He took a step closer, and his pants brushed the material of her dress. Flutters danced in her chest. Up this close she couldn’t stop from letting her gaze fall to his open shirt. Just like she’d thought, his bare chest looked entirely too smooth with only a small patch of hair sprinkled across his skin.
Oh, good heavens. It wasn’t wise to stand so close or to look at him this way.
He tilted his head to the side. “Miss Landon, you weren’t trying to get me to tell you if I was with a woman last night, were you?”
“Oh! How dare you insinuate—”
“Sweetheart, the proof is written on your flushed face.” His knuckles brushed her cheek.
She quickly swatted his hand away. “Don’t touch me,” she growled. The heat from his fingers burned her skin and made butterflies dance in her belly. This feeling was not acceptable. How could she continue to play the part of a spoiled rich girl if she couldn’t think straight?
He raised his hand to his forehead in a mock salute then bowed. “Your wish is my command, my lady.”
My lady? Why did he keep calling her that? Unless, the only rich girls he knew were from titled families. But it didn’t matter. The name didn’t sit well with her at all.
She threw him a glare and then turned toward her trunk. “Here are my things.”
His gaze moved from the trunk to her, before he howled with laughter. “You cannot be serious. Do you actually think I’ll allow you to take this on our trek?”
“But of course.”
“We’re going through the jungle, Miss Landon, not to a weekend picnic at the estate of one of your high society friends.”
Once again, she felt the urge to correct him, to let him know she was poorer than most people he’d met, but the awakening demon inside her couldn’t resist teasing him. It would certainly become more entertaining by just playing along and pretending she was someone different.
“But I need everything I packed,” she said with a slight whine.
He tilted his head and scratched his chin. “Did you not receive the list I had sent to your hotel room yesterday?”
“Of course I received it.”
“Did you pack everything on that list?”
She shrugged. “Well, not exactly—”
“What’s in your trunk?”
“My clothes and some personal items.”
“What kind of personal items?”
Her cheeks burned from his improper question. “That, Mr. Knightly, is none of your business.”
“Fine. What kind of clothes did you bring?”
His gaze skimmed over her attire from the round neck of her blue day dress, down to the hem that barely covered her woman’s boots. She shivered from his close scrutiny.
“I brought my dresses—”
“Your dresses?” His voice rose. “How foolish can you be? Fancy dresses do not belong in the jungle.”
She huffed indignantly, placing her hands on her hips. “Then what pray tell, oh knowledgeable-master-of-all-things, am I supposed to wear?”
“Men’s trousers and shirts, of course. The very things on the list I gave you.”
She released an unladylike snort. “Men’s clothing will not match well with my fancy high-heeled boots.”
He rolled his eyes. “No, my lady, that’s why you’ll wear men’s boots.”
She laughed loudly, trying to hide her excitement. Thank goodness he didn’t want her wearing the stiff, new dresses she’d purchased before this trip, and especially the heeled boots she had on now. She’d love nothing more than to be in comfortable clothing, but she couldn’t let him know that. “Ha! You can’t possibly expect me to wear those.”
“Actually, I do.” He took a step closer. “And you have exactly one hour to collect the proper clothing or I’m calling off our excursion.”
His hot breath blew across her face. He was correct when he told her he hadn’t been drinking. In fact, his breath smelled like peppermint. “You cannot call it off.”
He grinned. “Watch me.”
“But I don’t have—um, I mean I can’t buy...” Her heart raced when she tried to explain to him she was without money. She wanted him to think of her as a wealthy lady for a while longer. How could she tell him she had limited funds without confessing her true identity?
Laughter built from deep within his chest the longer he watched her, and she wanted to punch him in the nose.
He scratched his cheek. “Don’t tell me your father has tightened his money bag and won’t let his daughter spend any more of his precious coins?”
She furrowed her brows and pursed her lips. “That, too, is none of your business, Mr. Knightly.”
