An Inescapable Attraction (The Defiant Hearts Series, Book 3)

by Sydney Jane Baily

  * * *

  Tepid, muddy water closed over Thaddeus's head, filling his nose and ears. Letting the current carry him some distance from the boat, he breached the surface as soon as he guessed it was safe, scanning the swirling water for any sign of Ellie. He spotted her, bobbing along, a short span ahead of him.

  "Ellie," he sputtered, striking out toward her with a fast crawl to close the gap between them. She was paddling, not making much effort but not drowning either.

  When he reached her side, he glanced back at the well-lit boat, hoping it was dark enough that no one would see them until they were so far away that it wouldn't matter.

  "I can't believe you threw me off a boat," she said between gulps of water and air.

  "Stop talking and you can thank me later." He caught hold of her arm and, treading water, rode the current a few moments longer, but he was growing weary and figured Ellie was, too. He headed toward the bank just yards away, but they seemed to be going nowhere fast.

  "Can you swim to shore?" he asked, hoping they wouldn't stay in the water until they hit New Orleans. The idea of Ellie amongst the plethora of loud and sometimes ruthless gambling houses down south sent shards of alarm racing through him.

  "Yes, I can, if you'd let go of me." She yanked at her arm, and he released it.

  Together, they reached the shore, crawling up the bank, glad of the darkness but not the thick mud.

  "Sort of makes your bath back there rather pointless," he remarked, lying on his back, breathing hard. She panted breathlessly next to him. And then, against all odds, she laughed.

  "I suppose it does, but it was nice to be clean while it lasted."

  He thought it was damn nice that no one had shot at them in the past few minutes. Perhaps his plan had worked.

  Thinking of plans, he couldn't restrain himself for one more second from asking her the question that had haunted him for days and miles: "Ellie, why did you jump off the train? Everything was going according to plan."

  "Plan!" she scoffed.

  "What? You don't trust me?"

  She laughed again with less humor. "No, surely not. You just flung me off a boat. And you shoved me on that train and then what? You were most likely going to get yourself killed, and doubtless I'd get captured again, anyway. And if I made it to Boston without you, then what? Do you really think your family would have helped me?"

  "Yes, I do," he said. "Charlotte never understood why you didn't like her in the first place."

  Silence.

  "Ellie?"

  "I'm getting cold. And now I've lost my bag and my coat," she said with bitterness. "What's the rest of your rescue plan?"

  Was that sarcasm in her voice, after he'd gone to all this trouble to get her off that infernal boat? And alive, at that?

  "We can walk back toward the dock and see if Lucky is still where I left her. Then we head to Keokuk?"

  "Why?" she asked.

  "My bag is in a saloon there."

  "Why?"

  "Stop asking that," he said, annoyed that she was so damn critical. "Let's go."

  He got up and hauled her with him. They squelched through more mud until they hit drier dirt, and then they fought their way through the thick greenery before reaching the road.

  In a few minutes, despite the darkness, they found Lucky along with Jo's buggy, both untouched, right where he'd left them, concealed half a mile from the gangplank to the riverboat.

  He didn't know if it was a good sign or a bad one that Jo hadn't yet left, but in his gut, he knew she could take care of herself as she'd been doing all her life. And if he had to, he'd ride back and rescue her, too—if she hadn't returned to The Pork and Swallow by morning.

  Ellie said nothing regarding the gaudy vehicle to which their horse was tethered. She let Thaddeus help her onto Lucky's back like so many times before. As she slumped against him, shivering in the night air, he held her firmly, telling himself it was only to keep her warm. Truth was, it felt better than great to have her back in his arms, even though they were both soaked through and covered with slippery, pungent mud.

  By the time they got back to the saloon, Ellie had nodded off to sleep. Thaddeus felt irritable and frustrated, wanting her in the worst way. Uncomfortable as a cow past milking time, he woke her rudely as he dismounted. Reaching up, he grabbed her by her waist and dragged her down the side of the horse.

