Chapter 18
“It’s one of those things that happens,” Shane began quietly, but determinedly. “One you read about, but never think will ever happen to you. We were north of St. Louis, heading for New Orleans, when we breasted another steamship, which was also heading south on the river. The Lady Rosalyn was the one we overtook, and our boat was the Lady Eve. The captain bragged about how Eve was the First Lady of the River, as well as being named after the first lady on earth. Said she’d never been beaten in a race.”
“The other boat challenged him?” Ellie asked. “I’ve read about those races.”
Memories strengthened and clamored for escape at the confines of his mind, and Shane shivered despite the heat.
Smells: smoke and charred flesh.
Screams. Oh God, the screams.
He took rigid hold of himself, hoping Ellie hadn’t noticed.
“The thing is, the races had been outlawed for years. The steamboats were used at first mostly for cargo, then as settlements opened up along the river, they carried more and more passengers. The Lady Eve was strictly a passenger boat, with high-stakes gambling games going on all the time for the male passengers. I don’t gamble that much, but there’d been a few problems with our businesses, and I was pretty grouchy and jumpy by the time I got everything straightened out. My mother insisted I take some time off and relax.”
He dropped his head to his chest. Mariana Morgan had blamed herself, lamenting the day she bought him a ticket on the boat and sent him off to his fate. No matter how many times he told her she couldn’t have known, wasn’t at fault, she worried the blame to death, wore it like a hair coat.
Ellie took a step toward him, and his head flew up.
“No. Let me finish.”
“All right,” she said softly, no acrimony left in her voice.
“You’re right, The Lady Rosalyn challenged The Lady Eve. The passengers on the other boat were screaming taunts and making rude gestures at us. I had taken a break from gambling, because I was losing my shirt, and was on deck. I could afford the loss, of course, but the shyster who was winning was a professional. I knew he was cheating, but couldn’t catch him at it. I figured I’d go back later and join a different game. Before I could do that, I heard the boilers below-deck hissing steam and felt the surge of power when the captain decided to accept the race challenge.”
He drew in a breath. “We didn’t get very far. I guess the passengers who weren’t already on deck, probably at least half the boat, realized something was going on. Afterwards, we found out a lot of them were on the stairwells and halls when the first boiler blew.”
“My God,” Ellie breathed.
“It was hell. The force of the blast flung me in the water, and I helped whoever I could get to shore. Shoved them onto loose timbers or buoys; grabbed one woman who was unconscious and swam to shore with her.”
“But...but you were hurt.”
“Not then,” he denied.
“You went back?” she asked in horrified amazement.
“The woman regained consciousness when we got to shore. She started screaming about her daughter. That she was still on the boat. When we looked back, the little girl was at the railing near the prow of the steamboat—where the fire hadn’t reached yet. Frantic, the mother went into the water, but she couldn’t swim. She tried to find a log or something to float her back out there, but I pulled her to shore again.”
He gazed at Ellie. “The little girl was barely three years old. Blond and a pretty little thing. She had her whole life ahead of her. She was standing there with her little arms stretched toward us. She could see her mother, and she was screaming ‘Mommie! Mommie!’“
“Oh, Shane.”
“I thought I had time to get to her before the fire did. Even if I didn’t, I couldn’t stand there and let her burn to death right in front of our eyes. The worst part was getting up the side of the boat, but some of the crew had thrown rope ladders over the sides to escape themselves, plus the boat was already foundering, so the climb wasn’t that far. I had her in my arms when the second boiler blew. The entire ship went up in steam and flames, but they told me later that I managed to hold onto her when the force of the blast blew me into the water for the second time.”
He gave a harsh sound. “The blast itself blew us nearly to shore, close enough for people to wade out and get us. I had her in front of me, so she was protected, but it was days before I regained consciousness. Evidently, the doctor thought it better to keep me out of it until the worst of the pain was over.” He sighed, and continued in a musing voice, “If what I still ended up experiencing was less pain, I’m glad I didn’t go through the first few days in a conscious state.”