His laughter grew as he shook his head. “Fine, Miss Landon. Go up the street to Consuelo’s store and charge whatever you purchase to my account.”
Her spirits lifted. Why would he do this for her? No one ever did anything nice for her, and he hated her. Didn’t he? “Are you certain?” she asked.
His laughing stopped and he smiled. “Yes. If it’s the only way for you to bring the proper clothes, then it must be done.” He shrugged. “Your father will reimburse me, I’m sure.”
Her heart leapt as she stared at his irresistible mouth. “Thank you,” she said meaningfully. “Then I’ll meet you back here in one hour?”
“No. I’ll meet you in the store to make sure you have everything you need.”
She licked her dry lips. “As you wish.” Keeping her chin high and back straight, she marched up the street toward the store, inwardly boiling with anger. How could one man be so impossible to understand, and at the same time, so irresistibly attractive? If not for his devastating smile, she would have verbalized her thoughts and let him know he was not her keeper. Why couldn’t she get rid of these mixed emotions created inside of her whenever he was around?
In the many years she’d served in the tavern, she ran across a lot of men who tried to tell her what to do, and those men, in particular, tried to take advantage of her innocence and vulnerability. Those experiences taught her how to fight, and she always came out a winner.
Mr. Knightly was going to be difficult, but he intrigued her and she actually looked forward to their adventures just so she could push him to the limit and see his reactions. Teasing him would also keep her mind off those strange sights she’d had, and her flirty mood would entertain her until she reached the plantation.
THREE
Felix watched Miss Landon’s backside swing to and fro as she moved up the street. The sun highlighted the red hints in the brown ringlet tresses cascading down her back. He liked her hair long. It was definitely different from the way she had it yesterday. Today she looked more relaxed, instead of the uppity way she appeared when he first met her. He had to admit she was a very lovely woman. And he quite enjoyed their heated exchanges, only because he couldn’t wait to see who’d win.
As he gulped in a breath of air, he tilted his head back, hoping he could clear his mind quickly. One way or another, he couldn’t think about her in this manner. Other more important things weighed heavily on his mind.
Shaking his head, he tried to clear away his fuzzy thoughts. He hadn’t consumed any spirits, as Miss Landon had presumed. Instead, his worries about his family had kept him awake during the night.
He stretched his arms over his head, and shook out his legs, before focusing on the boat. His crew had handled most of the loading, but they struggled with the few remaining crates. On a barrel nearby, lay some cowhide gloves. He pulled them over his hands as he moved toward his crew to help.
Just the thought of a new adventure ignited his spirit and expanded his enthusiasm. It had been two months since his last journey into the Amazon jungle, but he’d traveled through these parts so often in the past three years, he knew it like his own backyard. Although his childhood years were spent in London living amongst the aristocracy, his adult years were spent away from society. He’d worked as an officer with the Metropolitan Police and made some good frie
nds, but when he was shot and nearly died, he decided to change his course through life. That’s when he found his way here—Heaven on Earth.
Time slipped away as he busied himself with preparing the boat. The scorching heat had sweat pouring from his head, trickling down his back, and gathering on his chest. He swiped his sleeve across his forehead, and then gazed up into the sky. By the location of the sun, morning had settled and it was time to travel.
He straightened and looked toward land. Time to get the spoiled little rich girl. He dipped a tin cup into the water bucket and dumped it over his head. The cool liquid skimmed over his charred skin and refreshed him, if only for a moment. He refilled the cup with water and drank it, letting it slide down his parched throat. After running his fingers through his damp hair, he left to retrieve Miss Landon.
With each step closer to the stubborn chit, his rage boiled hotter than today’s sun. Although he loved the adventure of the jungle, he feared this journey would try his patience more than he’d experienced before. That woman just had to argue with him at every turn. Didn’t she realize he knew what he was talking about?
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sucked in a deep breath. The heat was definitely doing something to his head. Why else would he want to think about Miss Landon? She would never make him happy. She wouldn’t be able to stop harping long enough.