  Ellie fell awkwardly against his body. Before he could stop himself, he kissed her soundly with more punishment than pleasure, expressing all the relief and pent-up anger he'd felt during the long days of trailing after her and her infernal captors. She came fully awake in seconds and, surprisingly, kissed him back, turning his ire into full-blown passion.

  When he pulled away, thinking only of taking Ellie upstairs and using Jo's bed, she looked up at him with her large blue eyes and said, "Thanks for the rescue."

  Turning away, she headed for the brightly lit entrance, then glanced back at him. "But don't try to send me off again like that," she scolded, shooting him a smug smile before regally entering the saloon as if she wasn't plastered in mud from head to toe.

  Good God, what a crazy woman!

  Thaddeus paid to have Lucky stabled and then went looking for Ellie.

  Holding court while sitting on a stool in the middle of the dimly lit bar, she had five men paying homage; she held a drink in one of her delicate hands and a handkerchief in the other, with which she'd apparently wiped her dirt-smeared face. Even when a mud-splattered, sopping mess, Ellie radiated something that enchanted a man.

  Despite her outrageous appearance, every man jack no doubt hoped she was a new girl for sale—given her stolen dress, Thaddeus supposed she looked the part, though the feather and hair pins were long gone. He couldn't blame the men for lusting after her. Perhaps they'd all be less captivated if they were on the receiving end of one of her famed, rage-infused tongue-lashings, though those had never dimmed his interest, either.

  "Thaddeus." Someone called out his name.

  He swiveled his gaze to Pete, one of the bartenders who was also Jo's business partner. Nodding his head in greeting, Thaddeus made his way over to the long polished bar, all the while keeping an eye on Ellie.

  They shook hands. Everyone at The Pork and Swallow knew him, which was somewhat unsettling and could be dangerous, but it allowed him access to the upstairs rooms, off limits to anyone not personally invited by Jo or one of her other girls.

  "Someone said you were here earlier, with Miss Josephine."

  Thaddeus nodded, not about to get into a discussion of his private business.

  "This lady," he gestured with his head toward Ellie, "is with me. Can we get a bath and wait for Jo... I mean, Miss Josephine in her room?"

  Pete shrugged. "'S all right with me." And with raised eyebrows, he held up an empty glass.

  Thaddeus nodded, appreciating the bartender as a man of few words and no questions. In one gulp, he drank down the whisky that Pete poured for him. Now to extricate Ellie from her admirers.

  "Excuse me, gents," Thaddeus said, insinuating himself between the men and Ellie's stool. "This lady is going upstairs with me."

  A murmur raced around the room, along with a few protests and a wolf whistle or two.

  "Now, see here, son," began an older man sitting closest, "we hadn't rightly decided with whom this gentle creature was sharing her favors."

  "Sharing my favors?" Ellie repeated, then she blushed, realizing she'd got herself into the middle of a sticky situation.

  "That's right, little lady," said another man, kicking out his chair and standing tall and broad. "Maybe she's going upstairs with me." He looked at Ellie with a wolfish smile that curdled Thaddeus's insides. "I can handle a woman like you and be back down for the next round of drinks."

  Thaddeus wasn't sure that was something the man should be boasting about, but since the fellow had fists like hams, he could say anything he damn well pleased.

  Thaddeus sighed. After the end of a long day
, he didn't intend to get involved in a ridiculous bar fight—at least, not with his fists. Hoping Pete, and Jo, would forgive him for any damage, he pushed his coat aside to reveal his double-action six shooter.

  Ellie's voice cut through the mutterings. "My husband is quite correct, gentlemen. I am going with him."

  Thaddeus thought his ears must have stopped working right. It was the first time she'd brought up the ruse of him being her husband willingly and on her own. And it sounded damn good.

  Instantly, the mood in the saloon changed. Even these men who paid for sex as easily as they paid for a beer respected the sanctimony of marriage. They looked at Thaddeus with newfound respect and relaxed their postures. The ham-fisted man sat back down, though he wore a sour, defeated look on his ruddy face.

  Then she ruined the calm moment: "Besides, I wouldn't share a bed or anything else with any one of you, simply because you bought me a drink," she said, scowling at one man, "or because you loaned me a handkerchief."

