Hart's Desire (Pirates & Petticoats Book 1)

by Chloe Flowers

  Why couldn’t he be honorable, loving, and passionate toward her rather than a treacherous, scheming scoundrel trying to goad her into a kiss? Both versions of Landon Hart warred with each other in her mind. She desperately wanted him to be the former, but was terrified that in reality, he was the latter.

  In fact, she was convinced of it.

  “All of them,” she sighed in defeat. “I wish to silence them all.”

  A victorious light gleamed in Landon’s eyes. “Then pay the price, my sweet. A kiss.” He stepped away and clasped his hands behind his back. “Whenever you are ready, then.”

  The conceited lout deliberately moved so she would have to approach him! Well, she could be just as sly. He asked for a kiss, but didn’t specify the kind of kiss he required.

  She would beat him at his own game.

  She closed the distance between them, placed her hands on his shoulders, rose up on her toes and placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

  He lowered his eyebrows. “That was not a kiss. It was a re-enactment of a chicken pecking corn.”

  She smirked and arched a brow. “You said to yield you a kiss and I have done so.”

  “Is that why Garrison desires to take you to wife?” He smirked. “I imagine he must be a simple man with simple desires to require no more than that simple version of a kiss. If it’s the best you can do, then you are his perfect match.”

  She bristled at the insult and angrily shushed the voice in her head. Stepping forward, she threw her arms around his neck and crushed her lips to his, curving her body against his hard, muscular one. In response, Landon’s arms slid down over her waist with a feather light touch. It wasn’t enough. His heady scent threatened to drive away any sanity she had left. She moved one hand down over his chest and around his ribcage, before sliding it up his back to his nape to join her other hand entwined in his hair. Using both arms, she pulled him closer until her breasts lightly pressed against his chest.

  His lips began to move more insistently against hers. Her heart pounded erratically. Her fingers dug into the skin atop his shoulders, and she slipped her tongue tentatively into his mouth. With a soft groan, he crushed her to him.

  A white-hot bolt shot through her body as his tongue responded to hers.

  Tasting. Exploring. Beckoning.

  His hand moved up over her ribs and cupped her breast; his thumb gently rubbed over the peak until it hardened, making her moan softly. The late spring night, leather; blackberry wine, the whisper of fingertips brushing silk, the velvety heat of his lips on hers…all assaulted her senses and weakened her knees. Her thoughts swirled into a reckless whirlwind. The rigid shield of indifference she had fought so hard to place between them this evening suddenly clattered at her feet, useless and spent.

  All the warnings and rules she had given herself, regarding this particular sea captain, had been drowned by a tidal wave too powerful to stop. Her fears, that he would woo her until she succumbed, only to have him leave her behind and disgraced, were no match for the physical lure of the man himself. She had been captured by his seductive charm. Tormented by his hot fiery kisses. Enslaved by the heat and desire his presence stirred in her.

  Captured, tormented, enslaved…but not loved.

  An angry shriek broke through the haze. “Keelan!”

  The undercurrent in her cousin’s voice hit Keelan like an icy torrent. Startled, she gasped and opened her eyes in time to see Doreen whirl and run back toward the ballroom. Worse still, standing there staring with a stony expression on her beautiful face was none other than Annette Camsby.

  She shoved against Landon’s chest and to her surprise, he immediately released her. Appalled, she pressed her trembling fingers against her swollen lips and glanced at him. His expression made her face burn with embarrassment and humiliation.

  It was a look of triumph.

  He’d won.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Something was still not right.

  Everett Garrison’s pain and anger should’ve diminished somewhat when Keelan had agreed to marry him.

  Her presence at his side should be giving him peace.

  Taking the commodore’s daughter should be giving him peace.

  Knowing that soon he’ll take the commodore’s money in the form of Keelan’s dowry should be giving him peace.

  He’d expected it to be easy to help Keelan conform, to be more like Rachel.

  More docile.

  More pliable.