He stepped inside Consuelo’s store, scanning the aisles for Miss Landon. She’d been in here for an hour, so why didn’t he see her? A couple of customers passed by, greeting him with smiles. He nodded to them before moving around them, still keeping a sharp eye out for the woman who knew how to make his temperature rise one way or another.
From the back of the room, a woman’s laugh exploded into a fit of giggles. He hadn’t had the privilege of hearing Miss Landon’s laugh, but the heated tingles scorching his insides prodded him to follow the sound. Going on instinct, he walked to the back part of the store. Consuelo, the owner’s wife, stood next to a small room blocked only with a threadbare blanket. Sections of the brown cloth were so thin he could tell someone stood behind it. As he neared, a flash of creamy skin drew his attention, and he hitched a breath. Unable to tear his gaze away, he peered closer, realizing what he saw was Miss Landon’s mid-section. Was that her navel?
He groaned, and his mouth grew dry. Within moments she moved and thankfully, he couldn’t see any more of her body. The glimpse he’d received branded his mind quickly, and it would be impossible to erase it.
“Miss Landon, come out and let me see,” Consuelo insisted.
“As you wish. Give me a moment to put on the shirt first,” she grumbled from the other side of the blanket. “I cannot be rushed. If I don’t look presentable, Mr. Know-it-all will refuse to guide me into the jungle, and that is not an option. I must obey his commands, you know.”
Felix bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud. It was good to know she had listened to him. He stepped to the side of a shelf of clothes, hoping the two women wouldn’t notice him right away.
“Oh, Miss Landon, I’m quite certain Mr. Knightly is not that harsh. I’ve known him since he first came here, and he’s a very reasonable man.”
Miss Landon snorted. “He hasn’t shown me that side of his personality, yet. Perhaps I just bring out the worst in him.”
Nodding, Felix couldn’t agree more.
She growled again and stomped her foot. From the heavy thud, he could tell she wore men’s boots now. Good. At least she followed directions.
“Are you certain this is the right size?” She yanked the blanket to the side and walked out of the room. Sticking out her right foot, she displayed the boots to Consuelo. “They feel big, and they don’t look good on me.”
He rolled his eyes. Women and their fashions.
Consuelo crouched as her hand went to Miss Landon’s foot and touched the boot. “I do believe these are the right size.” She stood and folded her arms, running her gaze down her customer. “Miss Landon, you will be traveling through the jungle. Looking good will be the least of your worries.”
Felix grinned. Smart woman. Too bad he couldn’t say that about the younger lady standing beside her. He had to admit, wearing men’s clothes did not look good on her. Maybe it was because the trousers practically hugged her lower half, showing him the slender curves her dress had kept hidden. And the man’s shirt she wore... He gnashed his teeth. Why did she have to wear something so form fitting? In the jungle when the temperature rises to a near boiling, that white shirt would cling to her moist skin. Keeping the other men off her would be harder than fighting the mosquitoes and poisonous ants.
Cursing fate, he bunched his hands together at his side. They hadn’t even begun their trek and already he was having improper thoughts. Perhaps being her guide wasn’t the best decision he’d made. He should return the money to her father and stay far away from the tempting beauty.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t turn away from his last escapade. His grandmother needed him soon, and he’d begin his responsibilities to the earldom as soon as he took Miss Landon to her father. He’d make certain to keep her upset at him every minute of their journey so he wouldn’t become attracted to her.
Clearing his throat loudly, he made his presence known as he stepped away from the shelves of clothes. Consuelo spun around and offered a genuine smile.
“Good day, Mr. Knightly.”
He nodded. “Indeed, it is a spectacular day.”
He glanced at Miss Landon who snapped her head up and looked at him with wide eyes. Purposely, he slid his gaze over her attire again, this time in slow measurements, mainly for her benefit. Instead of making her upset as he thought it would, her expression softened, and her green eyes brightened. Her lips parted as her chest rose and fell in a quick rhythm.
