Starlight & Promises

by Cat Lindler

  His gaze darted to her face. “Forgive me if I should hurt your feelings, but can there be any more useless creature than an aristocrat? They neither work nor do they contribute anything useful to society. Their sole legacy is noble offspring, who in turn become an additional burden on the working class. The aristocracy bemoans a welfare system yet refuses to acknowledge that their own class structure perpetuates the most heinous form of welfare—living off the sweat and backs of the poor.”

  She contemplated his words, and her mouth pursed.

  “Have you the same animosity toward British ladies?”

  He laughed, reached out, and tweaked the tip of her nose. “With the proper guidance and incentive, women, even British ladies, can be whipped into shape, taught to work and carry their own weight.”

  “Humph. I do believe I have no liking for that ‘whipped into shape’ part of your answer. Be that as it may, with your reformist leanings, you must favor women’s suffrage.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t go that far—” When she slapped him on the shoulder, he grinned. “Most assuredly. I support the notion in principle. Men and women should have the same rights but only the rights they earn. Unfortunately, society has prevented women from learning what they need to know to compete with men on an equal footing. In that way, men protect their own interests and maintain domination of the home and the workplace. Women can learn as capably as men, but they’ve not had the opportunity on account of men controlling the institutions and governments.”

  “Then why do you insist on being in charge?” she challenged.

  Christian rose up on an elbow to face her. His voice became serious. “Because on this expedition, I have the most experience. I assume that fact to be the reason you hired me. A party with more than one leader foments rebellion, and confusion sets in, resulting in preventable harm.” His tone softened. “Were we planning a shopping expedition to Harrods, I would gladly allow you to take the lead.”

  She affected a small pout and changed the subject. “Do you ever regret your father’s decision? His abandoning an earl’s lifestyle, the wealth and prestige?”

  “What is there to regret? I have everything I could wish for—my work, my home, my basketball court. I have as much wealth as I deserve. How much does one man need? And as for prestige, I have the respect of my professional colleagues and friends not because of who I was born but because of who I am and what I’ve accomplished.”

  “Is there nothing else you want? A wife? A family?”

  His eyes glinted with emotion, but she had difficulty deciphering what she saw in them. “Garrett is like a son to me and quite the handful, thank you very much. I suppose someday I might consider marriage and children.”

  “I daresay you had best consider quickly, as you are not getting any younger,” she replied.

  “I thank you for reminding me.” He stretched out and rolled away from her on his side. “Now, go to sleep, or you’ll regret your lack of it tomorrow. Some way, I’m not certain how, you managed to slip more than two questions by me.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Dawn blazed forth in a fiery yellow ball, a wave of scorching heat, and a loud buzzing on Samantha’s bedroll. She lay on her back, her stiff body aching, her brain slowly rousing. Lifting her head, she peered down the length of her legs. A snake with a tail of rattles coiled on the blankets between her spread knees. It watched her with flat, elliptical eyes, a red tongue flicking in and out of its mouth.

  She turned her head a fraction to find Christian’s bedroll empty. She had encountered a few venomous snakes in her reptile-hunting career, all of them adders. She now eyed the snake with fascination and remained motionless, examining it and trusting it would decide to leave on its own. Yellow spots marched down its length above a red stripe painted on a background color of tropical sand. It shook its tail again, and the noise that had awakened her buzzed like a hive of bees. A rattlesnake. How delightful! She recalled the ones the London Zoo imported from America. A thrill rippled through her. The longer she studied the animal, the more beautiful it seemed, in a cool, sinister way.

  Perhaps she could charm it, like she had read about in books on India. She’d had no success with English crowned snakes, but a rattlesnake could prove more susceptible. She began a rhythmic humming and stared into its eyes. The snake calmed down and rested its head on its coils.

  A wiggling movement came from the ground beyond her feet, and Christian’s low voice reached out to her. “Don’t move, Sam. Lie still.”

  She had no intention of moving.

