Wild Silver - the Delaneys

by Iris Johansen

  “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to renege on your promise,” Nicholas said caustically as he turned toward the stairs leading to the Texas deck. “She seems to inspire an amazing degree of devotion.”

  “Perhaps because she doesn’t try to be anything but what she is,” Valentin said. “I find that very refreshing.”

  When Nicholas opened the door of the pilot house it was quickly obvious that Robert Danfold found Silver equally refreshing. The two were so absorbed that neither realized Nicholas and Valentin had arrived.

  Robert’s face was alight with enthusiasm as he stood behind Silver at the wheel, watching with razor-sharp eyes every move she made. “That’s right, now a little to the starboard. See those lines and circles on that slick water? That means it’s shoaling up and that’s a danger.”

  “What about that slanting mark on the water downriver?” Silver asked, her brow wrinkled in concentration.

  Danfold grinned. “You have a good eye. There’s a bluff reef under the surface there that could wreck any riverboat that comes too near.”

  “So many dangers.” Silver shook her head. “The river looks lazy and peaceful and yet every mile poses another threat.”

  “Not only the river,” Robert Danfold said. “Half the boats on the river are miserable scows manned by pilots who don’t know a sandbar from a clear channel. Before I got the job on the Rose I was a pilot on another of Mr. Bassinger’s boats, the Mary L.” He shook his head. “Her boilers should have been replaced five years ago. Someday they’re going to blow the Mary L clear to Hades, just like the Sultana.”

  “The Sultana?” Silver asked.

  “Watch that floating log,” Robert warned crisply. “The Sultana was carrying Yankee soldiers up north back in April of sixty-five. After midnight one night the boilers blew. Over fifteen hundred men, women, and children died from fire and drowning before dawn.”

  “How terrible,” Silver whispered, her gaze flying to Robert’s face.

  He nodded. “I told Mr. Bassinger it could happen to the Mary L, but he wouldn’t listen to me.” He smiled comfortingly at Silver. “Don’t you worry though. The boilers on the Rose are sound as a dollar. She’s the best boat on the river.”

  Silver nodded. “Yes, and she’s beautiful, too, Robert. I can see why you’re so proud of her.”

  They exchanged a companionable smile that was full of mutual respect.

  Nicholas felt a surge of hot irritation that was beginning to be uncomfortably familiar. He took a step forward. “She won’t stay the best boat on the river if you continue to leave her fate in the hands of novices.”

  Robert and Silver both looked over their shoulders and Robert grinned. “Oh, hello, Nicky. Don’t worry about the Rose. Silver is doing a fine job. Better than me when I was a cub pilot.”

  “I’m sure that’s true.” Nicholas looked squarely at Silver. “She’s already demonstrated a talent for negotiating through very dangerous waters. However, even the best pilot can run aground. Don’t you agree, Robert?”

  “Maybe.” Robert shifted uneasily. The emotions vibrating between Silver and Nicholas were charging the air of the pilot house with unrest and he didn’t like it one bit. The river was enough of a challenge for a man, and no decent river pilot could concentrate on anything else when he was at the wheel. “You’d better run along, Silver.”

  She smiled warmly at him. “Thank you for teaching me, Robert. It was very interesting. May I come back?”

  Robert glanced at Nicholas’s taut face and then shook his head. “I reckon you’d better not.” He turned back to the river with a feeling of relief. He’d a hell of a lot rather face a hidden reef than Nicholas Savron at this moment.

  “We’re disturbing Robert,” Nicholas said. “I think it’s time you went back to the stateroom.”

  Silver released the steering wheel and strolled across the room, smiling at Valentin, who stood a pace behind Nicholas. “It was very exciting, Valentin. You should have stayed and watched. The river is like a book if you know how to read her.” She laughed as she glanced back over her shoulder at Robert. “Listen to me, Robert. I sound just like you.”

  She was ignoring him, Nicholas realized, feeling a quick wave of fury wash through him. She had smiles and words for every other man on the boat, but she completely ignored him.