It irked him that she hadn’t given him the response he’d expected. “Miss Landon, are you ready?” he barked.
She inhaled sharply and snapped her mouth closed. Her facial features hardened with her glare. Good. Just the way he wanted her—belligerent.
“Yes, I am. Consuelo was kind enough to help me pack.” She pointed to the packs on the floor. “I hope you’re satisfied now.”
He marched to her things and rummaged through the backpacks, hoping to find something that would upset him. Unfortunately, he didn’t. Straightening, he gave her a nod. “This will work.” He grabbed the packs and flung them over his shoulder. “Come. It’s time to leave.” He looked at the older woman. “Thank you, Consuelo. You have been extremely helpful.”
Pink spots dotted her cheeks. “You’re welcome, Mr. Knightly. Enjoy your trip.”
Enjoy? He didn’t think that was an emotion he’d experience at all.
WHAT AN INCORRIGIBLE man!
Trying not to think of the bossy Mr. Knightly, Katrina stood by the railing of the small, one-level steamboat as it crept along the twisting river. Since leaving the store, he’d commanded every step she took until they’d reached the boat. Even now as they sailed, his domineering voice boomed through the air, disrupting her thoughts. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he hated this type of adventure. He snapped at everything she did and barked at the others as if they’d done something wrong as well.
Mr. Knightly was very similar to the tavern owner that had taken over when she was in her sixteenth year. Up to this point in her life, she’d been helping in the kitchen, but when Mr. McDougal started managing, he instructed her that she needed to wait tables. He made her wear skimpy dresses and expected her to flirt with the drunken customers. McDougal said the tavern would bring in more money if she did what he requested. Although it turned her stomach, she followed his rules. Never in all that time, did he think she had a mind of her own—or an opinion. She was to shut her mouth and not talk back, which of course, was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.
Even coming to Brazil didn’t compare to the torture McDougal had put her through. So perhaps she shouldn’t complain about being here, because if she had
the option, she’d choose Knightly over McDougal.
The farther into the jungle they sailed, the thicker the knotted trees became until she couldn’t see anything in between each one. The sun glinted off the murky water, making shadowy figures of the trees and bushes. It was so peaceful and still, except for the men on the boat wandering around as they kept the vessel moving and the occasional shouts from Mr. Knightly.
It still upset her that he hadn’t allowed her mother to come along. But in truth, having her mother take this journey would not have been wise. Thankfully, Mr. Knightly kept to his word and there was another woman on board. She was a good ten years Katrina’s senior, and hadn’t yet said one word to her. Katrina hoped they would at least carry on one decent conversation during the trip...as long as the woman spoke English.
A movement in the water caught her eyes, and she studied the shape as the barge crawled closer. She leaned over the railing a bit more, trying to see what skimmed just under the surface. Some kind of animal, to be sure.
The creature was long and pointy at both ends. Beady eyes watched her, barely above the water. At first she thought it to be an alligator, but the river wasn’t transparent enough for her to see clearly, and she didn’t think an alligator could be that large.
She leaned a little closer to get a better look. As the boat passed, the animal’s eyes narrowed. Then, within a split second, it lifted it’s head and snapped its long jaws, jagged with sharp teeth, toward her. Crying out in alarm, she withdrew. Suddenly, from behind, two hands grabbed tightly to her waist, and she jumped.
“You fool!” Mr. Knightly scolded, practically yelling in her ear. “Do you want to fall in the river and become that crocodile’s lunch?”
With shaky hands, she placed them over his to remove his hold. Instead, she found comfort in those long fingers spanning her waist. Her heart hammered more from his nearness than from the hungry crocodile. She fought the urge to lean back and rest against his chest.
In a flash, one of her sights came. It was dark, but she could see Mr. Knightly’s handsome face clearly. He wore a serious expression as he moved closer to her, lowering his head as if to kiss her...
Katrina's Sight Page 4