The Wild Belle (St. John Series)

by Lora Thomas

  “And if you hit it?” she asked cautiously.

  “Then you kiss me.”

  Andi’s eyes grew wide. “What?”

  “Well, it’s only fair, Pixie. After all, you did trick me into getting out of that lake unclothed.”

  “Have you ever played before?”

  “Never.”

  “Deal,” Andi replied cockily. She walked over to Michael and took the sack out of his hand. She walked over to the side of the opposite board and tossed the sack. It landed and slid towards the hole. It did not go in. It stopped barely hanging on the edge but blocking the hole.

  “That’s a perfect blocker if I have ever seen one,” Andi bragged.

  Michael just looked at her and then the tossed sack, unsure of the terminology she was using. He bobbed the corn sack up and down in his hand, becoming familiar with its weight. He stood on the opposite side of the board of Andi and stared intently at the target. Taking a slow deep breath, he tossed the corn sack. It sailed over top of Andi’s and landed straight into the hole. A satisfied grin crossed Michael’s face.

  “Not too bad for my first try.” He turned towards Andi and noticed her face grow red with anger. She did not like to lose. “Now, time to pay up.”

  Andi looked nervously around. “Not here, everyone will see.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Well, yeah, my parents would skin you alive,” she replied, storming over to a large pine tree in the far corner of the cleared lot.

  Michael followed her. He watched her backside sway from side-to-side in a tantalizing manner and wondered if she was doing that on purpose. His eyes traveled upward and noticed that her hair was mid-way down her back and was swaying with her hips.

  She looked over her shoulder and ordered, “Well, hurry up and get this over with. Ya think you’d had plenty of kisses with your looks, but I guess not if you’re wantin’ to kiss me.”

  Michael gave a chuckle as he passed Andi and pulled her to the tree. He held her fast in his arms. She tried to pull free, but his muscular arms held her fast.

  “I have had many kisses, but none from lips quite as sensuous as yours.”

  “I think the colonel spiked your drink.”

  “No, my dear. You see, your lips beg to be kissed and kissed often. Have you had many kisses yourself?”

  Andi just stared at the handsome man. Truth be told, no one had ever tried to kiss her. They were afraid of her or put off by her outgoing nature. That thought put sadness in her eyes. She looked up at Michael and her heart began to flutter. This handsome man wanted to kiss her. Before she could respond to his question, he leaned down.

  “Let me show you,” he whispered against her lips.

  His lips gently came to hers, and Andi felt her pulse quicken. He placed several butterfly kisses on her lips until she began to respond back. Her hands moved around his neck, holding him closer. She parted her lips and he deepened the kiss. Andi felt her knees grow weak. Never in all her wildest dreams did she imagine a kiss could affect one like this. She was breathless. All thoughts and reasoning left her mind. All she could think of was exploring this man’s kisses even further.

  Their kiss became more passionate and Michael could feel himself beginning to grow hard. He abruptly ended the kiss and looked down at Andi. His deep breathing was matched by her own. Her green eyes had darkened with passion. Her tongue darted out and licked her lips. Closing his eyes, he took several controlling breaths. Neither one spoke. As he opened his eyes, Michael saw reality suddenly strike Andi. She pushed against his chest with her hands.

  “I have paid my debt, now please release me.”

  Michael released the beauty before him and watched her run towards the tavern. She darted quickly around the building. He took several more deep breaths in an attempt to control his body. Never had he had a kiss affect him the way this one had. Her kisses were intoxicating and he craved more.

  “Michael!” Stephen yelled from the back door of the tavern. “Miiiiiichaelllll!” Stephen yelled with a drawn out slur.

  Taking another controlling breath, Michael exited his hiding spot and walked towards the younger man.

  Stephen’s hands were to his mouth as he began yelling again. “Miiiii—ah, there you are. What were you doing back there? Oh, never mind.” Stephen’s words were slurred.

  “You’re drunk.”