  Robert nodded. “River talk.”

  Valentin was looking apprehensively from Nicholas’s face to Silver’s. It was the first time he had seen them together and he was beginning to understand much that had eluded him. Sweet Jesus, the atmosphere between them was near explosive and Silver was making it no better by deliberately ignoring Nicholas.

  “I’m sure it’s fascinating.” Valentin feigned a yawn. “But it’s hot as the devil up here. Why don’t we go back to the stateroom and have a glass of wine?”

  “If you like.” Silver brushed by Nicholas and fell into step with Valentin. “Though I have no likeness for wine.” She laughed, tossing back her shining mane of dark hair as she started down the stairs to the hurricane deck. “Perhaps you haven’t heard that we Indians have to be careful of firewater. Whites have taken too much from us when our heads weren’t clear.”

  “It’s understandable,” Nicholas said silkily. “I’m sure they felt they needed every advantage against the heathen horde.”

  Silver’s smile faded. “You bet they did.” She had avoided looking at Nicholas since that first breathless moment in the pilot house, but she forced herself to meet his gaze now. “Apaches know how to make war.”

  “But you’re only half Apache.”

  “But the other half is Delaney, and I’d wager they could teach your fine Cossacks a thing or two about fighting.”

  “We shall see,” Nicholas said. He turned to Valentin. “Silver and I have something to discuss. I’m sure you can amuse yourself elsewhere.”

  Valentin’s eyes flickered. “How rude you’re being, Nicky. I’m sure Silver would not be unwilling to tolerate my presence.”

  Nicholas drew an impatient breath. “But it’s not Silver’s choice.” His hand was suddenly beneath Silver’s elbow, propelling her along the deck toward his stateroom. “I believe it’s time that both she and the rest of you remember that fact.”

  Valentin gazed after them for a moment, an anxious frown darkening his face. Then he gave a resigned sigh, turned, and headed for the door leading to the saloon.

  Nicholas leaned against the stateroom door, his gaze following Silver as she crossed the room and plopped down on the olive velvet wing chair beside the bed.

  She stretched her legs before her with the coltish carelessness of a young boy and gazed at him coolly. “Well, we’re here. What do you want with me?”

  “I think you know the answer to that question.” His gaze traveled slowly over her, lingering on the soft fullness of her breasts. “I’ve certainly done my best to be very clear on the subject.”

  She gestured impatiently. “I don’t understand why you’re so determined to fornicate with me. Surely one woman is as good as another as far as men are concerned. Women’s bodies are all much the same.”

  He looked at her in surprise. Then a smile lit his face. “You either have very little vanity or you grossly underestimate my discrimination. I assure you there are vast differences in women.” He hadn’t realized how different a woman could be until he had encountered Silver Delaney. His smile faded when he recalled he was not the only man who had found the girl unique. She had deftly wound Mikhail and Valentin around her little finger and even Robert had proved he wasn’t immune. “What were you doing up in the pilot house?”

  She looked at him innocently. “Learning to steer the boat. It was very boring cooped up in this room. What else should I have been doing?”

  “Perhaps trying to persuade Robert to help you escape? He seemed quite taken with you.”

  “Because you think of nothing but lust, you believe all men are like you. Robert would never be tempted to give up his beautiful river for a woman.�
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  “I’m glad you realize that. Then you don’t have any reason to go back there. You seem to forget you’re a prisoner.”

  “I’m trying to forget.” Her eyes were suddenly blazing. “Because when I remember, I feel like cutting off your balls.”

  My God, every word she spoke was a shock and most of the time totally outrageous. He threw back his head and laughed.

  She glared at him. “You wouldn’t think it so funny if I still had my knife.”

  “I’m sure that’s true.” He continued to laugh. “I fancy I would be taking your every word very seriously.” He straightened away from the door and began to move toward her, his dark eyes still sparkling with humor. “Just as I intend you to take mine seriously.” He stopped before her and his voice lowered to a level above a whisper. “I had a very bad night last night.”

