll help you to enroll. I have a few connections. Or you might want to attend one of the colleges outside Massachusetts. There are quite a few outstanding ones for women.”

  She couldn’t help but smile, although she knew this was all a dream. She’d never enroll, never take college classes. But she was ever so grateful for Griffon’s support of her dream. “Dreams should be nurtured,” she said, speaking her thoughts aloud. “Not dashed. Not ridiculed.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his. In the twilight of the room, his eyes glittered with stardust. He directed his attention to her mouth. Warmth imbued her, sent that wild, free spirit soaring inside her again. She didn’t have to read his mind to know his wish.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I would very much like it if you would kiss me.”

  His thumb and forefinger at her chin tipped her head just so a second before his lips brushed hers. She smiled. So did he. Again, a butterfly’s kiss, honeyed and oh, so sweet. On a sigh, she let her lashes flutter down. His mouth closed over hers in a succulent kiss. Lily placed her hand at the side of his head, her fingers dancing lightly over the square bandage that covered his wound. When his lips released hers, she moaned softly.

  “You kiss so divinely,” she whispered, eyes still closed.

  “This isn’t kissing. This is merely a rehearsal, a prelude.” Then he claimed her mouth again, but this time his tongue slipped between her lips as neatly as a hot knife through butter. He filled her up and she felt his body surge against her.

  Suddenly, it was hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to be conscious of anything but the rapaciousness of his mouth and tongue. He ravaged her, slanting his mouth first one way, then another, never giving her but a fraction of a second in between. Lily realized that both her hands were occupied with him now, one raking through his midnight hair, the other gliding along the shelf of his shoulder to his nape, where his hair felt damp. Tendrils curled around her fingers. She pressed her breasts flat against his chest. She wore no corset, only a silk chemise under her nightgown and wrapper. Her nipples puckered, responding to the proximity of his male flesh.

  He captured her head between his hands and pulled back to gaze intently, ardently, into her face. His breath, ragged and intoxicating, fanned the fine hair at her temples.

  “I want you. So much that I ache. I ache.”

  No man had ever spoken so to her, and Lily couldn’t help but gasp and stare, wide-eyed, at him.

  “Do you hear me? Do you understand what I’m telling you? I want you body and soul, Lily Jane Meeker. Oh, what a preposterous name for such a woman as you. You’re not Lily the Meek. You, my fiery-headed witch, are Lily the Bold. Lily the Lionhearted.”

  She smiled at his foolishness, but loved it all the same. “Shall I roar now?”

  “Just kiss me again.”

  This time the kiss had a fire to it, and Lily felt it catch hold and blaze through her to dissolve her bones. Griffon embraced her, angling her across his chest. Her hand rested on his breastbone, and she could feel the feverish beat of his heart through his clothes. He tore his mouth from hers.

  “If you hate convention as much as I, then you’re ready to snap its leash and do what your heart and body command. You want me, too, don’t you, Lily? From the moment I saw you, I felt at one with you. Spiritually at one. But I want more. So do you. Tell me, Lily. Say it. Say that you do.”

  Her mouth was as dry as kindling. Yes. It burned in her mind, scalded her tongue. Her body sizzled with wanting. He’s right, of course, she thought. Convention and society’s two-faced rules of conduct were totally boring! Here was a man who knew her heart, her mind, and her deepest secret, and he wanted her—not in spite of it all, but because of it!

  “You’re a woman ahead of your time, Lily.” His lips flirted with hers again. “So why be shackled by antiquated social behavior?”

  “Oh, Griffon,” she whispered, trailing her fingers along the bold, exotic planes of his face. The man certainly possessed arguments that swayed her to follow his suggestions. “You’ve awakened in me such—”

  Footfalls sounded in the corridor and then the doorknob rattled. Griffon and Lily had only a moment to right themselves. Lily’s hands flew to her hair, attempting to tame its curling profusion. Griffon shot up from the bed, face flushed, eyes bright with unrequited passion. Orrie stepped inside and her accusing glance fell first on Griffon, then on Lily.

  “What goes here?” she asked. “It’s too late for a gentleman to be calling on a lady—especially in a hotel room with the door closed!”

  Lily ducked her head, appalled that she had an overwhelming need to grin. Being caught in such a fashion should alarm her, shame her! Instead, she was amused, happy that Griffon wasn’t a gentleman in the strictest sense. The ones she’d known were about as interesting as a bucket of hair.

  “Right you are. I do apologize.” Griffon smiled teasingly at Lily and squeezed her hand, releasing her slowly. “Good evening, Lady Lily.” He strode to the door. “And good evening to you, too, Lady Orrie.”

