When she received no invitation to join him, Lauren seated herself beside Jason and nervously smoothed the skirt of her gown. She had planned what she wanted to say; she intended to end his claim to her once and for all. Yet she was reluctant to disturb the peaceful silence. Silvery darkness surrounded them, while stars shone with brilliant intensity, lacing the sky like interwoven strings of diamonds. The night was warm and still, with only the hum of crickets and the deep, resonant croak of a bullfrog to provide a backdrop to the beating of her heart.
Wondering why he remained so silent, Lauren glanced up at Jason. His strong profile was etched in moonlight, his expression schooled into impassivity. She placed a hand on his sleeve and was surprised by the tension she felt flowing beneath her fingers.
"I promised you a night," she said quietly. She could hear the momentary cessation of Jason's breathing, but he didn't respond. Slowly she reached up to unfasten the buttons on the front of her gown.
"That's far enough, Lauren." His voice was low and taut, as if he didn't trust himself to speak.
Her hand stilled as she searched his face. His jaw was clamped, while a muscle flexed beneath the surface.
"But I intend to repay you for saving my life."
"I was afraid you would reach that conclusion. I'll have to decline, I'm afraid."
Faintly bewildered, Lauren stared up at him. "You saved my life. I don't want that hanging on my conscience."
Jason muttered a soft oath as he rose to his feet and stalked off a few paces, flexing his fists. Lauren's gaze followed him. She could sense the tight control he exercised over himself, could hear the tension in his voice when he said, "You don't owe me, Lauren. And certainly not for preventing you from being taken captive. I would have done the same for a stranger."
Lauren rose slowly, keeping her attention fixed on Jason. "Those Indians would not have taken us captive. Ben Howard was going to shoot me first and then himself." She heard Jason's sharp intake of breath before he turned to face her. "So you did save my life, Jason. Just as you once provided me with the means to escape my guardian. And I'm indebted to you, whether you admit it or not. I should like to cancel that debt once and for all."
She reached up and loosened her hair from its pins, then shook her head, sending the gleaming tresses flowing down her back. Jason thought she looked like some pagan goddess offering herself to the moon. Her pale skin reflected the luminous rays, while her shimmering hair shone more silver than gold. It required a great effort for him to relax the rigid muscles of his fists.
"Well?" she challenged. "What are you waiting for? Are the terms not to your liking?"
He raked a hand through his hair, as if he were fighting for control. "No, the terms aren't to my liking. But I would refuse them under any conditions. I have no intention of bargaining for your body again."
Lauren raised her chin stiffly. "You were willing enough before."
"When I thought I was one among many who sought your favors, yes."
"Very well, so you won't accept payment for saving my life. But I still owe you one night."
"I don't intend to hold you to our bargain."
Lauren felt a flush of humiliation creep into her cheeks. It had never occurred to her that Jason would refuse her or that she would have to beg him to make love to her. "Don't you want me?" she said in a small voice. "You refused to take any money in payment—"
"Of course I want you," he returned thickly. "More than I've ever wanted any woman." He moved closer, as if he couldn't help himself. Placing a finger under her chin, he tilted her face up. "Understand me, Lauren," he said softly, hoarsely. "It isn't you I'm rejecting. You threaten my very sanity with your beauty. I ache with wanting you, with wanting to stir that singular fire in you. But I won't take you in order to settle some imagined debt."
Lauren stared up at him, into eyes that glinted like molten silver, and a familiar shiver of awareness ran through her. His warmth was overwhelming her senses again, stirring an urgent hunger within her. She knew then that she had been deceiving herself. She wanted Jason to touch her, to caress her as he had before. She wanted his hard body pressing against hers, his heat enveloping her. She wanted him, with a fierceness that shocked her.
"But what if," she asked breathlessly, "I said that I wanted you as well?" That much was true. Her blood was racing at his nearness, her body throbbing with need.
His hesitation was perceptible. "I would be honored . . . and pleased by your honesty. But it wouldn't make any difference. I won't make love to you."
