by Becky Lower
James shivered in his wet attire, which made getting a spark from his damp flint even harder. Elise smiled as she strode among the trees, collecting wood, wondering if he’d give up and ask for help before he accomplished this simple task. Finally, he got a fire going, and added some of the wood she had accumulated. Soon, they had a roaring blaze, and the air filled with the scent of burning logs. Both sat beside it, allowing the warmth to dry their clothing.
She stared at him, noticing his rigid jaw as they dried off. Almost as if he needed to say something, but kept his words clamped behind his teeth. This total stranger had come to her aid the moment her feet hit the deck of the riverboat. She should give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe not paint him with the same brush as Bailey Snodgrass.
She shuddered as she thought of what her fate could have been, either tossed from the boat unceremoniously or attaching herself to the likes of the duo who had stolen from her father. But James Garnett unsettled her more than she cared to admit. More than Clay and Cody ever could.
She hadn’t given a thought to anything other than keeping track of the saddlebag when she boarded. Now she was in the midst of a shared adventure with a riverboat gambler. Not to mention, until they jumped overboard, a shared stateroom. She’d been in some precarious situations during her lifetime, but this one took top prize.
Why in the name of God had he jumped into the river beside her? She had gotten enough of his story to piece together he had plans to show some woman his success. Not just to show her his success, but to rub her nose in it, probably. And to accomplish his mission, he needed money, which he sure wouldn’t find tagging along with her. By jumping overboard, she’d thrown a wrinkle into his meticulous plans. Did he even care? Many questions burned through her mind, but she really wanted the answer to only one. She needed to sort out James’s mystery woman. Although the why of it eluded her.
She scooted closer to him and placed her hand over his. He toyed with her fingers. “So tell me more about this woman from your past, James.”
His grip on her tightened and the pad of his thumb stroked the soft skin of her wrist. “I’ve told you already, she’s ancient history and of no consequence. Why won’t you let it drop?”
Elise stared into his clear blue eyes, hoping to read something in them, but even with the glare from the fire she could tell nothing. She decided to bluff the gambler. “Why, then, do you still carry her handkerchief with you? You’ve had plenty of opportunity to buy a new one.”
He tossed her a glance. “It’s only a piece of cloth.”
“Nonetheless, it has special meaning for you.” Elise made a show of placing her hand to her heart and sighing. “So right now, tonight, before we go our separate ways in the morning, I would appreciate a straight answer. Why do you still carry a torch for the woman?” She searched his face again, hoping she’d pick up on some cue. Nothing. He contained his emotions way too well. For her part, she wished to crack her whip at something. Maybe at the ghost of the mystery lady. Instead, she cocooned his hand between hers and waited.
He tightened his grip on her fingers again for only a second. She bit her lip as his hand slipped away.
“Since we’re going to be together until I get my money and payment back from you, why don’t I teach you how to play poker?” He tugged out a soggy deck of playing cards from his jacket pocket, redirecting the conversation.
Elise inhaled sharply and pulled out the damp parchment document, fanning it toward the flames to dry out. “Oh, merciful God. You carry decks of cards around with you?”
“Only one. This is my lucky deck.” He laid them out on a log, one card at a time, to dry out.
“So, if we play cards and you win, what are you playing for?” Elise gave him a sidelong glance. “And you’d better not say a kiss, since you’ll not be getting any more of those.”
The smile returned to James’s face for the first time since they both landed in the water, and the devastating dimple flashed briefly in his right cheek. “I only need my money back. Each time I win, you’ll give me a twenty from my roll of bills. I’ll even let you keep the paper you find so important as my gift.”
“And if I win?”
“If you win, I’ll answer a question from you. One for each time you win the hand. But knowing my prowess with the cards, I’ll leave you in the morning with all my money back in my pocket and you’ll have nothing more than a damp piece of paper and a pile of unanswered questions.” James added another log to the fire.
