Her Wicked Captain: The River Rogues, Book 1 (17 page)

Her.

“Dell, your character is nothing like mine,” he agreed quietly. “Except that we both love to gamble. I can see it in your eyes. It’s the way folks like us survive when we ain’t got no one else.” His voice broke softly, his words slipping back to the uncultured roots of the lost boy from Tennessee. “Maybe I’ll make a decent man someday, do something selfless, something to help other people if I had the opportunity…with Moreaux gone. His money’s not important to me, neither. But you and I take risks others won’t. I took a risk on you, angel. Won’t you take one on me?”

Yes. The answer formed in quick response to his earnest question. That would’ve been so easy to say. He was a smooth-talker, and she’d best remember that. Right now, with his grip loosening and his thumb coaxing her to comply with gentle caresses across her pulse-point, she had only to open her mouth and she would agree.

On top of everything else Rory made her feel, she felt responsible for him too. Like she could somehow make up for her mother’s abandonment of him with this one favor.

What had made her mother leave him? She would probably never understand.

“Damn it, Philadelphia. If you knew Moreaux better, you’d think twice about giving him your mercy.” He let go of her, braced his hands on his temples, and closed his eyes against some thought. When he reopened them, he’d shuttered his emotions. His chest rose and fell, as he appeared to collect himself. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, but I pray you’ll think it over.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her close, kissing her. Her heart beat harder, responding automatically to his presence and touch. His tongue traced her bottom lip and she opened for him, yearning for the intimacy they’d shared the night before. He deepened the kiss, giving her tongue a quick flick as he sidled closer and slid a hand down the arch of her back. She leaned into him, and felt his hands tighten on her, holding her closer as if she would somehow slip through his fingers.

Much too soon, he pulled back, though still embracing her, and he pressed a lingering kiss against her forehead. “We’ll talk this evening.”

Kit’s returning footsteps sounded at the door. Rory released her and moved away.

Dell rubbed her arms as emptiness swept over her, torn between helping Rory and saving herself.

Chapter Twenty

Thinking about the gamblers’ greed and dreams of retribution left Dell with a headache that afternoon. She retired straight to her room, aching with the decision she would have to make.

Not that it would make anything better, she knew, but she grabbed Rory’s bottle of rum and a glass, thirsting for something to take the edge off what had been a harrowing day. After replacing the stopper in the bottle, buttery vapors from the glass drifted to her nose, and her body’s response was instantaneous.

Rum would remind her of Rory forevermore, she supposed. His scent, his taste. Her hand curled around the glass, bringing it closer to inhale as her eyelids fell shut, awash in memories of last night. His gentle hands, his worshipful words praising her spirit and beauty. Her stomach tingled pleasantly—

Pow-pow-pow.

The sudden staccato of gunfire made Dell jerk, and the glass dropped from her hand to clunk on the hardwood floor. She flew through the door and out of the bedroom, her mind whirling with thoughts of Rory returning from Wainwright’s alone and Moreaux’s men, Laughton and Balfour, with their pistols on their hips.

What she found when she reached the deck wasn’t a gunman at all, but Asa. The boy had a shiny new pepperbox revolver and aimed it at a row of cans set across the deck railing.

“Good lord, son, give me that!” She took the pistol from his loose grip. “We’re in port. There are too many people around for you to be out here target shooting.”

Asa grinned. “Ain’t she a beaut, though? It’s not nearly as accurate as the captain’s, but it’s mine. Quintus gave it to me.” He patted his hip where a new holster hung low, barely holding onto his bony pelvis. “I’ve always wanted one, but Rory said I had to wait until I was sixteen.”

She examined the gun and removed the last round. “Very wise of him. Is the gift in exchange for your holdout device?”

Asa frowned as she returned the empty weapon to him. “Quintus says every boy needs a gun when he becomes a man. He always gives his boys gifts.”

Dell rolled the bullet between her fingers. She knew Quintus had brought Rory home from an orphanage just a year before she’d left. Had there been others? “Asa, how many young men has Mr. Moreaux raised?”

He holstered the gun. “I’m the third that I know of after Rory. There was a boy before he brought me here, but he died. Consumption. There might’ve been another. I don’t know.”