  “Yes, I am,” Stephen answered, stumbling towards Michael. “Now to get you back to Double Oasis before Ott sends the sheriff out looking for us.”

  “I don’t think he would do that,” Michael said. He placed his arm around Stephen in order to keep the younger man from falling.

  “Naw, he wouldn’t. But my mother would. You know I have two sisters.”

  “That’s quite all right. I am not interested in marriage.”

  “Ya sure?” Stephen asked. Before Michael could respond, he continued, “Well, too bad, because I’d love to marry them off to someone.” Stephen laughed overly loud. “Now to escort you back.”

  “I think you are the one in need of an escort.”

  “Quite right, my friend, but I have been drunker than this and managed to find myself home.” A thought then crossed Stephen’s mind. “Aw, I was planning on sneaking into Abigail’s room tonight.” He stumbled into Michael again. “Miss Mandy would smell me before I reached the front gates.”

  “I believe your assumption is correct.”

  “Guess I’ll escort you to the gate and then go to my home. I’ll have to make my lover’s rendezvous some other time. Please give Abigail my excuses.”

  Michael gave a chuckle. “It’s late and I don’t think that would be appropriate, especially if Miss Mandy found me.”

  Stephen’s eyes grew wide. “By George, you’re right! Then they would demand you . . . ,” he said as he poked Michael’s chest with his index finger, “you marry my sweet, sweet Abigail. You know to tell the truth, I originally wanted to court Andrea. That was my whole intention when I started visiting the Double Oasis. But when I spied Abigail picking apples with the sun shining in her hair, I knew she was the one. Besides, who wants a wife who dresses likes a man.”

  “Let’s get you home. I believe ‘soused’ is an understatement of your present condition.”

  Stephen made a funny face as Michael tossed him into the saddle. He sat upright with his lips still puckered, resembling a duck’s beak.

  “Do you know what it’s like to want a woman so badly and not be able to bed her? I’ve tried many times, but Mandy has spies everywhere,” he said, moving his hand in an outward direction. “Only three more weeks.” He held three of his fingers up on his left hand. As he studied his fingers a perplexed look crossed the younger man’s face. He took his right index finger and counted the fingers. “There are three of them up, right?” Michael didn’t have time to answer before his inebriated companion continued. “Yes, I believe there are. Three weeks. That’s what I have to keep telling myself. Just three more weeks.”

  Michael just shook his head.

  The pair rode back towards the plantation. Michael listened, occasionally shaking his head, while Stephen rambled on about his upcoming nuptials and his overly protective mother-in-law-to-be. When they reached the gates to the plantation, Michael bid his companion farewell and rode to the barn. He unsaddled Ghost and placed the horse back into his stall.

  As Michael walked towards the house, his mind returned to Andi. Why did she think they were to be wed? Who was she, really? How could he find her again? She intrigued him. Her curiosity matched with her innocence fascinated him. He could tell from the way she kissed him that she had not been kissed before, but why? She was beautiful. Her long, wavy golden hair had softness to it like Michael had never seen. Her features were breathtaking. Her dark green eyes held intelligence as well as passion. Was it her dress and outgoing nature that the men around here found so unappealing? Michael found it refreshing.

  Michael glanced towards the house and noticed a figure standing on the ups
tairs veranda. The light coming from behind outlined her body. He could not make out who it was, but he knew he had not met her before. She was brushing her hair. He watched as the breeze caught the hem of her gown and it danced. This woman moved differently than the others, she moved with freedom, without a care. He reasoned that this must be Andrea. The woman turned, went back inside and pulled the curtain closed.

  Michael walked into the house and proceeded to his room. When he approached, he noticed the door was open. He sighed with frustration, realizing he had forgotten to jiggle the handle when he left earlier in the evening. When he entered, he found the cat stretched across the bed, sleeping soundly. He walked past the dozing feline, scratching the top of its head, and quickly undressed. Before he climbed into bed, he made sure the door to the veranda was locked. He drifted off to sleep with images of Andi in his mind.