  But instead, Keelan had become more distant over the last few days. She’d taken to spending time in the kitchen house or on rides around the grounds with her maid. He was never able to get her alone.

  He searched the area near the veranda, peeking into corners, and peering at silhouettes in the semi-dark of the moonlight, but didn’t see her anywhere. He headed toward the garden. Had she already fled to her chamber?

  The iron bench wasn’t visible from here, but she seemed to favor that spot. Perhaps she was still there. He reached into his pocket and caressed Rachel’s letter.

  Soft, sweet Rachel.

  So demure, so willing to please him.

  Keelan would learn. He’d help her become the wife Rachel would have been.

  He headed toward the steps leading down to the stone path, which meandered its way across the back lawn, into the garden and toward the iron bench.

  Choking back a sob, Keelan whirled away from Landon Hart and his victorious smirk and ran.

  Arrogant, conceited horse’s ass!

  Angry tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.

  She was an idiot. She’d known from the very beginning that he’d do this to her.

  Landon Hart toyed with her emotions like a sated cat. Hadn't she predicted it? She’d done her best to guard herself against him, tried to discourage him, but her best was as flimsy as ash. He was much more experienced at this game. No doubt, he had played it many times before with other less gullible maidens. The anger welled inside her, along with the ever-present embarrassment and humiliation that always followed an encounter with Landon Hart. Even the cicadas taunted her with their chatter.

  Fool! Fool! Fool! Fool!

  Under the moonlight, the hedges and shrubs shone a silvery-green, casting ebony shadows into the garden. She stopped and sat down hard on the iron bench hidden by the wisteria vines and rubbed her temples, willing her heart to slow and her stomach to settle.

  She had no one to blame but herself. She had been naive. Landon had goaded her into that kiss, and she had played right into his game. The embarrassment made her cheeks burn and her stomach clench.

  “Miss Keelan! Are you all right?” Everett stepped into view.

  “I’m fine. Although I think I drank too much wine,” she said lamely, waving the hand in the general direction of the ballroom.

  “Apparently, so.” There was an icy edge to his voice, “Miss Doreen sought me out with this ridiculous story about you and Hart…”

  Oh no, there would be no discussing Landon Hart. In fact, she would not even utter his name. Her humiliation had reached its zenith, and she was unwilling to revisit it further. Yet, for some odd reason, a giggle escaped and she batted the air as if swatting a giant fly. “Oh Everett, it was only a stupid kiss. He did not think I knew how, you see, so I showed him I could. It was nothing.” Oh dear, why had she said that?

  Everett’s jaw dropped. “Nothing?” He sputtered like a soup pot left to boil too long with its lid on. “Do…do you realize…what you have done? It’s not decent. You have compromised your reputation! Again! I chose to put aside the ignominious circumstances between yourself and Hart after the storm because your safety and well-being had been my foremost concern at the time. But I will tolerate no more of it. Your cousin is already telling anyone who will listen that you were acting like some sort of…of…Jezebel.” His voice echoed sharply throughout the garden. “What will people think? We are engaged to be married, and you are kissing another man like a common whore!”

  For
a moment, she sat in stunned silence. Gentle, serene Dr. Garrison, whom she’d never heard raise his voice in anger, now faced her, his face dark with fury.

  Whore? Jezebel?

  She rose to her feet in outrage, her fists clenched at her sides.

  “How dare you speak to me that way!” She tried to glare at him, but her vision blurred.

  She blinked.

  Now there were two Everetts. The ground was uneven and her head was floating.

  Perhaps it would be best to retire now and discuss this in the morning.

  As she whirled away, she teetered slightly. She was unsure as to the reason why, but suddenly, she had a strong need to release the guilt plying her conscience. Even as her mind silently fumbled to scream an objection, she began to speak, “I think you should reconsider your offer of marriage if you want a wife who loves you, because you should know I do not.” She turned and started for the house then paused to clarify. She turned back, not sure if she spoke clearly enough for the man.