He stepped back a pace then, putting a safer distance between them, and the finality in his action moved Lauren to anger. "I swear I don't understand you!" she exclaimed. "I've been offered a fortune for what you just refused."
The corners of Jason's mouth twitched. "I don't doubt it. I offered you one myself, you will recall."
Lauren's temper soared when she heard the laughter in his voice. "Was I too immodest, is that it?" she said sarcastically. "Do you prefer your women more reluctant?"
"No, Cat-eyes, but I have a responsibility toward you now."
"That's precisely what I'm trying to end."
"Sweetheart, what kind of guardian seduces his own ward?"
That gave her pause. Staring at him, Lauren realized Jason intended to take his self-imposed role seriously. But then she mentally dismissed his claim of guardianship. Perhaps he was the trustee for the Carlin Line, but he had no right to control her. No man had that right. "You aren't my guardian," she replied tightly. "I don't acknowledge your authority."
"Even so, a gentleman doesn't make love to young females of good breeding—especially not one under his protection— without benefit of marriage."
"I didn't expect you of all people to give me a lecture on morality."
Jason slanted her an odd look before he returned to his station under the cottonwood. Lowering himself to the ground, he stretched his long frame upon the grass and propped his head up with his hand. "I said nothing of morals, Lauren," he finally replied. "But I rather fancy passing my name on to my children."
"What are you talking about?"
"Illegitimacy has always had a certain . . . stigma, wouldn't you say?"
Startled, Lauren glanced down at him. Did his question mean that he knew about her past after all? He was watching her intently, his gaze seeming to bare her soul.
"If I recall," Jason said slowly, "you weren't exactly overjoyed by the prospect of marriage to me. You drugged me the first time I proposed. I presume you haven't changed your mind?" When she didn't reply, he smiled faintly. "And I have no wish to sire any bye-blows, no matter how much I desire you. We therefore find ourselves at an impasse, wouldn't you say?"
Lauren let out her breath, realizing that he wasn't talking about her own illegitimacy. Trying to seem nonchalant, she shrugged her shoulders. "I know how to prevent pregnancy."
Jason raised an eyebrow. "And you came prepared?" His teeth flashed in a maddening grin. "I didn't think so. Therefore, it will have to be abstinence. But my frustration will be far easier to bear, now that I know you're suffering as well."
"I'm not suffering! Except perhaps because I must endure the dubious pleasure of your company."
"No one is forcing you, sweetheart. You can always find your way back to camp."
Lauren fell silent. Was he sending her away, or was he merely reminding her she had a choice? She couldn't tell by his expression. Well, she would choose. With a stubborn twitch of her skirts, she sank down upon the grass.
She refused to acknowledge Jason's chuckle. But even though his amusement annoyed her, she was unaccountably relieved that he had refused her as payment for saving her life. Somehow it would have cheapened the value of her offer had she given herself to him under those terms. And more obscurely, she realized that such intimate physical contact would only have served to strengthen the bond that seemed to be developing between them, and it wouldn't do to become too dependent on him.
Yet she didn't w
ant to be alone just now. Pillowing her head on her arm, Lauren settled herself beneath the star-filled sky. The quiet of the night swept over her, filling her with a strange peace. Her contentment, though, had less to do with the beauty of the night, she knew, than because Jason was near. She could feel his warmth, his strength, even across the space that divided them.
After a time, Lauren turned her head so that she could see Jason. He was pulling idly at a blade of grass, but he was still watching her. Lauren's pulse quickened when she saw his gaze fixed on the curve of her bosom. She knew instinctively that he was remembering what was hidden beneath her cotton bodice.
She stirred as a responsive tightening of her nipples caught her by surprise. The memory of Jason's hands cupping her breasts, his mouth working magic, returned to her with stunning clarity.
