Destiny's Daughter

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  She dimpled. "Why thank you, Mr. Boulanger. As a matter of fact, most of them are made right here by our own seamstresses." She gave a little frown. Was he thinking of confiscating her shipment in order to impress his new mistress? Annalisa berated herself for her suspicions. Soon she would be suspecting even old Judge Turnbull, who sat on a settee in the middle of the room drinking her finest whiskey and being charmed by Delia. "Would you care for another drink?"

  Boulanger noticed his empty glass and nodded.

  "I’ll send a maid immediately."

  Moving on, she paused to join Edmond Lafourcade and Jasper Willis, eager for any scraps of information. When she discovered that they were discussing the charms of a certain married woman, she hastily withdrew and moved to the far side of the room.

  When the maid hurried to open the front door, Annalisa glanced up and felt a sudden chill. From her vantage point, she could clearly see Charles Montagnet.

  He had been out of town for several weeks, and with each passing day, she had been feeling more secure. Suddenly her sense of security was shattered. There was no need to look further for the one responsible for threatening Emile Soulet. It had to be Montagnet.

  Glancing around the room, he spotted her and gave a chilling smile. He paused to speak with nearly every man in the room, all the while edging closer to Annalisa. It took nearly an hour before he was at her side.

  Under his breath he whispered, "I’d like to see you in your office."

  "Perhaps tomorrow, when we can have more privacy." Annalisa felt her heartbeat accelerate and fought the lump of fear that clogged her throat. Time. She needed time to think.

  "I’d prefer to talk now." Clamping his hand around her upper arm, he propelled her toward the door.

  Annalisa gave a frantic look around the crowded parlor for Hattie Lee, but couldn’t see her. Then she was being shoved through the open doorway, and hauled roughly along the dim hall.

  Entering her office, Montagnet closed the door and leaned against it, watching Annalisa. In her eagerness to put some distance between them, she took a seat behind her desk.

  "What was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?" Her hands were trembling, and she held them tightly in her lap so he wouldn’t notice.

  In her mind she was once again in the grip of terror, seeing the darkened figure pinning her, tearing her clothes, throwing her to the floor. As Montagnet began to speak, she mentally shook herself, forcing herself to concentrate on what he was saying.

  "I’ve spent the last few weeks in Washington consolidating my base of power." While he spoke, he crossed the room and stood in front of her desk, placing both hands flat on the desktop.

  "What does that mean, Mr. Montagnet?"

  "Charles," he corrected smoothly. "It means that I don’t intend to be the governor’s aide forever. I’m meeting the right people, pulling the right strings. When the time is right, I’ll have the connections I need to move ahead."

  "What does this have to do with me?"

  He smiled, and she felt a chill course along her spine. "It means that I’m already one of the most powerful men in this state. Soon my power will be felt around the country. A business woman like you, who is dependent on the good will of men in high places, would be wise to . . ." He helped himself to a cigar from the box on her desk and waited until she held a light to the tip. Sitting down, he crossed his legs. "... consider taking in a partner." He watched the cloud of smoke curl toward the ceiling, then calmly met her gaze.

  Annalisa’s mind raced. The man was toying with her. The light in his eyes told her he was enjoying the game. "What would my advantage be?"

  "I would use my considerable influence to see that your business ran smoothly."

  "It already does."

  He flicked ash in a crystal ash tray. "In business, one can never be complacent, Miss Montgomery. In the wink of an eye, things could begin to go wrong."

  "You mean shipments of goods could be lost? Our supplies could dwindle?"

  His eyes narrowed. "I believe we understand each other."

  "Just what would our partnership consist of?"

  He stubbed out his cigar. His eyes glittered. "I would use my influence to see that all your shipments were expedited. If there were payoffs needed . . ." He gave her a knowing look. ". . . I’d take care of them. In return I would share half the profits." Before she could make a comment, he added, "And share your bed."

  She froze. That was what he really wanted. Annalisa sat very still. The hatred she felt for this man was a palpable, living thing. She was amazed to hear her voice sounding almost normal. "There are so many lovely women who would be grateful for such an offer, Charles. However, I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse."