  “Love you, I mean…I don’t. I don’t love you.” Time to go to her room and retire before she got herself into any more trouble with her overactive mouth. Kissing, talking it didn't matter. It was trouble.

  Everett snatched her wrist and twisted it, yanking her back to him. She cried out in pain and tried to pull away again, but his grip was cruel and tight.

  His face darkened and an angry leer sliced his lips open. “I will not reconsider.”

  Keelan’s stomach gave a sick twist. Dr. Garrison had never shown anger or even frustration toward her in the past. Her own actions tonight were deplorable for a woman engaged, but of course, the wine—was mostly to blame. Wicked drink.

  “You’re hurting my wrist.” Her voice shook a little. For the first time since she’d met him, she feared him.

  Dr. Garrison’s face flickered and his expression changed to a more neutral one, although his nostrils flared as he spoke. Releasing her wrist, he took a step back. “I will forgive your little indiscretion tonight. It’s obvious you have had too much to drink. Perhaps it’s best you retire. We can talk in the morning, when your mind is clearer.”

  He nervously glanced toward the veranda. “Allow me to escort you to your chamber.” He gripped her elbow. “We should go up the rear stair. I’ll see you to your room and make sure you are settled, then I will smooth things over down here with your cousin.” He began to steer her to the rear door.

  He could not so easily dismiss her words and lead her away like a misbehaving child. She was not going to allow him to take her inside her quarters, unescorted either. If Landon Hart could so easily toy with her reputation, she could only imagine the story Everett would create about his time within the confines of her bedroom. A wedding would definitely occur sooner rather than later. She straightened and again jerked her arm from his grasp, backing away from him.

  “Dr. Garrison. Everett.” She spoke slowly, both to make sure he understood as well as to avoid slurring her words too much. “I would prefer to go alone. So please, leave me to suffer the consequences in solitude.”

  Everett’s features hardened again. He stepped nearer, bringing his face close to hers. His steely gray eyes had an almost feral sheen. “You know nothing about suffering the consequences of another’s actions. So much tragedy has occurred during the last two years within the Grey family, no?”

  His ominous tone made her pause.

  “I lost my family too, Keelan. I know the heart wrenching pain caused by such a dreadful loss.” He grasped her shoulders and shook his agony into her flesh. “Surely you know your father is dying. When he is gone, you’ll be entirely alone.” He gave her a brief humorless smile. “Until you become my wife.”

  “I refuse to be treated like a possession.” How dare he? “I will not allow anyone to decide how I will live my life. You will find, Dr. Garrison, that I do have a say, and I say no.”

  It could have been the fact that her eccentric father had never bothered enforcing the rules of polite society very often, or that he had always given her an opportunity to offer an opinion in decisions affecting her life. Or, it could have been hearing Everett put a voice to the dark, silent fear roiling in her own mind. If her father died soon, how would she live? Could she really take care of herself? Maybe it was Garrison’s words, maybe it was Hart’s ruthless assault on her pride, or maybe both, that ignited the powder keg in her chest. She'd had enough.

  She balled her fist and punched Everett in the stomach as hard as she could. He doubled over and gasped for breath, then lifted his head and stared at her, slack-jawed.

  The muscles in his jaws tensed and flexed, betraying his effort to control his anger as he straightened. “Your father has apparently neglected his duty to see you properly tutored in the gentler arts, Keelan. Even so, I will maintain my position and accept you as my betrothed. I’ll see to it your father’s estate and his coffers are well supervised, he owes me that much. I'll make sure your transformation from a wanton young woman to a docile wife is successful."

  He spoke through clenched teeth and an icy hush seeped into his voice while his stare bored into her like a spike. “One thing is for certain, my dear, sweet Keelan, you will learn to treat me with more respect.” In the bright light of the moon, his face darkened and he took a step toward her.

  A sudden dread crept into her stomach. What had happened to the Dr. Garrison she knew? In the past, he had always comported himself in a gentlemanly manner. Even a man as passive as Everett must have his limits. She’d obviously pushed him past his. Time to go.

