She turned toward the voice and almost dropped the buckets. Landon was lowering himself in the tub, showing more of his natural state than Keelan wished to view. His hips were slim, his belly taut and flat. A thin line of black hair traveled downward—she squeezed her eyes shut, aghast at where her gaze traveled.
Thankfully, he did not look up, for if he did, he would have seen a heightened blush covering young Mahdi’s face. Instead, he immediately reached for a slab of soap and rubbed it in his hands then briskly rubbed the soapy suds over his face. He paused in his work and cocked his head to the side.
“The warm water, Marcel?”
There was no way to avoid her duties, it’d be best to take advantage of Landon’s temporary blindness. Keeping her gaze carefully averted, she pitched the first bucket into his bath. In her haste to be done, she didn’t think to divert the stream away from his body. The hot water hit him full force in the chest.
At his yelp of pain, Keelan froze and it took her a fraction of a second before she jerked into action. She picked up a nearby pitcher and to reverse the effect of the scalding deluge, flung the contents in the same general direction.
At the sudden blast of colder water on his lap, Landon’s eyelids flew open. A bellow followed as soapy rivulets streamed in to his eyes. He hurriedly splashed his face to cease the merciless burning.
“Damnation!” he roared, rising from the water and reaching for a towel to mop his face. “Are you trying to maim me or geld me?”
Horrified at the sights he revealed, she stepped back as the sound of running feet approached from the hallway behind her. The cabin door flung open wide, hitting her full force on her backside and sending her flying headfirst onto Landon’s chest. Momentum carried both man and waif back into the tall brass tub with a loud splash.
Conal’s voice sounded concerned. “Landon, I heard—”.
Her hips hinged over the lip and her feet flailed in the air as she made a desperate attempt to heave her upper body up and out. The smooth wet sides were slippery, and she couldn’t push herself up, her face plunged back in the water covering Landon’s lap. She floundered madly to gain purchase and push herself upright. Landon finally grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face out of the water.
Sputtering and coughing, she braced a hand on his stomach and pushed herself upright. The realization of where her other hand rested put her into a mild panic. She fumbled to scramble from the tub, only to slip forward against his chest again. Fighting furiously to free herself from the proximity of his naked body, she shoved harder against him, this time eliciting a grunt of pain.
“In God’s name, would you stop thrashing about before you succeed in making me completely useless to a woman ever more?” Frustration was evident in his tone, making Keelan cringe.
With measured patience, Landon stood up, grasped her around the waist, and made to deposit her out to the floor, however, both the boards and the tub sides were slippery. He lost his balance, causing his hands to slip up along her ribs.
She gasped and froze. His eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open at the soft curves beneath his hands. Their eyes locked and for a moment and neither seemed able to draw a breath. She jerked away from him only to slip on the wet floor. There was no one capable of catching her this time. Her backside hit the wet, wooden planks, causing her to expel a pained grunt.
Both Conal and Landon stood frozen with shock.
Surprise and amazement give way to total disbelief as Landon’s gaze slid over her body. The floppy hat had flown from her head when she fell in. Her hair had broken free of the tie, allowing it to hang in streams of wet, curly, ringlets. She chanced a quick glance down. In the struggle, her vest had come open. Beneath it, her soaked shirt clung to her like a second skin, leaving Landon a clear view of her chest. The silky white of her breasts contrasted sharply with the deep tan of her neck, face, and arms. Soft, pink, peaks strained against the fabric bandages, leaving Keelan no secrets to withhold from his astonished gaze.
Likewise, Conal stood paralyzed in his tracks, jaw agape; hand still on the door latch. When he finally did find his voice, it came out as a lame croak.
“I’ll…be…damned.”
She scrambled away from Conal’s surprised visage and backed against the far wall, snatching her vest closer about her.
“Keelan?” Landon said softly.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Is it you, Keelan?”