  Uncoiling himself from the chair he leaned over her desk to grasp her shoulders so tightly she cried out in pain. "Don’t try that high-and-mighty act with me this time, you little bitch."

  In her mind, Annalisa was again in her darkened office, hearing that raspy voice threatening, Now, you little bitch, you’re going to pay.

  "It was you," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "It was you who attacked me that night here in my office."

  "Can you prove that?"

  Her voice quivered. "I don’t have to. It’s enough that I know, and you know."

  His hands left her shoulders to clutch her throat. Seeing her look of surprise, he lifted her nearly off her feet and tightened his grip until she was gasping for breath. "This is your last chance. Now what do you have to say—partner?"

  The door was kicked open and Chase strode across the room. Abruptly, Montagnet released his grip on Annalisa, and was sent sprawling across the floor. Seeing the chilling look in Chase’s eyes, her attacker came to his knees and began to crawl backward.

  "I don’t like anyone touching my woman," Chase said in that dangerously quiet tone.

  "Your woman?" Montagnet blanched.

  "That’s right." Chase took a step closer, and lifted Montagnet by his shirtfront, so that his face was only inches away. "And if you ever touch her again, I’ll have to kill you."

  Annalisa saw Montagnet reach inside his jacket. Before she could call out a warning, Chase was pointing a gun at the man’s chest. "Give me an excuse to pull the trigger," Chase snarled.

  Montagnet hesitated only a minute, then dropped his hand to his side. "You can’t shoot an unarmed man."

  "Can’t I?" Chase thrust the cold barrel of the gun into Montagnet’s ribs.

  For long minutes, the men faced each other. Chase found himself wishing this brute would go for his gun so he could satisfy his almost overpowering desire to kill him. A blazing fury rolled through him in waves, leaving him itching for revenge.

  "From now on, Montagnet, whenever you have any business to discuss, you come to me. Understand? I’m Miss Montgomery’s new partner."

  Montagnet shot her a look of pure hatred, then turned and stalked from the room without another word.

  When the door slammed behind him, Annalisa slumped into her chair. Coming around the desk, Chase knelt at her feet and clasped her hands in his. They were cold. So cold. He began rubbing them between his big palms, willing heat back into her body. Glancing up at her face, he noted that all the color had drained, leaving her eyes looking too wide and frightened.

  "Thank you," she whispered. "For saving me . . ." She shuddered, and he pressed her hands to his lips, then stared up at her face in shock and disbelief as she added, "... from a most distasteful task."

  It was then that he noticed the little gun lying in her lap, hidden by the soft folds of fabric.

  "If you hadn’t come to my rescue," she said in a soft voice that nearly broke, "I would have had to kill him."

  Chapter Eighteen

  A subtle change had come over Annalisa. Even as Chase studied her pale face, he became aware of it. The naive little waif he’d met on the riverboat was gradually evolving into a strong, capable woman. With each change in her life she was discovering new strengths. She had al
ready accepted with dignity the role into which fate had thrust her after the death of her mother. Next she began assuming the responsibility for the safety of the women who depended on her. And now, despite what must have been a terrifying scene, she had been prepared to defend herself to the death.

  Crossing the room, Chase poured two tumblers of whiskey. Handing one to her, he watched as she downed it in two long swallows. Her eyes burned, but the color began gradually returning to her cheeks.

  "Want another?"

  She shook her head. Satisfied, Chase took the chair opposite her desk and emptied his glass. His pulse rate was steadier now. He couldn’t say the same for his hands.

  He found himself wondering about the emotions this woman aroused in him. When he’d heard Montagnet’s voice outside the door, he’d felt as if a knife had been shoved through his heart. He’d experienced a blind, staggering rage for the man threatening her. He’d wanted to kill him. With more force than necessary Chase shoved back his chair and crossed to the liquor cabinet. As long as he lived, he promised himself, pouring another glass of whiskey, no one and nothing would ever hurt Annalisa.