  Chapter Eight

  The next day Michael awoke early, which wasn’t an easy task. After his encounter with Andi, he had a restless night’s sleep. He knew that Ott wanted him to visit with the neighboring plantation owners for business. They would be leaving around nine, but Michael wanted to stretch his legs and clear his mind before they departed. He quickly dressed and headed out the door.

  He walked aimlessly around the outskirts of the plantation yard. His purposeless wandering led him to a small dock. This landing was not as large as the one he arrived at. It resembled more of a small fishing pier than a boat dock. As he approached it, he spotted someone sitting on the dock. The corner of his mouth twitched when he noticed the long, blond-hair dancing in the breeze.

  He silently approached the distracted figure. Andi was sitting on the edge of the dock, holding a long, thin cane pole. The pole suddenly bent downward. Andi pulled the pole up and reached outward, wrapping her fingers around the wiggling bluegill. She removed the fish from the hook. With her free hand, she pulled at a rope and brought a basket out of the water. She placed the fish inside and dropped the basket back into the water. She turned to reach for the small tin bucket behind her to retrieve another worm, but stopped when she noticed Michael standing at the start of the pier.

  The sight of him caused her breath to catch in her chest. She licked her lips nervously and the wind caught a lock of her hair and wrapped it around her face. She captured the stray lock and tucked it behind her ear. She quickly turned away from him and stood up. She pulled the basket from the water again and headed towards Michael.

  “Good morning,” Michael said.

  “Mornin’,” Andi replied, purposely drawing out her southern accent.

  She set the basket down beside a thick post that had a knife sticking in it. Pulling the knife out, she bent over, took a fish out of the basket and placed it on the small wooden table beside the post. She took the knife and stabbed the fish in the gills, killing it. Taking the knife, she began running the rough edge of the blade up the fish, removing its scales. This woman never ceased to amaze him. She dipped the fish into a pail of water, rinsing the scales off, and proceeded to filet the bluegill.

  “Is that your breakfast?” Michael asked as he watched Andi clean another fish.

  “What if it is, Earl?”

  His right eyebrow shot upward. She still insisted he was someone else. He would play her game.

  “You know, I never would picture you as the type to—”

  “This is exactly the type I am. I wear pants, ride astride, hunt and fish. I clean my own prey and eat it, too.” Shaking the knife in his direction, she continued, “And as I told you last night, I am not about to change for you or for anyone.”

  She tossed the fish into an empty bucket and tossed the bloody water into the river. Picking up the bucket of fish, she headed past Michael.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Anywhere I have a desire to go,” she tossed over her shoulder. She could hear his footsteps following her. She looked upward and groaned. She stopped and turned to face him. “I didn’t invite you to come.”

  “This is a free country now, correct?”

  “For some people, just not you. You are not an American.”

  A humorous expression crossed his handsome face. She was a saucy little chit.

  “Don’t you have some place else to be? I mean, we’ll be spendin’ the rest of our lives together. Shouldn’t you be visitin’ your uncle?”

  She thought he was Peterson? Surely he must be mistaken. This woman was not from the right pedigree for Peterson’s family. She was obviously from the wrong circles. Was she an illegitimate child of a nearby plantation owner or the outspoken daughter of an overseer? He had to know more about this beautiful pixie.

  “I would rather be visiting with you.”

  Sighing with frustration, she turned from him. “Well, as I said earlier, you are not invited. So, please leave and go do whatever titled aristocrats like to do.”

  Taking several quick strides, he blocked her path and stopped in front of her. She felt her heart quicken as he tenderly brushed the side of her face with his finger.

  “Why do you reject me so, little pixie?”

  Andi could not answer. Her mind was numb to everything except the feel of his touch.

  He leaded over to her ear and whispered, “I promise you, I am not as horrible as you think I am.”

  Her knees grew weak from the feel of his breath on her flesh. She wanted nothing more than for this man to kiss her again. The second the thought entered her mind, she became disgusted with herself. She darted around him and ran to the tree-lined path, her heart racing—not from the speed of her escape, but from the feelings coursing through her body from his touch.