  “Go on with you, you jester you!” Orrie pushed him outside and shut the door. “Lily, you should shield your honor with tougher stuff. What did you think you were doing just now?”

  “Being seduced, and I’m quite sure of it.” Lily lifted herself from the bed, feeling light-headed and overly warm. She opened the window to let in a breeze.

  “Your aunt would faint dead away if she knew what you were letting Mr. Griffon do to you.”

  “He was only kissing me. He wouldn’t have gone any further. Not tonight, anyway.” She arched a brow when Orrie gasped. “Oh, come now. Don’t preach to me when you can hardly stay away from Balthazar for more than a few hours at a time.”

  “Mr. Zar is a gentleman and treats me with respect.”

  Lily tipped up her nose at Orrie’s assertion. “Don’t you tire of the restraints placed on us? Men can flit from saloon to brothel with nary a blemish on their reputations, but women aren’t allowed to even think in bold colors! Our world is white and pastel. We sit upon our pedestals and wish to join the gamboling below, but we can’t because only painted ladies can kick up their heels and dance jigs with gentlemen, who are usually bored with their ladies waiting at home. It’s not fair. Sometimes I want to cast off the rules and codes of conduct and run barefoot in a field of clover, streaming scarlet ribbons behind me, and with nothing but sunlight to cover me.”

  “Hush such talk!” Orrie placed a hand over her heart. “Here I am trying to chaperon you and you’re talking trash. Did Mr. Griffon put such ideas in your head? Honeypot, don’t you know that he’ll say anything to satisfy his lusting? And later he’ll say you misunderstood. Believe me. I’ve been down this road. I know from whence I speak.”

  Laughing, Lily draped an arm around Orrie’s shoulders and pulled her sideways in a fond embrace. They stood at the window, looking up at a star-pocked sky and a half-moon surrounded by hazy light.

  “I shan’t tell Aunt Nan about you gallivanting with Balthazar if you forgive my indiscretion with Griffon.”

  Orrie was a silent for a span of seconds. “Deal.” Then she slipped an arm about Lily’s waist and gave her a hug. “You scamp. You’re getting to be a handful.”

  “I’m becoming your friend instead of your responsibility. That’s good, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but I’ll always feel maternal toward you.” She hugged Lily again. “No m
atter how unfair society’s rules are toward young ladies, you can’t change them. They’re around to protect you. Don’t make a hasty decision you’ll regret later when your head clears. And remember, I was sent along to chaperon you. I mean to, no matter that we’ve become friends. Hear me?”

  “I do believe his eyes are the color of the bluebells in our backyard.” At Orrie’s squeak of distress, Lily laughed and kissed the woman’s rosy cheeks. “Now, now, Orrie. Haven’t I always had a sound head on my shoulders? Don’t you fret. I’m not a starry-eyed scatterbrain.” Then she returned to her stargazing, feeling positively giddy.

  Yes, the same color as those bluebells, Lily decided, gazing into Griffon’s eyes across the Lucky Spoon breakfast table. He didn’t seem to mind her staring at him, so she continued as Balthazar and Orrie carried on a gay patter.

  “Griffon … I say, Griffon!” Balthazar bounced a fist against Griffon’s shoulder to get his attention. “Gathering wool?”

  “Yes, ’fraid so.” Griffon cleared his mind of thoughts of ravishing Lily. “What is it, Zar?”

  “I asked if you planned to go back to the Jeffers place today or if you’ve some other agenda.”

  He took a sip of coffee before he answered. “Actually, I think we all deserve a day of relaxation. Lily’s just back on her feet, and it wouldn’t hurt if I didn’t do anything terribly strenuous for another day. That’ll give my head a chance to right itself completely before I use it again to block another projectile.”

  “Don’t even joke about that,” Lily said with a shudder.

  “Careful, Lily. You’ll make us think you care,” Griffon teased.

  “I do … care.” She glance at him through her lashes and caught his pleased grin.

  “Tomorrow is soon enough to hound the Jefferses again.” Griffon looked at each one in turn. “Sound fair?”

  “Fine with me,” Balthazar said. “I’d feel much better if you’re good and mended before you court danger. What are your plans for once we set foot on the Jefferses’ land?”

  Griffon finished his cup of coffee and fished for coins in his pocket. “Let’s talk of that later.” As he flipped the dollar onto the table, he passed a message with his eyes to Balthazar, getting a sage nod in return. “For now I believe I’ll pack a noonday meal and head for the river. Should be relaxing there. Anyone care to join me?”