  “Do not turn your back on me!” He reached out and grasped her sleeve. On the edge of panic, she snatched her arm away and to her horror, the seam ripped and separated from her bodice.

  Her heel slipped off the garden path. She teetered for a brief second, then stumbled and fell.

  The quiet night was broken by a savage growl and before Keelan could focus, Everett flew through the air like a spidery rag doll. He crashed into a nearby birdbath. With a muffled groan, he collapsed.

  She tried to scramble to her feet to flee, but her gown had become entangled in her legs. She’d lost a slipper. A choked sob escaped from her throat. Although she struggled to keep her composure, she couldn’t prevent the tears from escaping. Steely arms lifted her from the ground and placed her gently on the bench. A warm hand lifted her foot and replaced her slipper. She opened her eyes to see Landon Hart squatting in front of her.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked quietly while he scanned her tear-streaked face.

  She tried to focus on him. “This is entirely your fault.” She hiccuped. In vain, she tried to tug her tattered sleeve back into place.

  “Yes.” He drew out his handkerchief and dabbed at the tears on her cheeks.

  Through the cloth, she muttered, “Why are you here? You won your infernal kiss, proving that I am weak and stupid around you. I can’t play your game. What more is there?”

  He brought down the handkerchief and studied her intently. “There’s you.”

  She turned her face away, but it didn’t deter him. He blotted another tear and brushed his fingertips along her jawline. She closed her eyes. Why couldn’t he stop tormenting her?

  “Better to admit you don’t love Garrison before the wedding, rather than after, don’t you think?” His voice was low, soothing, almost hypnotic.

  “I had no intention…” She bit her lip, realizing she had let her last secret escape. She stared at her hands and sighed. Her charade had ended; she had nothing to lose by being honest with Landon now. She fiddled with the lace on her torn sleeve and plunged on before she dissolved into a weak, weeping mess.

  “My father is still very, very ill and I believe he fears he will die soon. That has led him to take steps to properly secure my future to his satisfaction. I accepted the marriage proposal from Dr. Garrison to ensure I could live in Charleston and run a shop while he runs his practice. Truthfully, I planned on delaying the nuptials until Papa was well again, or I turned twenty an
d one, or found a more suitable solution.”

  She met Landon’s knowing gaze, then unable to keep eye contact, dropped her chin and stared at her hands again. “But you knew, didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t know for certain until we kissed tonight,” he admitted.

  Puzzled, she peered up at his face. He was even more handsome in the moonlight. He looked like a carved statue. “What do you mean?”

  “You can’t kiss one man like you kissed me when you truly desire another,” he explained, helping her to her feet. “Nor would you have willingly kissed me if you were truly in love with Garrison.”

  A muffled moan drew their attention to the doctor. Thank God he wasn’t dead. He had pushed himself to his hands and knees next to the toppled bird bath. It was a relief to see he was conscious.

  Brushing back a stray curl, Landon ran his fingers along her jaw before cupping her face.

  “You don’t really love Garrison, do you Keelan?”

  She flicked a sideways glance to Everett. He was gone. Good. With any luck, she’d be able to avoid him the rest of the evening. Landon touched her chin and drew her gaze back to his. She was mesmerized by the deep pools in his eyes. “Nay,” she said softly. “I do not love Dr. Garrison.”

  His voice dropped to a low whisper, “What about me, Keelan? Will you deny your desire to be with me, even when your lips tell me otherwise?”

  She studied his face intently. Did he jest? Was he looking for another conquest? Didn’t he realize he had conquered her weeks ago? Did it matter to him what she desired? He trespassed upon her dreams at night and preoccupied her thoughts during the day. Sure, she tried to convince herself for weeks it was all simply a girlish fascination and lust for adventure, rather than actual feelings for him. However, would she desire Everett were he in this captain’s shoes?

  No, she wouldn’t.

  Damn him. Damn her pride. It was time to leave it behind her and be honest. Her heart was already too damaged to bother protecting it anymore.