Her slight movement elicited a similar reaction in Jason, for he shifted slightly, his eyes dropping the length of her body. The hot sweep of his gaze sent a sharp thrill through Lauren. She could sense if not see the sudden flare of undisguised lust in his eyes, and realized that Jason wasn't as indifferent as he pretended. For a brief moment, she even wondered if he would change his mind about making love to her. But she knew he wouldn't touch her again unless . . . unless what? What was it he expected of her?
She would have to consider it.
Chapter Twelve
Lauren buried more deeply under the blanket to ward off the early morning chill. Remembering vaguely that Jason had carried her back to camp sometime before dawn, she recalled that he had kissed her then—no more than a soft brush of his lips, but his warm mouth had stirred memories of that night in his cabin when he had made love to her. The resultant dream she had experienced had left her body flushed and aching.
It didn't help her equilibrium either when she opened her eyes to find Jason standing half-naked only a few yards away. He was engaged in the very masculine, very personal, and very intimate act of shaving. He must already have washed in the stream, she decided, for he wore no shirt, and drops of water on his bare back and shoulders sparkled in the morning sunlight.
The blatant sensual appeal of his magnificent physique held her spellbound. She watched the play of hard muscles beneath smooth bronzed flesh, and in spite of the chill, felt herself growing warm.
As if he sensed her absorption, Jason glanced over his shoulder. When he met her gaze, Lauren was unable to look away. She was caught by the magnetic attraction of those startingly blue eyes.
"Good morning." His tone was soft, amused, and it brought Lauren to her senses, making her realize how intently she had been staring.
She blushed hotly as she threw off her blanket and rose abruptly. She avoided looking at Jason as she went to kneel beside the stream, and after twisting her hair on top of her head, splashed water on her face, trying to cool her flushed skin.
She heard Jason's chuckle before she realized that he had come to stand beside her. Lauren lifted her head slowly, her gaze rising from his soft leather moccasins to the deerskin trousers that encased his long, steel-muscled legs and lean hips. Her eyes widened to see the strong bulge below the waistband of his pants, for it left no doubt of his virility. They widened further when she looked up to see Jason grinning down at her. His face was clean-shaven, his hair damp and curling. The sparkle in his eyes was half humorous, half mocking.
"It doesn't help, does it?" he taunted softly.
Embarrassed color stained Lauren's cheeks as she realized he had read her thoughts. "I am sure I don't know what you mean," she managed to respond with dignity.
"Oh, I think you do, my sweet." Jason's voice lowered to a husky murmur as his eyes held hers. "And there's only one way to cool your blood—and mine. Let me know if the strain proves too great." He turned away before Lauren could find her tongue.
She clenched her teeth as she returned to her ablutions. Cool her blood, indeed! Did he think she had no control over her own body's responses?
Lauren stayed by the stream until all trace of warmth was gone. By the time she rose, her teeth were chattering and her lips were tinged a faint blue.
When she returned to camp, Jason was occupied with making breakfast. He surveyed her appearance and shook his head knowingly. "Come over here by the fire, sweetheart, before you turn to ice." His tone was so innocently considerate that Lauren felt a strong urge to slap him.
She shot Jason a resentful look as she retrieved a comb and some hairpins from her saddlebag, then settled herself on a log before the fire. "You and Howard should collaborate," she suggested with exaggerated sweetness. "Perhaps together the two of you might achieve a more original description of me.
Jason poured out a cup of coffee and offered it to her. "Howard thought you a cold fish, did he?"
"He did not—" she began. Then looking around her, Lauren realized they were alone. "Where is Mr. Howard?" she asked, sipping gratefully on the steaming brew.
"Do you miss him already, or are you merely afraid to be alone with me?"
There were blue devils dancing in Jason's eyes, and his levity annoyed her. "Neither," Lauren returned, giving him a frown that was intended to quell his marvelously high spirits. "I merely wondered where he had gone."
Jason went down on one knee to feed the fire with broken branches. "He's on his way back to New Orleans. A man who earns his living can't afford to sleep away the morning like a certain heiress we both know." Jason glanced up from his task and laughed softly at Lauren's rigid expression. "Don't be concerned that you might be indebted to me for his salary. I plan to take his fee from your inheritance."
