Southern Seduction

by Brenda Jernigan

  “I can’t very well evict her from her own house now, can I?”

  D’Aquin’s face turned beet red. “What about my daughter?”

  “What about her?”

  “Do I need to remind you that you are engaged to my daughter?”

  Travis was fast losing his temper. He was getting fed up with both men badgering him. He was old enough to make his own decisions, even if this situation hadn’t been exactly his own. “I suggest you get out of my face,” Travis warned him. He then left the man gaping after him as he stormed down the stairs and out into the flower garden. Did the old bastard think he was going to bow down and beg his forgiveness?”

  If he did, the old man was delusional.

  Brooke was tired of dancing.

  She was also tired of smiling and making polite conversation. The only sure place she knew to escape was outside. At least, there she could get some fresh air and rest a moment before rejoining the party.

  Thank goodness, she’d escaped without an escort, Brooke thought as she walked down the veranda steps to the gardens. A slight breeze caressed her skin, a refreshing relief after the hot and stuffy ballroom. Torches that had been placed throughout the flower garden provided just enough light that she didn’t trip.

  When she reached the rose bed, she leaned down to smell a perfect red rosebud. She wasn’t disappointed with the light rose scent. Soon, the weather would turn cold and there wouldn’t be any more roses until spring.

  Carefully, she snapped the stem, but a thorn caught her finger and she yelped.

  “Sometimes, you have to be wary of beautiful things.”

  Brooke jumped, startled at the voice coming from what seemed like nowhere.

  She swung around. “Must you always appear out of the darkness to scare me?” she tossed back at him. Not waiting for Travis’s reply, she moved over the gray stone bench and sat down, the rose still clasped in her fingers. She remembered seeing Travis a few times across the room as she’d danced, and she was puzzled why he’d not waltzed with her again. However, he didn’t seem to have a problem dancing with another lovely lady who’d laughed at everything he’d said. Strange, she’d never found anything he said particularly amusing.

  For the first time in her life, Brooke found she was jealous. And she didn’t like that feeling.

  Travis moved closer. “I just can’t seem to get rid of you.”

  “Apparently, I was here first,” she was quick to point out. “What are you doing out here ignoring all our guests?”

  “I might ask you the same thing,” Travis shot back.

  Evidently he was in the same mood as she, Brooke thought by his tone. “I needed some fresh air,” she finally said.

  Travis propped a booted foot up on the stone bench and leaned his forearm across his knee. “The air is much better out here, I admit, but I figured you loved parties and would want to enjoy every moment.”

  She gazed up into his cool blue eyes, which looked much darker in the dim light . . . and stormy. “There you go again, trying to figure me out. And, as usual, you’re wrong.”

  “Wrong,” Travis repeated with a mocking smile. “I seem to recall that you were having a marvelous time, dancing with every man in attendance.”

  Brooke couldn’t believe what she was hearing, not that Travis had actually noticed anything at all about her. “So you were counting?”

  “Not necessarily counting,” he said. “Just being observant.”

  “You could have very easily asked me to dance again. Or were you too busy with more important things?”

  “And ruin your fun of capturing every man’s heart?” he said as he straightened and glared down at her.

  Well, this conversation wasn’t turning out as expected, Brooke thought. He didn’t look in the mood to be seduced. He was angry.

  No, Travis was jealous!

  And that notion pleased her immensely. “So, why did you come out here, Travis? Surely it wasn’t to irritate me.”

  Instead of answering, he lit a cheroot. He inhaled then blew out a white puff of smoke that circled and floated up into the air. “I needed to calm down after speaking with Hesione’s father.”

  Brooke’s curiosity was piqued and she arched an eyebrow in question. She wondered if Travis would reveal any of the conversation.

  “He doesn’t seem to be a very pleasant man.”

  “More like a pain in the ass,” Travis snapped, and then added, “Pardon me.”

  Brooke had to laugh. He’d never been that concerned about proprieties before. “What did he want?”

  “He wanted me to get rid of you,” Travis informed her.