  The wiggling came again, and a brown mouse with a pointy nose scurried into view. The string tied around its tiny waist led to a long, spindly branch that waved back and forth.

  Christian was fishing for the snake! At the idea of fishing for snakes, she stifled her laugh for fear of startling the reptile.

  The mouse ran back and forth on its tether, and the snake lifted and turned its head, its oval gaze intent on the small creature. Its forked tongue flickering in and out, the snake uncoiled in an unhurried motion to slither off from between Samantha’s legs and move past her feet.

  Christian swung the branch in a wide circle, backing up into the brush, drawing the snake farther away. A loud squeak came from the mouse when the snake caught its breakfast. Christian trotted into sight, ran to her, and bent down on one knee. “Are you unharmed?” Muscles across his cheeks tightened and etched deep lines in his forehead.

  She threw back the blankets, came to her feet, and stretched. “Of course I am.”

  He rose beside her, grasping her upper arms. “Did it bite you?” His words came out in a tremble. When she shook her head, he inhaled a straggly breath. “I assumed you would be terrified and do something foolish, like try to kick it off the bedroll. You took at least ten years off my life.”

  She lifted and firmed her chin. “Calm yourself. At your age, I doubt you can afford to lose ten years. I already informed you of my herpetological background. I have no fear of snakes, nor am I foolish.”

  He regarded her with new respect, his mouth relaxing into a smile. “Perhaps you’ll prove to be less troublesome than I originally believed.”

  Samantha responded with a grin.

  He winked. “However, I’ll not wager money on it. Next time our intruder could be a grasshopper.”

  She snorted and scooped her blankets into her arms to ball them up. “You used quite the unique method for luring it away. A result of your eons of experience, I presume?”

  He took the bedroll from her hands, shook it out, and rolled it into a neat, tight cylindrical bundle.

  “I thought rattlesnakes hunted only at night,” she said.

  “Normally they do, but when it’s chilly at night, like it is now, they hunt when the sun comes up, then digest their meal in the heat of the day. Anyway, that fellow was a bit thin. It hadn’t eaten in a while, and I had a suspicion it would not turn up its nose at a mouse.” A lazy smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “And surely by now you’ve discovered I’m a unique fellow.”

  “To be sure, you are,” she murmured, lowering her eyes and walking away to load her pack.

  Christian carried Samantha’s pack, along with his own, to allow her shoulders time to heal. However, he warned her she would bear that responsibility the next day. Samantha gave him a careless shrug. Without the heavy pack, she skipped along as light as the clouds floating above, keeping pace with him more easily. She even forged ahead on occasion, returning only when he shouted at her to remain in sight and watch where she walked.

  All the while, her buttocks flexed beneath the tight trousers, and Christian’s rebellious mind prattled, I should have been between her legs instead of that snake.

  Toward late morning, they scaled the steep rock spanning the island’s length like a spiny backbone. The golden orb of the sun raised heat waves that danced like seductive Egyptian women over the plain at the foot of the ridge. Hawks floated overhead and dipped in sultry updrafts created by the a
brupt change in landscape. Christian reached the crest and halted on a ledge. He called Samantha over and gestured to the land below. “This is the western side of the island. It receives most of the rain.”

  “Remarkable,” she said. Her gaze swung back and forth from the brown half of the island to the lush green valley. A jungle of palms and ferns covered the western slope. Lianas twisted among the trees to create aboveground highways for a host of exotic birds and small mammals.

  “Do you fancy a swim?” he asked, pointing to a declivity nearly hidden in the trees.

  She peered downward and drew in a gasp. A waterfall sparkled like liquid silver as it cascaded over a cliff face, creating a mist rising as thickly as a London fog. Whiteness foamed where the water tumbled into a turquoise pool edged by green bushes and trees heavy with orchids. She turned to him with a wishful smile. “May we?”

  “If you like. First allow me to establish that no grasshoppers are lurking in the water or bushes.”

  She found it impossible to contain her enthusiasm and darted away to slide down a few feet of the steep slope.