Landon could barely believe his eyes. Her skin was as dark as a native savage. Her hair had been cut and stained as well. If he hadn’t felt the curve of her breast, he’d never have guessed the boy, Mahdi, was a woman. Although, if he’d looked closer, her eyes would have betrayed her earlier. Her eyes haunted his dreams whether sleeping or awake, glittering emeralds with threads of gold in the center.
A weary air of defeat fell upon her like a sodden blanket. After a moment, she nodded mutely. Her shoulders dropped as she fixed her stare at the cabin floorboards.
“Conal,” Landon strained to find his voice. “I must swear you to secrecy. Not a word of this to anyone, or Keelan’s safety will be compromised. Please leave us.”
“Aye, Landon.”
Conal’s amusement was barely contained behind the curt nod of his head. The corners of his mouth twitched. What the man found so bloody amusing was beyond Landon’s comprehension at the moment. Keelan’s presence on the Seeker muddled up his plan considerably. Annette Camsby’s face filtered through his mind, and he mentally cringed at the added layer of discomfiture.
If both women had done what they’d been told, everything would have worked out.
The door closed; Conal’s footfalls in the passageway died away.
The air in the cabin seemed to sharpen and pierce his chest like a million needles in the rigid silence following the click of the latch.
Keelan continued to study the worn floor boards.
Did she have any inkling what she’d put him through the past couple of days? He couldn’t find her. He’d barely slept. He had feared she’d been retaken by Gampo, or worse, Garrison. He ran out of places to search for her after she left the tavern. Schoen’s maid had told him she’d gone with a dark man. The sun-bronzed skin of a seaman, of a pirate…of Gampo…contaminated his thoughts, and he found he was unable to form a strategy. Conal dragged him back to the Seeker to settle for a bit and think things through. They had a route schedule to keep; lives depended upon it and to be late could be deadly. He wanted to track Gampo, the bastard.
The dark man the maid saw was likely Daniel, who would have stayed with his mistress.
The more Landon stewed, the angrier he became. Combined, the lack of sleep, worry, and frustration added to the relief at seeing her alive; it all churned in a roiling, turbulent swirl of emotion. Before he could stop himself, he grasped her shoulders, gave her a jolting shake, and brought his scowling face inches from her own.
“What are you thinking, you little minx? Do you realize what you’ve done?” He shook her again. “You should not be on this ship!”
“Unhand me,” she hissed furiously as she attempted to jerk free of his hold. “Your fingers bite into my wounds.”
He immediately released her but did not move from his stance. Was all this a game to her? She remained frozen, rooted to her spot, her gaze on his face, eyes flashing green fire.
Landon clenched his fists and shook his wet head in frustration. He snatched a towel and secured it about his waist, and then, in an attempt to cool his ire, paced the cabin.
“Conal and I have been searching for you. I received a message from Commodore Hall, belatedly, stating he was urgently summoned north. He feared he couldn’t deliver you safely, so he chose to leave you behind. Schoen’s had informed me of Gampo’s offered reward, so I went back to the Whistling Pig, where we were informed you had left the day prior, although the maid knew not where. We rode to Jared Grey’s town house, then to Twin Pines, to find it half burned to the ground, as was Garrison’s residence and of
fice here in town.”
She gasped and her eyes widened. “Uncle Jared and Aunt Sarah…are they…”
“Unharmed,” he said, quickly. “They were in Charleston at the time. Garrison’s place was burned down the night I found you at the warehouse. One of my men saw the doctor loitering about the livery and followed him here, to the Seeker. When he booked passage, we allowed it with the hope he might lead us to you.” He continued to pace, expending the energy generated by hours of worry and fear. “Every place we searched and did not find you, tore at my peace of mind, nearly driving me mad," he said hoarsely.
Pausing in front of her, he gripped her upper arms again in torment. “My God, Keelan, I feared Gampo took you. I feared you dead!”
Determined not to be softened by his show of concern, Keelan lifted her chin. “Oh? You were so concerned for my welfare, you almost forgot about Annette Camsby’s madeira!” She peeled his fingers from her arms. “It would seem your anguish over my well-being took flight the moment she planted herself with such familiarity on your boat!”