  “It was your own fault. Valentin told me you drank too much wine.”

  “It wasn’t the wine.”

  “It was me? Good, you deserved it. Perhaps next time you will think a second time before you abduct a woman.”

  “I’ll certainly ascertain whether she carries a knife and has an Apache code of vengeance.” He shook his head, a smile still lingering on his lips. “Half the night I was cursing you and the other half I was lying in that bed down the hall remembering how you looked standing naked before me, taunting me. Did you think about that moment after I left you too?”

  She stiffened. She didn’t want to think of either her gesture of defiance or the look on Nicholas Savron’s face as he had sat there like some golden-haired diety watching her disrobe. The, memory brought a hot aching between her thighs and caused the beat of her heart to quicken. “No.” She unconsciously moistened her lips with her tongue. “I told you, Indians have a more sensible attitude toward their bodies than whites. It meant nothing to me.”

  He suddenly dropped to his knees before her, his gaze searching her face. “I think you’re not telling me the truth,” he said softly. “I think you wanted me to touch you as much as I wanted to touch you last night. Would you like me to tell you what I was thinking as I watched you? I was thinking I’d never seen a more magnificent woman in all my life. I was thinking your breasts were like perfectly shaped golden melons, firm, solid, generous—just meant for a man’s hands. I was thinking I’d like to lift your breasts to my mouth and suck until those pink nipples were flame-red and hard.” His eyes were riveted to her rounded fullness beneath the prim white bodice. “As hard as I was.”

  “You’re talking foolishness.” Her voice sounded choked even to her own ears. She wanted to look away but she couldn’t seem to pull her gaze from his face. “I wouldn’t have let you—”

  “And I was thinking how I’d like to run my hand down your body.” His gaze dropped to her lap, demurely draped in the gabardine skirt. “I want to tangle my fingers in those soft curls and tug and tease until you open your thighs and welcome me. Then I’d press my thumb on your—”

  “Stop!” Her voice was shaking and she had to take a deep breath to steady it. What was he doing to her? He hadn’t touched her, yet her body felt heavy with an aching sensuality, her breasts swollen and sensitive. She suddenly wanted to tear open her shirtwaist and free her breasts. She wanted his hands lifting and fondling her, his mouth—No, she must not, she thought desperately. “Go away. I don’t want you here.”

  He sat back on his heels and smiled. “Oh, yes, you want me here. And you want me to carry you to that bed and drive into you again and again and—”

  “No. No, I don’t.” She pressed back against the tufted cushions of the chair, her cheeks singeing with color. “Why should I? You’re nothing to me.”

  “Except a man who can please you.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “A man who can stop you from burning. Because you are burning, Silver.”

  Her breasts were lifting and falling with every breath as she tried to force air into her lungs. Move away, she thought dizzily. Though not touching her, he was still too close. She could feel the heat of his strong male body and caught the scent of soap and musk she was learning to recognize as his own.

  “I’m not burning,” she protested.

  “Yes, you are.” His face lit with a strange tenderness as he smiled at her. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to let you burn for long.” His smile deepened to ruefulness. “I couldn’t. I thought I wanted to punish you, but I decided last night it would only be punishing myself. I’m much too selfish to do anything so idiotic.” He rose lithely to his feet and looked down at her. “I also decided that next time I would act as a lady’s maid when you chose to disrobe in front of me. You shouldn’t mind my assistance.” His dark eyes were suddenly dancing with mischief. “After all, nudity is nothing to you, and I’ve promised to restrain my lustful nature.” He paused. “Unless you issue an invitation.”

  She tilted her head back to look up at him. She didn’t dare speak, for she knew her voice would tremble, but she refused to lower her eyes or avoid his glance.

  He nodded and for a moment there was a flicker of both admiration and pride in his expression. “Later.” He turned and walked toward the door. “It will be all the better if we both think about it for a while. I just wanted you to know what I would be thinking when I looked at you this evening.” He opened the door and glanced back at her. “I’ve decided that since you seem to have such a distaste for being confined, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have dinner with our guests. They may be a trifle disreputable, but a woman of your background shouldn’t be uncomfortable in their presence. Dinner is at eight. Valentin will escort you to the table.”