  He clasped a hand around her arm. “Wait. I’ll go first.”

  They clambered down the rocky hillside, Christian keeping a careful eye on the way ahead, checking his footing before moving forward. When they encountered a particularly steep area, he helped Samantha with a steadying hand.

  At length they stood beside the pool. After dropping the packs, Christian beat the bushes for unfriendly wildlife, then began to unbutton his shirt. “Wait until I tell you to come in.”

  Samantha paid no attention. She squatted on the ground, dipped her hands in the cool water, and rubbed it on her parched face.

  He cupped her chin in his hand and tipped it up until their eyes met. “Did you hear me? Don’t enter the water until I tell you it’s safe.”

  “Quite clearly. Do hurry, Chris. I want to swim.”

  He sat down to remove his boots and stockings. When he rose, he pulled his shirt out of his trousers.

  Samantha’s eyes grew large and round. She caught her lower lip between her teeth. Why did it not occur to her until now that they would be required to disrobe? When he stripped his shirt over his head, she stuck a finger in her mouth and nibbled on the nail.

  “I’ll have to do something about that, Sam,” he muttered.

  Her gaze jumped up from the muscular chest covered with dark, curly hair, which held her undivided interest, to his face.

  “Chewing your fingernails.” He gestured at the finger in her mouth and cast her a chiding look. “Do I make you nervous?”

  She dropped her hand and spun around, twining her fingers together behind her back. “Of course not. ‘Tis merely a habit that has naught to do with you or my nerves. I have no notion I’m even doing it.”

  He unbuttoned his trousers, the buttons sliding from the holes sounding as loud as gunshots.

  “Perchance we can break that habit,” he went on. “Dr. Freud would say your mother denied you oral gratification as an infant. I’ll have to devise a substitute to occupy your hands and mouth.”

  Her face burned hot. Though she had no notion what he meant, she suspected his thoughts were less than gentlemanly. “You will do no such thing,” she said.

  He laughed, and the splash of his body hitting the pool came from behind her.

  When she collected the courage to turn about, Christian was swimming underwater. He surfaced and bent at the waist. His bare legs shot straight up out of the water, and he disappeared again.

  She must look a ninny, cowering on the bank, gawking at him. Though she possessed the courage to face down a deadly snake with the grace of Queen Victoria, she was incapable of viewing a nude man without her knees turning to marmalade.

  When he dove again, it became clear that he was not completely unclothed. He still wore his linen smallclothes. Being wet, they clung to every ripple. Were she to concentrate, she could see through them to the powerful flesh beneath. So he only appeared to be bare. Her bones threatened to liquefy.

  He popped up close to her, shaking his head, sending glittering droplets scattering across the pond and over her clothing. “It’s safe,” he said, scrubbing his hair away from his face. “You may swim now.”

  Her fingers automatically moved to her mouth. She realized in time what she was doing and jerked her hand back down to her side. Despite his promise to teach her what she needed to know about the expedition, was this another attempt at intimidation? If so, it would not work. He could take his intimidating tactics and put them right in …

  What are you waiting for, Samantha? Be brave. Show him he cannot frighten you.

  That was not her problem. Her hesitation stemmed not from fear of Christian but of the fire inundating her body. She had already allowed him to kiss her. No, were she being truthful, she begged him to kiss her and found it pleasant.

  Pleasant? No, ‘twas ecstasy!

  Samantha harbored no illusions she would ever wed. After four disastrous London seasons, she admitted her dubious assets and love of scientific achievements were unlikely to attract a serious suitor. Between her appalling temper and reptile collection, she made an abysmal choice for some peer’s wife. That fact became clear when a grass snake crawled out of her reticule while she and Jeremy Coulten strolled along the Serpentine at Hyde Park. After screaming like a fishwife, he fell into the water. His natty suit covered in duckweed, he climbed up the bank and escorted her home without uttering a word. Gossip of the incident spread through the Ton, and her suitors dwindled to naught. She was destined to remain on the shelf forever. Whether or not she sullied her reputation now seemed a moot point. In any event, she was a modern woman with no need of a husband or a reputation.