“It’s a ship, not a boat,” he muttered, the edge of his mouth tight.
She poked his chest with her finger wishing it were a dagger instead, so he’d feel the same sting. Dear Lord, just hearing his voice was painful for her. “You black-hearted snake! You wanted me on Commodore Hall’s ship, because you had a liaison planned on this one with one of your mistresses. Your tender words and warm promises are worth less than the ocean water beneath this boat.”
He actually looked chagrined. Ha. He’d been caught. At least he had the decency to be embarrassed. She’d wanted to hear the truth, and now she had. She’d been such an idiot. A naive little fool.
No doubt he regretted the truth being outed more than his recent actions.
“Sail away with me, Keelan. I want you with me, Keelan,” she mimicked. Angry tears threatened, and she whirled away from him before he could see how deeply she had fallen for his ploy and how dupable she’d been. “I was nothing more than another conquest to you, a gullible maid, easy to fool. It’s obvious you changed your mind, and decided against taking me with you. Rather than being man enough to tell me yourself, you simply planned to toss me aside and flee.” She strained to prevent her voice from breaking. “You put me on a ship heading north, while you intended to travel south with your mistress.” She brought her fists up to her chest, and pressed them over her heart, but the pain and humiliation only sharpened when he didn’t deny it.
Landon spoke in an even tone behind her, an edge of anger laced his words, “The Desire was too closely monitored, Keelan. Gampo heard us talking at the warehouse, and planned to find you by following me. As a diversion, I sent my vessel south, thinking you’d be sailing north with Hall. It was my hope Gampo would abandon seeking you out in Charleston, and think you’d left on the Desire and follow her to Harbour Town, which would have taken him even farther from you.” A pause. “Dammit Keelan, I was trying to protect you! Choosing this route has only put you in more danger,” he growled.
Strong fingers gripped her shoulders again, and he spun her to face him. She closed her eyes so he couldn’t tell how badly she was hurting. He’d put himself and his ship in jeopardy by offering both as a decoy, which was admirable, if is were true. She wanted to believe him, yet feared the pain he’d inflict on her heart if she was wrong again. While his argument sounded logical, it could be a convenient lie. Annette Camsby was still aboard, probably preparing for dinner. Probably expecting to be served her favorite wine. Probably anticipating Landon inviting her into his bed.
It was too big a risk.
Keelan, gesturing to herself and the space around her, whispered angrily, “Daniel and I had no choice but to choose this route.” She pushed the dripping ringlets of russet and brown-streaked hair from her face. “We couldn’t risk being discovered. Gampo’s men seemed to be everywhere, watching every vessel. After the Glory departed, his men came to search the tavern, so we had to flee first and worry about the heading later. This was the first ship in the harbor set to sail.”
Unbidden and unwanted, the image of Landon and Annette strolling about the deck earlier permeated her mind. Her throat constricted as if a stone were caught in the middle of it. She’d have to steel herself against seeing the two of them together during the voyage to Harbour Town, although she wasn’t sure how. She’d sleep in the pantry, or in the hidden compartment with the runaways down in the hold.
The waves of power and anger resonating from Landon was beginning to become unbearable. She had to get out of this small space. Stepping back in the direction of the door, she drew a deep breath and looked at him. It was time to push him out of her heart. It wouldn’t be easy, but the first step would be to keep physical distance between them, starting now. “Please, just stay away from me. I’ll depart when we reach Harbour Towne. I won’t say anything to Mrs. Camsby, and leave the two of you to your…selves.”
He returned her gaze with one of hot, blue fire. In two strides, he stood before her, his chest inches from her own.
She swallowed. This wasn’t keeping with her plan to keep a distance between them.
Wide shoulders blocked the rest of the cabin from her view. Although she wanted to bolt like a frightened rabbit, she stood her ground.
Landon shook his head, a bewildered expression on his face. “Little fool,” he muttered. Circling his arms about her, he brought her full against his hardened frame and her breath would have left her in a whoosh if she hadn’t gasped in surprise first.