  Silver breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed softly behind him. She was tingling, trembling, and her heart was pounding crazily. And he had been aware of his effect on her, dammit. She should have known she wouldn’t be able to hide her emotions from him. She had never been good at subterfuge even as a child. When she had tried to hide her loneliness and fear behind a wall of defiance, Rising Star had always been able to see right through the deceit to the terrified child. Now this golden-haired satyr was reading her just as easily as her aunt had.

  No, that was not true. He was aware only of her body’s response, not the responses of her heart and soul. Even if her body betrayed her, she could still keep from yielding him anything else. He would never know the curious aching tenderness she had experienced when he had thrown back his head and laughed so joyously, nor her wistfulness when she had watched him with Mikhail and Valentin. Those reactions had both been madness and she would not acknowledge that they had existed for more than a fleeting moment.

  She rose from the chair and wandered over to the window to gaze out at the bluffs bordering the banks of the river. According to what Robert had revealed to her, she might not have long to worry about Nicholas or her reactions to him. The Mississippi Rose would proceed down a channel almost in the middle of the river for the next twenty-four hours. Then the boat would have to bear toward the western shore to avoid a chain of sandbars. Even a strong swimmer would have difficulty making it to shore now, but the distance would be cut in half tomorrow evening when the Rose veered around the sandbars. She must only make sure she was not locked in the stateroom or surrounded by Nicholas’s guests when that time came. Her hand clenched on the peach-colored velvet of the heavy curtains. It shouldn’t be too difficult, much easier and less dangerous than spending another day with Nicholas.

  Oh, yes, far less dangerous than staying with Nicholas Savron.

  Valentin stood in the doorway, his gaze traveling over Silver from the top of her dark head to the tips of her sensible patent leather boots. He bowed gracefully. “You look as fresh as a spring daffodil.”

  “I look no different than I did this afternoon.” Silver touched the bodice of her white shirtwaist. “I have nothing else to wear. Not that I would have changed for dinner anyway. Why should I care what you all think of me?” She came toward him, her back very straight, her carriage majestic. “I didn’t choos
e to come here.”

  Valentin grimaced as he looked down at his own elegant attire. “Ah, such confidence. I’m afraid I’ve always relied upon my tailor to lend me boldness when facing a social evening.”

  Silver smiled. It was difficult to believe Valentin could be anything but confident in any situation. “I have a confession to make.”

  “Wonderful, I love to hear lovely women’s confessions. I do hope it’s shocking.”

  She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I did scrub my face and brush my hair.”

  Valentin’s laugh rang out. “A touch of vanity at last.” He offered her his arm. “Since we’re obviously kindred spirits, may I escort you to the grand saloon, Miss Delaney?”

  She slipped her arm in his. “I’m not nervous, you understand.”

  “No, of course not,” he said gently. “But I am. So perhaps you’ll be persuaded to bear me company this evening. A man always feels more confident with a pretty woman at his side.”

  She tried to hide the relief that cascaded through her. “I don’t see why not.” She didn’t look at him as she permitted him to escort her from the stateroom, “You’ve been very kind to me.”

  She was glad for his polite chatter as well as his silent support as they traversed the long, glittering expanse of the saloon. The chandeliers shimmered with color, borrowing brilliance from the stained-glass skylights and casting a festive glow on the scene at the opposite end of the saloon. The long dinner table was covered with a rich lace cloth and set with fine china and tall white candles in silver holders. Four musicians played on a raised circular platform a few yards away from the dinner table. They were quite skilled but no one was paying any attention to their music, Silver noticed. The men and women seated at the table were too involved with one another, their laughter and conversation so loud the music could scarcely be heard. Dinner was already in progress and four white-coated servants were bustling around the table filling wineglasses and serving roast chicken from a silver tray.