  Christian swam away with strong pulls of his arms, slicing through the water like a fish. When he reached the other side, she ducked into the bushes, ripped off her boots and stockings, and stripped off her shirt and trousers. She shimmied into the water still wearing her camisole and pantalets. The pond was cool and wonderfully refreshing on her heated flesh, and she treaded water, sun warming her shoulders. Swimming out into the middle, she flipped onto her back, closed her eyes, and floated like a fallen leaf. With cool water laving her body and sun penetrating to her bones, she felt as if she could float forever.

  Samantha opened her eyes at a splash. Christian was cleaving through the water toward her. She glanced down the length of her body to her lawn camisole and pantalets, and they were as transparent as a spiderweb. Rose nipples, plainly visible through the thin cloth, puckered tightly from the water’s chill. And, my God, the water even put the triangle of hair in her private area on display!

  She dropped her legs, sank in the water. He drew nearer, swimming in circles around her. She spun with him, giving him a puzzled smile. What was he about? While treading water, she kept an eye on him.

  He grinned slyly. “Were I a shark, I would see you as a tempting meal.” He continued to circle. “I would take a big bite out of that delectable little bottom.”

  She wrinkled her nose and splashed water on his chest. “Cease, Chris.”

  His circles tightened, and he gnashed his teeth.

  “I mean it. Stop it!”

  Dropping beneath the surface, he caught her legs and pulled her under. Teeth glided across her ankle and closed lightly around her calf. When he emerged again, he came up on the other side of the pond. Swimming toward her, he circled again. This time when he drew close, she splashed him in the face. Christian ducked and shot away underwater. He came back, precisely like a shark. Circling. Circling. Closer and closer.

  His features harder and more menacing this time, he said, “Suppose our ship sinks, and we have to swim for shore through an ocean of sharks? How would you deal with your dire situation? Tell the sharks to cease?” He dove again, and his teeth grazed her thigh. She kicked out, connecting with his shoulder.

  He surfaced with a grin. “Better. But duck beneath the water to face me. With those luscious legs wavi
ng about and that wiggling rear end, you make an enticing target.” He slapped a hand on the water’s surface. “With you up here and me below you, you cannot see what I’m doing.”

  While he circled, Samantha plotted. As soon as he disappeared, she slipped under the water, pushing him away with a foot planted in his belly. He released an explosive stream of bubbles.

  Entering into the spirit of the game, she analyzed his strategy, planning her countermoves, giving as good as she got. Christian praised her initiative when she eluded him and scolded her when he snuck in close enough to bite. At last he flipped belly up and floated away on his back.

  Nerves jangling and limbs weary, Samantha exhaled a breath when his mock attacks came to an end. Closing her eyes, she floated and daydreamed about the Smilodon. It had Christian’s green eyes and stalked her from the high grass.

  Christian shot up from the pond bottom and hooked an arm about her waist. She squealed. He drew her back against his chest and bit her on the neck. “I won,” he growled. “You dropped your guard too soon. Never assume the shark has given up until you know it’s dead.”

  His bite gradually changed character, becoming a caress, moving down her neck to her shoulder. While he swam backward, he towed her toward the shoreline. Her back lay against his chest, and his hard manhood pulsed against her buttocks.

  The water boiled where it touched her skin. She should push away. Fatigue made her limbs weak and limp. Her energy drained away. And she was so damnably hot! Though a mouse of apprehension gnawed at her mind, she knew Christian would not truly harm her. She relaxed and told herself she could trust him.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Christian’s mouth grazed her ear, and Samantha floated, unresisting, through the silky water. Circling the shell of her ear with his tongue, he dipped inside and traced the inner whorls. She shivered and steamed at the drag of his teeth along her skin and soft biting at the lobe. His lips traversed the back of her neck in small kisses and ended up at her other ear, nibbling and tonguing. If he did not stop, she would surely burst into flames.