  Brooke pushed to her feet. “Well he has some gall. I’m sure you told him that you wish you could.”

  Travis gave her a slow smile. Brooke’s eyes reminded him of an angry cat the way they glittered in the sparse light, and at this very moment they were full of fight. He liked that. What would it be like to tame this wild tiger before him?

  Without another word he pulled her to him.

  “What are you doing?”

  He noticed she didn’t put up much of a fight. “The very thing I’ve wanted to do since I saw you coming down the stairs tonight,” he said softly. “I’ll not have you flirting with other men in my house.”

  “It’s my house, too,” she informed him as she always did.

  “I hate you.”

  Brooke gave him a sweet smile before she purred, “I know.” Then she reached up and placed a feathery kiss on his lips. Apparently, that had much more effect on him than a slap on the face.

  His warm breath mingled with hers, but Brooke sensed that Travis was trying desperately to resist her. Too bad, she thought. She removed the cheroot from his hand and tossed it away. Then she slid her hands inside his jacket and felt his chest muscles tense and his short intake of breath. “I believe you said earlier about wanting to do something. “Do you want to show me what that something is?”

  Chapter Nine

  Travis’s jaw tightened. “Damn you.”

  Roughly, he jerked Brooke into his arms. His mouth claimed hers before she had a chance to say anything. Slowly, his lips parted hers. She dropped her head back and moaned as she felt his tongue, wet and hot, enter her mouth in a devouring kiss.

  Immediately, fire roared through Brooke’s blood from the wild excitement of his mouth on hers. His hands shifted possessively across her back as he kissed and caressed her with very skillful hands.

  Finally, she thought. She hadn’t lost her touch.

  She’d merely been rusty, that’s all. He was doing just what she wanted him to do.

  The seduction of Travis Montgomery was going to be pure pleasure. She would make him beg before the night was through.

  Molding herself to his body, Brooke became aware of Travis’s hot masculinity throbbing against her belly. Knowing she needed to shatter the hard shell he’d built around himself, she touched her tongue to his, giving into the passion of the kiss.

  Travis went rigid.

  Brooke pressed her advantage, teasing his tongue with wild and free abandonment as she gave of herself for the first time in her life. Before, she had been merely going through the motions but never felt anything.

  A needed hunger that had long lay dormant sprang to life and made Brooke want to strip off both their clothes and make love to Travis. What a powerful opponent she’d chosen. Now she understood what lust was, having seen it in many men’s eyes. She was lusting after the only man who had the capability of producing this wild heat between her legs.

  She couldn’t deny the evidence any longer. She wanted Travis Montgomery.

  Travis tore his lips from Brooke’s and placed kisses down her throat, moving to Brooke’s cleavage, something he’d yearned to touch all night. Damn this woman, he thought. She’d somehow managed to rouse his passion and other parts of his body, as well. He tugged on her bodice, and her breasts sprang free of their restraints, and surged at the intimacy of his touch.

 
Wasting little time, he fondled her breasts and teased her nipples with his fingers, preparing them for his love-starved mouth. He intended to suck each nipple until she cried out his name.

  I’ve found heaven, he thought.

  “What is the meaning of this?” a voice shot out of nowhere.

  Travis jerked up, startled by the sudden intrusion. Slowly, he turned, hiding Brooke behind him as Travis faced the intruder he was ready to murder for this interruption.

  “I knew she was a whore the moment I saw her!” George D’Aquin shouted.

  Protected behind Travis, Brooke cringed as she crossed her arms to cover her bare breasts. She didn’t need to be caught like this. Her reputation would be ruined.

  “If you want to live to see another day,” Travis warned. “You’ll apologize to Mrs. Hammond.”

  “I will do no such thing,” D’Aquin informed him. “Have you forgotten that you are engaged to my daughter? Apparently so,” he answered his own question with a wave of his hand. “I find you out here with another woman in your arms,” he shouted with a wild look in his eyes. “You bring disgrace to my family and to yours! Your grandfather shall hear of this immediately!”