Ellie pulled herself up to her full height—not much, but her expression made her seem taller—and settled her palms on her hips again.
“I can’t believe you’re ashamed of those scars after the way they happened! You were a hero, Shane Morgan. You saved several people, and you gave a little girl a chance to live her life. How dare you be ashamed of yourself!”
“You aren’t the one who saw the woman you thought loved you turn away from you in revulsion,” he said in a deadly quiet voice. “Leave you and send your betrothal ring back by messenger less than an hour later.”
Ellie froze. Drawing her lip in, she chewed it for a few seconds, continuing to scrutinize him. What was going on in that pretty head of hers now?
“So—” She bit off her words and shook her head, white curls shimmering in the moonlight and a look he nearly thought might be jealousy on her face. Of course it wasn’t.
“Did you love her deeply?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Love? Honestly, now that I look back on it—no.” He tilted his head in concentration. “No, I truly thought I loved her. Thought she loved me. Our... relationship lasted for over two years.”
“Oh,” she murmured.
“Thought so until this afternoon.”
Her eyes flew back to his. “What do you mean?”
“This afternoon I found out what lovemaking really meant. Found the meaning, and lost it, all within the space of a few hours.”
She gazed quietly at him for such a long time, curls of dread coiled in his stomach. What was going on behind those pretty blue eyes, inside that beautiful head? Was she getting ready to bolt on him again? Admit to him that yes, she had begun to care for him, but now she couldn’t overcome her revulsion at his body?
“Why do you think you’ve lost it?” she asked into the stretching silence.
Hope infiltrated the dread in his belly, but he refused to leave himself open to another bout of humiliation today. Still, “Haven’t I?” somehow found its way past his clogged throat.
“I asked you why, Shane. Because I saw your scars, and now you think I’m repulsed by them?”
“Aren’t you?”
“Damn it, Shane Morgan! You’re making me curse again! I pulled your shirt loose to cover you because I didn’t want you to get sunburned, not because I wanted to hide your scars from my eyes. I left because you fell asleep on me and it ticked me off, not because I was repulsed. If you wouldn’t go so silent and deep on me, if you’d ask me why I did something rather than read erroneous things into my actions, maybe we’d be able to sort things out!”
He went silent and deep, although he tried to shout out his feelings. Hope crawled past the dread, however, and clogged his throat effectively this time. All he could manage was to hold out a hand—then jerk it back and mis-grab at the pillow that fell on the floor.
Ellie shook her head. “No,” she said. “Talking won’t do a bit of good. You obviously have to be shown.”
She walked over to him, pushed his knees apart and snuggled up to his chest, her breast tips sending a tingling racing to his groin. Circling her arms around his neck, she told him, “I’m glad that other woman was stupid enough to break her betrothal to you, Shane. Otherwise, I couldn’t have met you. Fallen in love with you.”
His heart stopped, racing forward almost immediately. He never imagined hearing Ellie say she loved him would mean so very much, but he needed to tell her the rest of it. Her love meant more than she could ever know, meant the hope in his throat might bear fruit this time. He couldn’t possibly let her continue with lies still between them.
Couldn’t tell her of his love for her in return with a misunderstanding looming largely between them.
“Ellie,” he said with a groan. “There’s more.”
“No, that’s enough for tonight.”
She kissed him, and he could no more stop himself from kissing her back, from circling his arms around her tenderly yet firmly, than he could have single-handedly held back the blast and flames on the steamboat. She curled her arms tighter, and he swept her with him, lay back on the bed and settled her beside him. He only had time for one final comment.
“Don’t make love to me because you pity me, Ellie,” he whispered.
“Pity you? Oh, Shane, if there’s anything to pity about you, I haven’t found it yet. I’ve been too busy enjoying what I have found.”