Elise nodded her agreement to the terms. He had no intention of leaving until he had his money and she had no intention of voluntarily giving it back. She had Big Mo’s papers in her possession and even with her better sense telling her she should hand over his money and leave him eating her dust, she hesitated. She couldn’t wait for those cards to dry out. If winning at cards happened to be the only way to obtain his story, get her burning questions taken care of, she’d best him time after time and get some answers.
• ♥ •
James removed his soggy hat, which he had retrieved from the river before swimming to shore, brushed back that insolent lock that insisted on falling forward, and stretched out before the fire. His clothes were nearly dry, and his playing cards were drying as well, curling up at the edges. They’d be unusable when he sat again at a card table on a riverboat, but they’d serve their purpose with Elise.
He only needed his money back, so he could continue with his revenge plot. Damn the woman, anyway, for putting a crimp in his plans. Even if she did have the deepest blue eyes ever. And an exotic beauty that showcased the best of the mix of races she embodied.
During the war, James had only been interested in women who could slip information to him, either knowingly or unwittingly. It had been a dangerous game, but had been necessary. Since the war, James had only been tempted by women who could provide him with a good time for an evening. Elise Lafontaine didn’t fit into that category. She was definitely not someone to trifle with. He thanked his lucky stars they hadn’t stayed on board with that connecting doorway. It would have been far too tempting, and then all his plans would have been cast asunder.
All her talk about her four Indian brothers made his blood run cold, even as she heated him up. If anything, she had become a huge thorn in his side. Tempting, yet fatal. And if he stayed and she won a hand of poker, unlikely though that scenario appeared, she’d worm his entire story out of him. The sooner he got his money, the better. They hadn’t even played one hand of poker yet. Maybe he could take his money from her while she slept and then steal off into the night, leaving her tempting body behind.
He glanced across the fire. She had curled up as close as she could get to the source of heat and fallen asleep before he’d even shaken out his boots. As if she’d dozed in front of a campfire often. What kind of life had she led in St. Louis? She certainly had skills wielding a whip. What kind of work had she been doing on the ranch? Maybe, in addition to winning back his money, he could also get her story. He suddenly had a burning need to find out about her background as much as she hoped to find out about the woman from his past.
James puffed out a breath. Women. They were so tempting, and they were the root of all his problems. He’d wait a bit longer, make sure she was sleeping deeply, before he took his money. He’d seen her tuck the bills away between her breasts before she curled up. He’d take his roll of bills back and be on his way before dawn.
He’d learned sleight of hand while in the army, so it should be no problem. He’d take his money and his secrets and be gone, leaving her to her own devices. All the things she could face on her own–wild animals, wilder men, no food–raced through his mind and he shook his head. Her fate was not his problem. She’d asked for this when she jumped from the boat and away from his protection. Now, she’d have to deal with her choice.
One by one, he gathered up his lucky cards and tucked them away in his jacket pocket. He put his boots back on, grimacing at their clamminess, and placed his
wilted hat back on his head. He’d definitely have to spring for new clothes before he boarded another riverboat, since a large part of gambling was presentation. In a crouch, he made his way cat-like to Elise’s side. He halted to make certain she still slept before he carefully lowered his fingers into the tempting valley between her breasts. The very cleavage that had disrupted Flynn’s attention that night. The cleavage that caressed the large ruby he’d placed around her neck earlier. The cleavage he’d nearly delved into himself, as he loosened her bodice in front of their stateroom. He shook his head to clear away his stray thoughts.
His breath whistled through his teeth as his fingers lingered. His mind closed down the second he touched the softest skin he’d ever come into contact with. Forcing himself to get what he needed and get away, he flattened his lips and searched for his money.
Money be damned. He needed to touch and feel this woman more than he needed his bankroll. He ventured further, brushing her nipple and feeling it pucker and harden, even as her breathing shuddered and changed. Still asleep, she lifted her body toward his hand, offering herself to him as a slight moan escaped her lips.