  She tossed the aforementioned item at the older man, and it settled over his balding head. "Why, I've never seen such a group of desperate delinquents in my—"

  Thaddeus clamped a hand over her mouth. How else could he stop the rant that could get them both beaten up? He could shoot her, he supposed.

  "Sorry, gents. My wife is feebleminded. Why else would she have gone swimming in the river and made me dive in to rescue her?"

  He half-dragged, half-carried her away from their mostly pitying gazes; a few men, such as ham-fists, glared angrily, so Thaddeus kept her constrained until they reached the stairs. Then he lifted his hand from her mouth.

  "How dare you?" she shrieked.

  "How dare I?" God give him patience. "How dare you? You almost caused a fight, for no good reason."

  She stamped her foot, then headed up the stairs ahead of him, even though she had no idea where she was going. Over her shoulder, she questioned him, "Shouldn't you have been willing to fight for my honor?"

  "Your honor?" He rolled his eyes behind her back. "Darlin', the fight wouldn't have been about that. It would've been because you sauntered into a saloon, dressed like a soggy Jezebel, and toyed with a roomful of men until any one of them would've paid you good money for a few minutes of your time. Then you threw their honest appreciation right back in their teeth."

  He passed her in the hallway and went straight to Jo's room. He hadn't told Ellie of his willing accomplice—yet. Lighting one lamp, then another, he turned as she entered the room after him. Despite everything, he couldn't help grinning at her appearance.

  In the light, she was a disaster and he must be, too, for, after scanning him from head to toe, she smiled back.

  "If I look as bad as you do, how could those men have wanted me?" She shook her head wonderingly.

  He almost told her how—those men had seen past the grime to the shapely woman beneath, and after her gown was off, they wouldn't be looking at the Mississippi mud anyway.

  Instead he said, "I ordered a bath. Let me see if they've got it ready for us."

  He left her standing in the middle of the room, and when he came back, she hadn't moved.

  "Why don't you sit down?" he asked.

  She eyed him, then looked around pointedly. He wasn't sure if she thought herself too good to sit in a saloon girl's bedroom or if she considered herself too dirty.

  "How did your bag get here?" she asked, spying it in the corner.

  "I dropped it off earlier. I needed Josephine's help to rescue you. She provided a distraction on the riverboat."

  Ellie nodded slowly. "That was kind of her."

  Before he could say more, a rap on the open door announced two of the young boys who kept the saloon swept and who carried in alcohol deliveries. Between them, they dragged a long narrow tin bathtub into the middle of the room. They left quickly and came back a few minutes later, each carrying two steaming pails, which they emptied into the tub.

  "Not quite as fancy as Stoddard's bath," Thaddeus remarked.

  "It's fine," she murmured, though she still hadn't moved. "They're very accommodating here, for a saloon, I mean," she added, avoiding his gaze as he studied her through the steam rising from the half-filled tub.

  Thaddeus nodded; it had cost him a few coins to secure hot water, but right now, all he could think about was how he was going to get through the next few minutes without begging. With Ellie unclothed...

  "Why don't you go first?" he offered. "I'll go downstairs and get a drink."

  "No," she said sharply. "I mean, don't go. I'd feel more at ease if you stayed. I keep thinking the Indian or that Blackheart man is going to pop up out of nowhere."

  He nodded; she wasn't going to make this easy on him. But she had been through a lot in a short time, and he must have seemed like the closest thing to security that she had left.

  "I'll just turn my back," he offered. And he did, swiveling around and taking a seat on the edge of Jo's black trunk to keep the bedding clean.

  She laughed. "You've seen it all before, Thaddeus, but I appreciate the gesture."

  He smiled to himself as he stared at the wallpaper stripes of red poppies that he'd never noticed before. But his senses remained on high alert, and his mind imagined everything Ellie was doing behind him.

  He heard her undress, the dancing girl's gown rustling against her before falling with a moist, heavy thud to the floor. He imagined Ellie's toes testing the water before she climbed into the tub. Listening to her splashing a moment, he could easily picture the water sliding over her smooth skin, and he gritted his teeth to stop himself from turning to look.