  Whiskey sloshed over the rim of the glass, staining the floor boards. My God. Could it be that he loved her? Stunned, he stared at her in silence, then drained his glass, waiting for the effects of the liquor to dull the sudden, sharp edge of shock. In the beginning, it may have been simple lust, he admitted logically. But now, his feelings went much deeper. She was so good, always reaching out to those less fortunate. Luther had told him about her visit to Belle Riviere and her attempt to offer her meager savings to the widow Robichaud. Chase loved her for it. She was determined to help others even though it meant involving herself in a dangerous situation. Despite his warning, he knew she wouldn’t back down from her plan to funnel information.

  Everyone who met her loved her. Hattie Lee couldn’t say enough about her goodness. Luther had been completely won over within days. The girls of the house accepted her as a sister. And the men of New Orleans fell over themselves to win her favor. And Chase Masters, who had left a string of broken hearts across the country, was her latest conquest.

  "Montagnet has threatened Emile Soulet," she said.

  With an effort, Chase pulled himself out of his reverie. "How do you know that?"

  "Soulet came to see me. He was afraid, Chase. Genuinely afraid for his life."

  "What’s Montagnet’s plan?"

  "He’s ordered Soulet to hold all my shipments on the docks until they’re personally cleared by Montagnet. Now that I’ve refused his—offer, he’ll see to it that I never get another shipment."

  Chase felt the warmth of the liquor settle low in his stomach, warming him. Now that the immediate threat to Annalisa was over, he could begin to think rationally.

  "We’ll just have to—circumvent the docks for a while."

  "How?"

  "I’ll find men to deliver your shipments through the bayous. They’ll be brought to you after dark." He smiled, and once again she was reminded of a rogue. "The Louisiana bayous have accommodated pirates for a hundred years. Don’t worry about Montagnet."

  There was a knock on the door. From beyond it, Hattie Lee’s voice called, "You’re wanted in the parlor, Annalisa."

  The young woman stood and took a deep breath, pleased that her legs were once again able to hold her weight. With steady hands she thrust the little gun into the pocket of her gown. "I think it’s time I get back to my guests. And I believe you have a poker game starting soon." Her eyes met his, and once again he was reminded of the fire that burned beneath her prim facade. "Thank you, Chase. For everything."

  As she started past him, he stood and caught her wrist, staring down into her lovely face. He needed to touch her, to prove to himself that she was really safe. And yet, he cautioned himself, if he took her in his arms, he wasn’t certain he’d be able to let her go. The feelings that were threatening to swamp him were too strong, too deep, to be satisfied with a single touch, a kiss.

  "I meant what I said to Montagnet." He drew her close against him and marveled at the delicate softness that yielded at his touch. Lowering his mouth to hers, he murmured against her lips, "I’ll kill him if he ever does you any harm."

  The kiss was hot, hungry, hinting of the passion smoldering just below the surface, waiting to erupt. She felt him in every part of her body. The cool flesh of her back began to warm where his hands stroked. Her thighs were pressed to his; her breasts flattened against the wall of his chest. Safe. That was the first thing she thought as he held her. In Chase’s arms, she would always be safe. As he took the kiss deeper, she felt a sudden sexual pull and knew fear. No. In Chase’s arms, there was no safety. Not for her. This gambler had a power over her emotions that no other man could claim. With a single touch, he could set her on fire. The kiss deepened and all thought scattered.

  He gripped her shoulders almost painfully, holding her so close against him she could feel his heartbeat in her own chest. His kiss was hard, bruising, as if to reassure himself that she was real, that she was safe. Then he seemed to realize what he was doing, and the kiss gentled.

  His gentleness was almost her undoing. She swayed against him, seeking his warmth, his strength, absorbing all the tenderness he offered. Clutching the front of his shirt, she drew him closer, needing to feel him warm and vibrant and alive. Such strength. Such tenderness. She would never have enough of him.

  Catching her by the shoulders, he held her a little away from him and felt her breath soft on his cheek. He watched as her look of surprise was replaced with a little frown of uncertainty.