She cuddled every delectable inch of that delectable body closer to him, fitting it exactly where it needed to be against his. The thin night rail was nearly indiscernible between them, except for the way it kept him from enjoying the soft satin of her skin. With one fell swoop, he sent it to join the other clothing in the corner.
Ellie giggled. “I don’t guess I’ll ever get used to how easily you manhandle me.”
Shane froze. “I—”
She kissed him quiet. “I meant that in a good way, Shane Morgan. You took that night rail off me as easily as scattering thistledown on a windy day.”
“As easy as that, huh? Well, you’re tiny but you pack more womanhood into that beautiful body of yours than a man would ever think possible, Ellie. Don’t ever let any of that escape with the thistledown, all right?”
“I promise. Now, are you going to talk all night, or are you going to kiss me?”
Shane smiled evilly at her. “I thought you wanted me to talk. Isn’t that what you came in here screaming about? My not talking to you?”
“Look, mister,” she said. “I might have only been vaguely aware of what this lovemaking business was all about up until this afternoon, but now I know when it’s time to talk, when it’s time to act. You on the other hand must be a very slow learner.”
“I’ve created an insatiable zealot,” Shane said with a groan.
Pushing his shoulders back onto the bed with no resistance, she clambered onto his stomach and wiggled into place. Wiggled that tiny body in such a manner, she scattered dashes of need through his body. He bit down a rumble of desire that surely would have scared her into retreat had he voiced it. But she evidently knew what she sought—found it when it sprang up to meet her wiggle. Wiggled against it, too.
The only way he could keep his groans from waking the entire household—betraying their lovemaking and ending it, which was not an option at this point—was to give Ellie the sounds. Kiss her, utter them into her mouth, follow the sounds with his tongue and trap them.
Only she learned quickly, did his Ellie.
His Ellie.
She met his tongue with her smaller one, hers so much quicker and fleeter than his, so capable of increasing his desire to that nearly uncontrollable pitch.
His hands skimmed that satin skin, cupped her hips, held her in place to soothe the throbbing part in control of him now.
No, this tiny sprite on his belly controlled him, broke every barrier before it formed, held sway over him more competently with the soft, misty sounds of her own pleasure than if she had demanded her own satisfaction more vocally.
And she left no doubt in his mind he pleasured her; that her movements were meant to show him how much he was giving her. It was as though their minds met along with their bodies. As though the more Ellie gave him, the more she received in return. Never had he felt such power flow between a man and woman.
He parted her legs and nudged at what he wanted, but before he could stop her, she slithered off him like quicksilver. Kneeling over him, she shook her head, breasts heaving with passion and platinum hair cascading over her shoulders to hide them. Still her nipples peaked far too hard to be lost completely in the tumbled tresses.
“Turn over,” she said when he tried to reach for her breasts.
He froze. “No. I won’t do that, Ellie.”
She lifted an eyebrow in warning. “Either turn over or I’ll leave.”
Instinctively, he reached to grab her, but she shimmied off the bed, standing beside it in that determined stance once more, palms on hips and legs steady, a mutinous pout on her scrumptious lips.
“I can’t, Ellie,” he murmured. “Give me some more time.”
She backed away a step. Looked around the room, her gaze pausing on the heap of clothing in the corner, with her night rail on top. The other eyebrow inquired him, telling him she only had to retrieve the worn gown and let him linger alone on the wrong side of sated desire.
Slowly, he shifted in the bed, but only to his side. “Only if you promise to not light any of the sconces,” he said.
“I promise.”
He gritted his teeth, and never removing his gaze from her face, he turned onto his stomach.
She studied his back for a long moment, then flicked a glance at his face. “I saw them this afternoon, you know.”
“Yes, but—”
“But what?”
“I didn’t know it then.”
“I don’t understand,” she said in puzzlement. “Why is your being aware of me looking at your back different than me looking at in when you don’t know what’s going on?”
“It just is,” he said truculently.