  In a few minutes, he heard her stand up, imagining her rising like a goddess whom he'd seen in an illustrated book, water dripping off her firm, round breasts. He swallowed. Don't turn around, he repeated to himself.

  "I'm finished," she said from the other side of the room. "Sorry. The water is not very clear anymore."

  "Are you covered?" His voice didn't sound like his own.

  "Yes."

  Gingerly, he turned, trying to keeps his eyes on her face, but practically against his will, his gaze swept over her. She was clutching a medium-sized satin pillow from Jo's bed in front of her, but he could still see the flare of her hips.

  "Christ, Ellie! I'm only human."

  She shrugged, perhaps enjoying the power she held over him. She had to have felt him hard as a rock every time they were on that damned horse. She was playing with fire whether she meant to or not.

  He had a suspicious notion that she meant to, torturing him simply because she could.

  "There must be a robe behind the screen," he said, knowing his voice sounded rough. "Put something on. Anything!"

  She hesitated; he knew how much Ellie Prentice hated taking orders from anyone. But as soon as she moved behind the screen, he sighed and stripped off hurriedly. Then he looked at the brown water; at least it was still warm. It would do. Most of the mud was on his clothes anyway.

  He eased into the bath, thinking it oddly intimate that her naked body had been submerged in the same water moments earlier.

  "Get a grip," he muttered.

  "What was that?" she asked, coming out wrapped in a clinging silk turquoise robe that was miles too long, and clearly outlined the shape of her body beneath. It was not much better than the pillow.

  Despite being in water that was rapidly cooling, his shaft sprung to attention. If he could have sunk all the way under and hidden himself, he would have.

  "Your turn to look away," he said, trying to sound casual.

  She paused, and he thought she scanned the water, but it was too murky for her gaze to penetrate even if she had.

  "I'm going to lie down and close my eyes," she said. "It's been a hellish long day."

  She climbed onto Jo's bed and settled her head delicately on one of the pillows, after giving it a curious sniff. Thaddeus stared at Ellie lying in Jo's bed. God but these were strange circumstances.

  He finished up quickly, makin
g sure he'd removed all the mud from behind his ears, his neck, and his hair. Then he stepped out, grabbing for the hand towel on Jo's wash stand as he did. He could hardly hold it closed around his hips, but a glance over his shoulder told him Ellie's eyelids were already shut.

  Opening the door, he whistled loudly, and in moments, the boys came scrambling up the stairs. He gave them each a penny, and while he pushed, they heaved, dragging the bath out into the hall. Jo would not have appreciated seeing that dirty water in the middle of her elegant, frilly room.

  Pete could come help them from there, Thaddeus decided, yawning widely as he close the door on the scene of silly boys and sloshing water. Looking at Ellie, sprawled peacefully asleep, her lips upturned in a small smile, he thanked God that he'd wrested her from Stoddard. But as he gently climbed in beside her, still wearing the towel around his hips and trying to keep his distance without falling off the bed, he wondered who would protect her from him.

  When his head sunk into the pillow, Thaddeus realized he was utterly knackered and could safely sleep for the first time in days without the worry that someone was going to put a bullet into him. Then he was out as swiftly as a candle flame in a strong wind.

  Chapter 8

  Thaddeus awoke to a hand on his thigh. As he stirred, he imagined he was in a barn again, but then he felt the plushness of the bed under him and took in his surroundings by the light of mid-morning. It was later than he'd intended to stay, but his body and brain still wanted to sleep. Then, gentle fingers grazed his thigh again, and the jolt of energy instigated by the soft touch, plus the instant surge of lust, made further sleep out of the question.

  He turned his head to see Ellie's pale blue eyes blinking at him. She smiled sleepily and ran her palm up and down his leg. His towel had come off while he slept and was bunched up beside him. The robe she wore had fallen open, barely held on by a loose belt. He noticed his own hand already rested on her hip.

  Raising it, he ran his fingertips over the curve of her exposed breasts, one then the other, and watched, fascinated, as her nipples hardened into rosy buds.