  Travis was actually defending her, Brooke though with a pleased smile. She was thankful Travis blocked her from the man’s view as she adjusted the bodice of her gown. Then she tried to move beside him.

  He caught her and shoved her back behind him, saying under his breath, “Stay where you are.” Then he switched his attention back to Hesione’s father.

  Travis resented the old man who had spoken to him as if he were still a child. Is this what his life would be like if he married Hesione? Not only would he have his grandfather and mother hounding him, he’d have D’Aquin and Hesione on his back as well. Not that Travis would pay attention to any of them, but he could certainly do without the constant badgering.

  “You can tell my grandfather anything you wish,” Travis informed his opponent, his voice courteous but patronizing. “But, first, you can start by telling him that I’m no longer betrothed to your daughter.”

  “You cannot do this.” D’Aquin growled. “Your grandfather owes me.”

  Brooke had her hand on Travis’s back, and she felt every tense muscle as he spoke. She listened with growing trepidation.

  “I’m not sure what my grandfather owes you, nor do I care, but I can assure you that Hesione is a free woman,” Travis punctuated each word carefully, before adding, “I am not chattel to be used as money for paying debts. I’m marrying Mrs. Hammond in two weeks. I’ll be sure to send your family an invitation.”

  What? Brooke nearly blurted out, but clamped a hand over her mouth before she could. Travis was going to marry her? She seemed to have missed a step here. Wasn’t she supposed to have convinced him to marry her? She didn’t remember convincing him yet.

  D’Aquin lunged forward and swung at Travis, but Travis quickly stepped aside and caught the older man’s arm.

  Brooke moved away from both men, fearing she’d get caught in their disagreement.

  “I demand satisfaction for this insult to my family!” Even in the dim light, she could see D’Aquin face had reddened.

  Travis released the old man’s arm and snarled through his teeth, “Name the time, place, and weapons.”

  “Pistols at dawn. Who is your second?”

  “Jeremy Dubois.”

  “The arrangements will be made,” D’Aquin told Travis, before storming off.

  “Until tomorrow,” Travis said to D’Aquin’s back.

  Brooke felt nailed to the spot. Travis whirled and glared at her as if everything had been her fault. His eyes were so stormy she couldn’t read them.

  “What just happened?” she finally asked when it became evident he wasn’t going to speak.

  “It seems that I’m going to duel under the Big Oaks tomorrow morning.”

  “But you could get hurt.”

  “I didn’t think you’d give a damn, my dear.” Then he added, “You have little faith.” Travis grasped her elbow firmly. “I could also be killed, and the plantation would be yours just that much faster.”

  “I don’t want it that way,” Brooke admitted.

  “I believe,” he paused, his tongue heavy with sarcasm, “You wanted me to leave the moment you first saw me.”

  “Yes, but alive, not dead.”

  Travis nudged her chin upward with his finger, mockery invading his eyes. “Your concern is touching. If I survive, I assure you I will be very much alive, and I’ll be forced to marry you in two weeks as I told D'Aquin.”

  So Brooke had heard him correctly. Now she had what she wanted, but somehow it wasn’t as satisfying as she'd imagined.

  "What is this? Silence from the condemned?" Travis taunted.

  She really didn't care for his superior attitude. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

  “No. I ask for nothing," he clarified. "I’m telling you that we will marry in two weeks. After all, it's what my father wanted. So Mr. Jeffries should be happy. We can look at it as a business arrangement. After a year, when the obligation is met, you’ll be free.”

  It was a good thing she wasn't the sentimental sort who believed in love, because that was certainly not what she was getting. Travis was making himself very clear on that topic.

  “I thought you wanted to succeed on your own," she reminded him.

  His mouth thinned with displeasure. “The storm destroyed most of our crop. We can't survive another year of just getting by, nor do I want to. There are many people who depend on this plantation for their livelihoods. My father’s money will save the place.”

  Ignoring the mocking voice inside that wondered why she should care, she snapped, "It's always the plantation with you." Brooke twisted away from him. “Is there nothing else?”

  "And what else is there?" he asked her. "If you don't have the land, then you have nothing."