Doomed to his fate, his fingers massaged her breast, and her moan deepened. Her lips parted and he needed to taste her, to see if, despite a dunking in the river, she still tasted of cinnamon, still carried the scent of that expensive cologne he’d purchased for her. To run his tongue along her teeth, to make her shudder again. He lowered his mouth to hers.
Her body crashed into his as she woke abruptly and sat upright. James fell back and held his nose, which had gotten the worst of the collision.
“What the hell are you doing?” Elise stood, tugging her shirt back into place.
“You broke my nose!” James stood as well, and took out his handkerchief to catch the blood flowing from his nostril. “Damn you, woman!”
“Damn me? I wasn’t the one touching you inappropriately. How dare you!” She brushed her long black hair from her face. “And your nose isn’t broken. I didn’t hear a crack of bone. It’s merely bruised. You might sport a black eye for a couple of days, though.” She grinned.
“You were enjoying my touch. At least, you were until you gained consciousness.” Despite his throbbing nose, James grinned at her.
“God, you’re such a typical, insufferable male,” she huffed. “Did you hope to find your money?”
“You tucked it away there before you slept. I caught you doing so.” James shrugged.
“You didn't ‘catch’ me hiding money between my breasts. I allowed you to see that.” She dipped into her shirt and took out a twenty, which she held out for him to see before she tossed it into the fire. “I only put one bill there. For the rest, you’ll have to dig deeper.” Her eyes narrowed as she followed his gaze, which flickered from her face to her breasts and lower, before making its way back to her face. “And you’ll never get there, Slick.”
She showed her back to him, muttering. “Insufferable, obwaam, le fumier, ass.”
“I don’t recognize any of what you’re saying, other than insufferable and ass,” James replied. “And although I get your meaning, it would carry more weight if I could have a translation of what you’d said.”
She spun around. “I said, you are insufferable, you resemble an animal’s hindquarters, you’re nothing but a pile of manure and you’re an ass. Satisfied?”
He scratched his chin, and dabbed his nose. “Sounded better when I didn’t have the translation.”
“Go to hell. I’m leaving.” Elise wound her whip around her waist, doused the fire, and stomped off into the woods. And, like the horse’s ass she’d just called him, he followed her.
CHAPTER NINE
The unflappable Mr. Garnett had met his match. Elise chuckled as she listened to him crashing through the forest behind her. She could teach him a thing or two about stealth. She had yet to figure out his game, but he made for a delectable diversion, now that she had Big Mo’s papers back. Maybe she’d even dig deeper into the reason he haunted riverboats and gambled for a living. He spelled danger in every sense of the word, but he also enticed her. Elise had never been able to pound any sense into her best friend, Eleanor, from the moment she’d met Bailey. Now, she understood a bit better what her friend had gone through. But she’d never allow her circumstances to become as dire as Eleanor’s had ended up.
She glanced back at James. Even with a puffy, sore nose, compliments of her collision with him, he was one handsome devil. His current occupation fascinated her, too. She’d had her fill of cowboys who were constantly striving to prove their worth to her and her brothers, almost as if they were auditioning for her hand. As if the one who could ride and rope the best would walk away with her as the prize. No one would walk away with her unless she so chose.
James didn’t attempt to explain himself to her, nor did he apologize for his behavior. He had his reasons for his current occupation and that appeared to be enough for him. So why did she need to find out more? To discover what motivated him and what had pointed him toward the life he now led? And about the mystery woman who drove him. A hot band of jealousy curled in her stomach as she thought of the woman who had obviously broken his heart. She needed to uncover his complete story before they parted ways.
The way he loped after her made her accept the fact he hadn’t yet given up on his quest to retrieve his money. She’d have to hang onto it a bit longer. If she wanted to hang onto him a bit longer.
She pivoted and he ran into her. Again. Fortunately for him, Elise only came up to his chest, so his nose didn’t suffer any additional damage. He still held his precious handkerchief to his face, since one nostril continued to ooze blood.