His lips captured hers, demanding…insisting she respond. This was madness. She had to be stronger than this! Keelan tried to pull away, but found herself paralyzed by his touch. His arms, like iron bands, held her immobile. His lips moved against hers in a way that made her forget where she was. His fiery kiss radiated a heat which spread through her body and warmed the core of her soul. His hands slid down her sides and slipped around to caress her buttocks, pressing her to him; the hardness of his passion pulled forth a yearning from deep within her belly. She wanted this, yes. She wanted him. Part of her wanted to shout with joy. He wanted her. But wanting wasn’t enough, not for her. She needed him to want only her.
She desired him, yes, but…not like this. Not with his mistress here, not with the possibility he wanted her, but didn’t actually love her as she loved him.
How was she supposed to defend herself against an assault like this? Landon’s tongue played with hers in an exotic dance. The sweetness of his mouth tormented her self-control. Memories swirled in her mind like a tornado…The two of them, trapped in the small tattered cabin during the storm, his hands on her calves, his lips tracing fire on her thigh…the musky scent of him mixed with leather and rain…the beauty of his face, eyes like the sky….She was unable to hold on to one vision long enough to complete it before another took its place.
Except for one.
Landon and Annette standing close…her hand on his chest. Was he using Keelan for his own temporary satisfaction? Or Annette? Was he using both of them? Dear God, she was still unable to stop kissing him; her free will vanished along with her common sense. Her affection for him was deeper than she wanted to admit, and although her mind told her to stay away from him, it was impossible to retreat when he was this close.
This warm. This passionate. This vibrant.
Still, she managed to bring her hand to his chest and weakly pushed against it. Curiously, instead of shoving him, her hand spread over hardened muscles rippling beneath her fingers. She gasped as his hand found her breast then groaned as his fingers brushed away the fabric binding them, tracing a sensual circle around the taut rosy peak he had somehow freed from bondage.
His kisses traced a fiery trail down her throat, and she drew a ragged breath. As the air rushed into her lungs, her head sought to clear itself from the passion her heart and body so eagerly sought. She wanted more of this, but what if the end result was more pain? Would he be kissing Annette like this was tonight?
&nbs
p; This time, she pushed harder against his chest.
“Landon,” she breathed. “Stop!”
He stopped but didn’t release her. His eyes bored into hers, a glowing, smoldering light visible in the deep blue depths.
“Don’t you understand, sweet Keelan?” He traced the line of demarcation between the darkly stained skin of her chest and the creamy white of her breasts. “My allegiance is to you and you alone. Why would I seek another when my only desire is for you?”
Were these silky words simply a means to get her into his bed? How could she possibly believe him when he’d obviously planned on sending her to Philadelphia while sharing this leg of his journey with Annette? Landon danced with Annette Camsby at Doreen’s ball, her hand on his chest, his arm on her waist. He seemed willing enough to endure her touch and affections then. What had changed? Anything? Nothing?
She couldn’t afford to be enchanted by his charms and sensual kisses but oh, how she wanted to be. She wanted to beg for it.
Although it took every bit of emotional and physical strength she could muster, she managed to push herself away from him.
“Keelan, don’t—” he whispered hoarsely.
Disappointment and regret swirled into anger.
“You have succeeded only in convincing me you are no more than a rutting dog,” she said woodenly, squeezing her eyes shut once again. “Now, unhand me at once! And please, don’t do that again. Ever.” Distance. Distance. Distance.
His arms were slow to comply, but eventually he released her and she jerked away from his heat and penetrating gaze. She focused on repairing her appearance best she could, given the condition of her sodden garments. The wet linen strips which served to both protect her wounds and bind her breasts were useless; they’d dropped around her waist in their soggy state. She groaned in frustration as the bindings ignored her fingers’ demands.
“Perhaps I can lend some assistance,” Landon offered from behind her. His voice was quiet. Was that disappointment in his voice? His ruse didn’t work, and she had discovered his scheme.
Hart's Passion (Pirates & Petticoats Book 2) Page 16