  Slowly she surfaced, and her jumbled thoughts came into focus. "I really do have to get back to the parlor."

  Reluctantly, he released her. At the door she turned, afraid that she had only imagined the repressed passion in that kiss. The look on his face said more than words.

  * * *

  In the privacy of her room, Annalisa hurriedly wrote a note and sealed it, then handed it to a maid with instructions to find Chase Masters immediately.

  There was no time to change from the clothes that she had been wearing to work on her new ledgers. The navy drill skirt and prim white blouse were far too warm for the summer sun, but they would have to do. Her long hair was tied back with a simple ribbon.

  Flying down the stairs, she hurried through the kitchen and had her hand on the doorknob when Hattie Lee’s voice stopped her.

  "There you are. I’ve been looking for you, girl. Come look at our flour. Every sack is crawling with weevils."

  "I don’t have time to examine them now, Hattie Lee. I’ll have to look at them later," Annalisa replied as she opened the door.

  Hattie Lee gave her a puzzled look. "Where you going in such a hurry?"

  "Nowhere."

  The older woman watched as Annalisa lifted her skirts and ran across the back porch, then started across the sloping lawn. That was the fastest trip to nowhere she’d ever seen. Her eyes narrowed. The only other one who ever flew out of here like that was Eulalie, every time she visited the barn. Stunned, Hattie Lee stood as if rooted to the floor. Could Annalisa be rushing off to meet a lover?

  The cause of Annalisa’s haste was already deep into the woods and following the sound of the splashing river just beyond her view. Coming to the willow, she ducked beneath its lacy, low-hanging branches and entered the cool, shaded meeting place.

  At the base of the tree lay a man’s jacket. A little further on, his boots lay scattered. By the water’s edge, his breeches and shirt lay in a heap. Following the sound of splashing, Annalisa shaded her eyes and saw Chase, swimming for from shore. She’d had no reason to worry. Chase Masters would always find something to amuse himself. It was easy to watch the trail of his dark head along the golden waves.

  Sitting on the river bank, she slipped off her shoes and savored the coolness of the water. She envied him his freedom. The one time she had dared to strip off her clothes and swim in the river, she’d been afraid that t
he whole town would line up along the shores to watch. Men, apparently, had no such inhibitions. Chase swam farther and farther from shore, obviously unmindful of how many people passed by.

  Lifting her skirts, she walked along the shallows and felt the cold water lapping at her ankles. How wonderful it felt. How fresh. Watching the path of a water beetle, she laughed when it collided with a leaf and clambered over the side. The beetle continued riding the leaf along the swift current until it was out of sight.

  Glancing up, Annalisa saw that Chase was much closer now. He had stopped swimming and was walking toward her through the deep water. Shaking his head, a spray of water danced around him, and his dark hair glistened damply in the sunlight. As he approached, Annalisa found herself staring in fascination. She had never seen a man undressed before. She never would have believed that a man’s body could be so beautiful. His shoulders were wide and corded with muscles. Dark hair curled on his chest and narrowed to a V below the water. With each step, more of his body was revealed to her, and she found that, despite her sense of modesty, she couldn’t turn away. How was it that she’d never noticed how narrow a man’s waist could be, or how trim and flat his stomach? As Chase drew nearer, Annalisa caught her breath. He was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. His hands were at ease by his sides, trailing water. As he lifted one hand to her, she watched the muscles of his upper arm bunch, then relax. The thought of those same arms around her brought her first flush of color.

  He paused, with the water lapping around his hips. "Come on in. The water’s refreshing."

  "I can’t. I have all these clothes."

  "Take them off."

  She laughed and tried not to let him know that she was staring. "I wish I could. It does feel wonderful against my feet," she said, being careful not to lift her skirts too high.

  "Just take off your skirt and blouse and you can swim in your underthings."

  "Then they’ll be too wet to wear home," she said logically.

  "Then you simply take them off before you pull on your skirt and blouse. No one will be the wiser."