"Why didn't we go with him?" she asked as Jason returned to his task.
"I thought we would make a more leisurely journey. Snatching a few hours' sleep each night with no time even for a proper shave isn't my idea of comfort."
He seemed determined to provoke her this morning, Lauren decided as she studied the top of Jason's tawny head. Well, she wouldn't allow him the satisfaction. She would remain calm and serene . . . and get some of her own back.
Her lips curved in a smile as she set down her cup and began to use the comb on her hair. "Did you think to ask Mr. Howard what payment I had promised him for his services?" she asked provocatively.
"Oh, no, my girl. I'll not fall into that trap again."
"Just so you understand that I'm not a . . . a strumpet. You didn't believe me when I said you were the only one who had made love to me."
"Oh, I believed you, all right. Unfortunately, that was after you had told me about your job at the casino. By that time the damage had been done."
Her comb came to a halt. "But why did you get so angry?" she asked, puzzled. "That didn't make sense, particularly when you had just declared you were jealous of anyone who touched me. Why would you be angry to learn that I was innocent?"
"You're clever enough to figure that out."
"I suppose," Lauren said slowly as she began to comb her hair again, "that you felt guilty for taking advantage of me."
Jason raised an eyebrow, his eyes brimming with teasing laughter. "Take advantage of you, sweetheart, when you beat me at my own game? Not once but twice now? I will say one thing, I've learned not to underestimate you."
Lauren frowned. "Then you didn't feel guilty?"
"I felt guilty as hell for treating you so savagely. But that isn't why I was angry."
"Well then, was it because you thought Lila might find out?"
"No. In fact, she gave me her blessing."
"She did what?" Lauren regarded him with horror. "You didn't tell her!"
The grin Jason flashed her was positively wicked. "Tell her that you threw yourself into my arms and into my bed? That you couldn't resist me, charming devil that I am? That you lured me with your seductive wiles till I was mad with desire for you?"
In spite of her resolve, Lauren lost her careful poise. "That isn't what happened! You kidnapped me and forced me on board your ship. You pressured me into feeling guilty because I had reneged on our original
bargain. You insulted me by throwing a bag of gold at me, saying I looked and behaved like a . . . a . . . trollop!" Her voice rose. "You duped me into believing you cared what happened to me. Then you pretended to know nothing of my guardian and left me a prisoner on your ship, without a stitch of—"
"You deserved it all you know," Jason interjected casually. "And it's your ship."
Lauren gave him a startled look. "Mine?"
"The Siren, named after you, by the way. One of the Carlin Line, along with some thirty-odd others."
"And you made me lose my temper," she added lamely, her thoughts spinning.
Jason smiled. "And that, I suppose, is the greatest of all my sins? But at least now you don't at all resemble a cold fish, mayhap a fishwife. . . ."
Lauren hardly heard the jibe. She hadn't yet wanted to face the problem of what to do with the Carlin inheritance. She would refuse to accept it, of course; the Line had caused too much bloodshed and heartache already. Besides, she was capable of supporting herself now. But her more serious problem was Jason himself. It seemed that he truly meant to set himself up as her guardian, yet she had no intention of letting him dictate to her.
She caught her lower lip between her teeth. "You realize, of course, that the idea of you being my guardian is perfectly ridiculous."
"I quite agree. I would far rather be your husband."
There was a long, shocked silence.
Looking up, Jason blandly met Lauren's startled gaze. "And not," he said with emphasis, "because I'm after your inheritance. I do have some wealth of my own—certainly enough to deny the charge of being a fortune hunter."
Hoping that he was jesting, Lauren made a desperate attempt at recovery. "Are you pursuing me, Mr. Stuart?"
"Are you running, Miss DeVries?"
Lauren raised a hand to her brow, wondering why all her encounters with Jason left her breathless and shaken. "You are deliberately trying to confuse me."
"Not at all." Then he added casually, "We could be married as soon as we return to New Orleans."
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