  For the next three days, Andrea stayed away from her lake and Colonel Red’s, afraid that she would have a run-in with her fiancé again. She stayed either close to the house or assisted Nellie with her day-to-day activities. She had attempted to appear less than ladylike toward him to turn him off, but to no avail. It actually had the opposite effect. He had kissed her, so she assumed that he found her appealing instead of appalling.

  Andrea sighed and decided to take a ride to her lake and cool off with a swim. She quickly exited the house and headed towards the barn. Hezekiah saddled Comet for her and in an instant she raced out the barn towards her lake.

  Swimming always eased her mind, but when she neared the lake she heard voices. “Now who could that be?” she mumbled as she neared. She crept closer to the lake and peered through the trees. She spotted Ashton undressed, standing on the edge of the lake. She could not see who was in the lake, but she was not staying around to find out. If the person in the lake had caught Ashton’s eye and Ashton knew that Andrea had spotted them, she would drag Andrea into her plight to try to force marriage onto some poor unsuspecting soul—especially if the man had money and influence. As she turned to leave, she heard Ashton tell the person that a small dalliance never hurt anyone. Andrea was out of earshot of the man’s reply, but she really didn’t care what he had to say.

  Andrea rode back to the house and handed the Comet’s reins to Hezekiah.

  “That was a quick ride today, Miss Andi. Is somethin’ troublin’ ya?”

  Andi smiled at the man. “No, Hezekiah, I just remembered somethin’ I need ta take care of first,” she answered.

  As she walked back to the house, she saw a rider exit the woods by her lake. The rider was spurring his horse to run at a breakneck speed. She watched as the rider brought his whip down repeatedly over the horse’s backside. Now who would run a horse like that in this heat? She squinted her eyes to get a better view of the rider. Her eyes grew wide when she realized it was Stephen.

  “Why that no good son-of-a-b—” her thoughts stopped in her head as she watched him. Then a realization hit her. “Ashton . . . why you . . . oooooo!” she said, storming to the house. “I’m going to have to have a word with my little sister,” she growled and she went to the sitting room to await Ashton’s return.

  * * * *

  Ott had kept Michael extremely bu
sy for the past three days. Ott had arranged to have several of the other plantation owners come by to listen to Michael’s reasoning as to why they should ship to England using Emerald Shipping. The thought of increasing the price from twenty cents a pound to over one dollar was overly tempting to all. Between the visits and the visitors, he didn’t have an opportunity to go on the search of Andi. When he traveled between plantations, he would glance into nearby fields and meadows in hopes of seeing his pixie. He had even visited the crystal-clear lake last evening in hopes of seeing her again, but to no avail. The only female that surprised him was the pregnant gray cat that somehow always managed to get into his room.

  He knew the Craycrafts had a large family gathering planned for this evening to celebrate the upcoming marriage of Stephen and Abigail. This gathering had been planned well in advance of Michael’s arrival. Ott and Amanda both had invited him to attend, but he declined, stating intimate family gatherings should contain only family, not businessmen. Both accepted his refusal, but Amanda informed him she would have Sally send up a tray for his evening meal.

  Michael looked at the clock. It was still early in the day. The guests for the family gathering would not arrive for several more hours. He looked around his room and stood up from the chair. After an early morning visit to the Petersons—and, thank God, Egbert was not there—Ott informed Michael that he had no more visits planned for the day and that Michael was free to explore the plantation and home at his convenience. Michael declined, stating he would just stay around the home and rest. The heat in the low country was far different from what he was accustomed to and sapped his energy.

  Granted Governor’s Harbour was hot, but his family’s home rested on a hill overlooking the ocean, allowing its cooling breeze to give relief from the sweltering heat of the summer. Michael was rarely in the Caribbean in the summer months. He normally was either traveling on a ship or up north. Here, not only did one have the heat to contend with, but the humidity that clung to the air like a London fog. That combined with the decreased breeze drained Michael’s energy.