  “What if I don’t want to be free?”

  “Oh, you’ll want your freedom to find someone who loves you," he told her when she looked up at him. Travis regarded her with impassive coldness. "For you see, Brooke, I’m incapable of loving anyone. You’re nothing more than an obstacle on my way toward getting what I really want.”

  Strange, it was exactly what she’d thought of Travis more than once. He was standing in her way of getting what she wanted. However, it didn’t sound that good when it was said to her.

  Brooke knew what he really wanted, and it wasn’t her.

  Each of Travis's words felt like a slap across her face. All these years, she’d been a calculating businesswoman, and now the tables were turned. Nonetheless, she wasn’t going to let him get away with his last remark. Even if he was giving her everything she'd wanted . . . a business arrangement.

  She took a step closer to him, balancing on her toes so she could see into his cold, blue eyes. She whispered, “I don’t think you really know what you want, Travis Montgomery.”

  “That is where you are wrong, my dear. I know exactly what I want,” he gritted out before turning away.

  Brooke watched the arrogant bastard leave, but she was determined to have the last word. “Travis Montgomery, you’ll regret those words one day.”

  Someone woke Brooke by shaking her arm. She opened her eyes to find that it was barely dawn.

  "Look what time it is," Mammy said as she nudged her again. "Wake up, Miz Brooke, you hear."

  Brooke wasn't used to Mammy waking her. When Brooke finally understood and was in some sort of conscious state, she shoved herself up with her elbows. "W--what's wrong?"

  "Mr. Travis done and left fo' de Duelin' Oaks."

  Everything that had happened last night came flooding back to Brooke. Her first thought was to wonder why she should care after the rotten way Travis had proposed marriage. She assumed that after a good night’s sleep everything would have cooled down between the two men.

  Brooke flung back the covers. "I thought maybe they wouldn't go through with the duel. It
isn't as if anyone was hurt," Brooke said, slipping out of bed. She headed for the washstand. "I can't believe they are going to try and shoot each other. Dueling is outlawed in England."

  I probably should let D’Aquin shoot Travis, Brooke thought as she poured water into the washbasin. But then again, she needed him.

  After splashing water on her face, she turned to Mammy, "Where is Millie Anne? I need to get dressed so I can stop this foolishness."

  "I sent her t’ have de carriage ready, figurin' you'd want t’ go t’ de Oaks. I’ll help you dress, but tell you de trut', you ain't goin' t’ stop de duel. And I intend t’ go wit' you. Got me too much time vested in raisin' dat boy t’ see holes shot in him, yes," Mammy said as she pulled out a black skirt and white blouse for Brooke.

  "I hope Eliza isn't going."

  "She is much too youn'. Millie Anne will stay wit’ her."

  Brooke slipped the garment over her head and held it for Mammy to fasten. "Tell me about American duels. There were a few in England, but none that I was privy to. It was considered a crime back home. Are there very many duels fought in New Orleans?"

  "Oui. Youn' men fight over de sli'dest affront fo' such absurd reasons as dere honor. Mos’ happen at soirees such as last nig’t. I hear tell a duel was foug’t fo' the honor of de Mississippi River, yes. In Nawlins ever’bod’ is hot-blooded, yes."

  After Mammy had fastened the last hook, Brooke rushed over to her dresser and snatched a hairbrush and ribbon. "I can brush my hair in the carriage. Let's hurry."

  In no time, they were in the foyer. Mammy handed Brooke a shawl as a servant opened the door. Brooke turned to Mammy, "You don't suppose Travis will get hurt, do you? Is he any good with a pistol?"

  Mammy more or less nudged Brooke out the door, the concern evident in her face. "He's better wit' swords, t’ be sure. Mebee why his opponent choose de pistols."

  "A life is a big price to pay for honor," Brooke commented while she climbed into the carriage.

  "Exactly, what are dey fightin' over?"

  Brooke frowned. She felt guilty and couldn't look Mammy in the eyes, but she had to answer the question. "Me," she whispered softly.