“Well, get over it, buster,” she told him, stepping over to the bed and reaching out her hands.
He couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, no matter how hard he ordered them to watch her face. Her caresses weren’t caresses now, they were tentative touches of exploration. Her fingers smoothed the puckers he could feel, massaged the scars.
“I want you to let me put some lotion on these later, Shane,” she said. “It’s something Darlene told me about, which she plans to use when she gets with child.”
His eyes opened willingly—in astonishment. “You want to smooth a lotion on me that pregnant women use?”
She laughed. “Darlene says one of her married friends told her about it. It keeps the skin smooth and supple and helps heal any stretch marks that do happen to form. I think it will make the skin softer and not so tight here.”
“I see.”
Ellie skimmed one hand down his left hip and traced the edge of the scarring just past his hipbone. “At least it didn’t get the important part of you.”
Shane’s laughter burst free and filled the room. Shushing him, Ellie leaped for his mouth to stifle it. He took advantage and captured her waist, dragging her back onto the bed. Opening his mouth, he drew two of her fingers in and lapped his tongue around them.
“Ummmm,” Ellie murmured. “The only thing I can think of that feels better is your mouth kissing me.”
So he did.
Chapter 19
Ellie reluctantly slipped out of Shane’s room and back to her own before dawn. Yawning, she gathered fresh clothing and took them to the upstairs bathing room, freshened up and dressed, then headed downstairs. Fatima gave her a searching look when she entered the kitchen, and Ellie walked over and hugged the other woman. This morning, she loved the whole world.
“I don’t know who you really are, or even what you really are,” she told Fatima, “but I believe you only want what’s best for me.”
Smiling, Fatima stroked Ellie’s cheek. “Who I am, is your fairy godmother, like I’ve told you all along. What I am is the same thing—your fairy godmother. And I most definitely want what’s best for you, Ellie.”
“It appears that you have a productive matchmaking already underway,”
she said with a grin. “You and Withers make a very unlikely, but nice couple.”
Fatima closed her eyes dreamily. “He is such a hunk of human.”
“Hunk?”
Ellie’s laughter broke through Fatima’s thoughts and the fairy woman scowled at her.
“Of course he is. Haven’t you noticed how well he’s built under all those fussy clothes? And after last night, I’d think you’d know what a well-built man can do to flutter a woman’s heart.”
“Were you spying on me again?” Ellie returned Fatima’s scowl with one of her own. “I—”
Fatima sighed and waved Ellie into silence. “I’ve told you and told you that I don’t spy on you, Ellie. But wooden floors creak, you know. Down here in the kitchen it’s very easy to track a person’s footsteps overhead. From Shane’s bedroom, to yours, to the bathing room and then down the stairs here to the kitchen.”
“Oh.” Cheeks flushing in embarrassment, Ellie glanced toward the ceiling. Hopefully Elvina and Darlene hadn’t heard the footsteps.
“Don’t worry,” Fatima said as though reading her worry. “The sounds are much more audible down here than upstairs, especially when a person’s walking around in bare feet.”
Ellie heard a new set up footsteps overhead and understood. The heavy creaks of the wooden floor indicated they belonged to Shane. Still she needed to let Fatima know one thing.
“My relationship with Shane is my own business, Fatima.”
Fatima turned to the stove, but Ellie was almost sure she saw a tiny smirk on the woman’s lips before she concealed her face from closer examination.
“Of course your relationship with Shane is private.” Fatima turned the ham pieces in the skillet, then bent to check the biscuits in the oven. Ellie’s stomach growled, and she decided not to take a chance on alienating Fatima until at least after breakfast. The woman truly could cook.
“Ummmmmm, something smells great.” Shane strode into the kitchen. “Elvina got a jewel of a cook when she snagged you, Fatima. Good morning, Ellie.”
“Morning,” Ellie said with a smile, while Fatima giggled in pleasure.
Southern Charms Page 18