“Oof,” she expelled her breath and backed away. “Do you mind? I need some privacy so I can take care of my morning needs. I need some space.”
“Why don’t you warn a person when you’re coming to a dead stop? And yes, I do mind. I’m not letting you out of my sight, even for that.” James wiggled his eyebrows at her.
“At least let me go behind a bush,” she didn’t want to beg, but this man provoked her so.
“You’ll need to keep one foot where I can see it.” He eyed her boots.
“Fair enough. And after I’m done, you and I are going to have a talk.” She crouched behind a bush, but even with the small amount of privacy it provided, her cheeks burned. He paced back and forth so close he could hear and probably see how she took care of her daily functions. Didn’t he have any of his own to take care of? Even on those hard days with her brothers, when they were rounding up wild horses, she’d not been subjected to treatment of this sort. They’d given her some privacy. And besides, they were her brothers. The man on the other side of the bush could barely be classified as more than a total stranger. A stranger with mighty fine lips. And a wicked tongue. She put herself back together, made certain the wad of James’s money was secure, and emerged from her shelter.
“We’ll head north. According to my reckoning, we’re somewhere in Illinois, near where the Ohio River joins up with the Mississippi.” She glanced at the sun, checked the flow of the river and glanced over her shoulder. Even with his swollen nose and filthy clothes, James presented the consummate picture of a slick riverboat gambler.
“And if we head back in the direction of St. Louis, how soon will we run into your people?” James had untied his string tie and had it hanging on either side of his neck. But he stroked the tails of the tie, just as if it had been properly positioned.
“Why? Does the thought of meeting my people make you nervous? Make your collar a bit tight?” She taunted.
He shrugged. “You keep talking about four angry Indian men. Which should make any white man tremble a bit in his boots, the reaction you’re obviously hoping for. But my obligation to keep you safe will end when I turn you over, so I’m motivated to meet them. Bring them on.”
Elise swung back around and began trotting on ahead again. Not the answer she had hoped for. “You may get your wish b
y nightfall. Possibly, tomorrow morning. We have more than enough time to chat. So tell me, Slick,” her voice purred as she let him catch up to her and they strode north, eating up the ground, but keeping the river in sight. “Do you enjoy being a gambler?”
James shifted his shoulders again and briefly gazed at the river before he glanced in her direction. As if he were contemplating jumping back into the Mississippi rather than revealing any of his secrets. “Not especially, but I needed to do something after the war ended and I needed money. How’d you become so proficient with the whip?”
“No, James. It’s my turn to ask the questions.” Elise smiled sweetly as she witnessed James’s eyebrows raise. She inhaled deeply, the scents of the forest and the river settling her.
“I only mention your occupation because gambling can quickly become an addiction. Somehow I doubt the import/export business will give you the same euphoria as winning a pot of money.”
He dabbed at his sore nose with his handkerchief. “All of life is a gamble. Fighting a war taught me that much, at least. I’ll be fine as a businessman. With the training I got while in the military, I’ll be able to make a go of it.”
“You’re purposely avoiding my question.” She stopped and punched him in the arm.
“Are you this rough with your brothers? Land sakes, woman.” He rubbed his arm where she’d hit him.
“You may recollect, when we first met I told you I could throw a mean left jab. Growing up with big, strong brothers does have its benefits.” She laughed and put her hand over his, where he rubbed his arm.
He touched his nose again experimentally, shoved his handkerchief back in his vest pocket, and took a step forward. “And the funny thing is, I reckon you don’t need them at all in order to take care of yourself. You’ve probably been bossing them around since before you left the cradle. Let’s go, sweetheart.”
Against her better judgment, she allowed James to continue to accompany her. She told herself she did so merely for her own amusement, to give her an intelligent person to talk with instead of focusing on how far she had to hike. Yet deep down, she admitted his cleverness didn’t even make the top ten on his list of attributes. His lips, however, were another story.