Quintus collected lost boys like farmers collected stray cats. She shuddered thinking about that wretched man showing up at an orphanage, plotting to bring home a youngster to mold into a killer.

Hiding her revulsion, she patted Asa’s shoulder. “Okay. Just be sure to do your practice shooting on sandbars and open places, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She headed back to the captain’s quarters, but her thoughts slowed her steps.

Another frail boy taken in by Moreaux who’d died? No wonder Rory was so protective if he thought of these wards like brothers. And Asa had been so ill… Knowing his guardian’s penchant for duels, Rory would try to steer these boys from using guns too soon.

Guilt weighed her down. She should’ve been more understanding with Rory. Of course he’d been eager to be free of Moreaux, but he’d also wanted to put an end to the man’s succession of killers-in-training.

Now despite Rory’s precautions, Asa had a gun. The boy needed guidance. If Moreaux was going to give the gift of a weapon, then he’d better take responsibility for what the child did. She would make sure he heard her opinion on the subject!

She marched to her stepfather’s office, but halfway there, she ran into Moreaux’s moll. The madam smiled broadly. Her porcelain skin had been powdered, giving it iridescence in the afternoon sun. Dell conceded the lady was beautiful and bore a small resemblance to her mother that went beyond the same mode of sultry dress and makeup. She would’ve avoided her if she could, but the woman stood in her path as if seeking an introduction.

“You are Rory’s
amant
,
oui
?” When Dell hesitated, searching for the meaning of her French word, the woman nodded. “But of course you are.
Vous êtes d’une beauté innocente avec le corps d’une déesse.
”

With the way the madam’s gaze raked over Dell’s frame, her words had to translate to something about her being beautiful, but she doubted the lady’s true intention was to compliment.
Rory’s lover?
And
innocent
? Her cheeks heated and she made an angry fist around Asa’s bullet.

“
Je m’appelle
Vivienne LeBlanc, but Rory calls me Viv.”

I’ll bet he does.
“What does Quintus call you?” Dell cringed inwardly at her own barb born out of jealousy—the second time that day she’d made a remark she’d regretted.

Viv’s blue eyes brightened. “Whatever he wants.” The madame looked over both shoulders and then spoke low. “Walk with me,
s’il vous plaît
. I wish to talk with you.”

Dell looked for someone to intervene, but they were alone. Most of the crew were below, getting ready for the night’s guests.

LeBlanc moved gracefully beside her along the breezeway. “I am delighted to see another woman joining Quintus’s crew. Molly is beautiful but the others are…
très banales
. Ah, bland. I have told the men before, if they wish to bring in more customers, they must employ the finest women possible. And not only that, but women who will accommodate the needs and tastes of their customers. Quintus is savvy, but he is still more gambler than businessman.”

Dell recalled the ledger she’d seen in Moreaux’s office. His business was in the red. He owed money in Memphis, having too many payouts and not enough wins for the house. Rory was clever to engage Wainwright in a game at such a time. The lure of a high-stakes wager would be impossible for his boss to resist.

“I doubt they’d consider me as much of a draw for anyone.”

Viv turned her head, sharing a reserved smile. “Oh, but you are. In all the ports from New Orleans to Cincinnati, men love their
exotiques
. That is what I told Rory yesterday.”

Yesterday? “You saw him in the city?” Not a question she wanted to know the answer to, but she couldn’t help herself. Why was it suddenly important to know whether or not he visited his lover? Dell had no claim on him.

“
Oui.
I hope you liked the dresses he bought for you. Miss Elizabeth is a fine seamstress,
non
?” She passed her ivory hand down her lace bodice for Dell’s consideration.

Her teeth clenched.

“
Maintenant
, you must tell me, how did your visit with the
Monsieurs
Wainwright go? Were they enamored with your beauty?” She leaned close to Dell in a conspiratorial whisper as one of the crew passed by. The whites of her eyes at close range were red. “Quintus was pleased when you received the invitation to his old foe’s home.”

Dell blanched. Did the madam know about Rory’s plan? How much would he want her to say?

“It was just a casual visit. His nephew is an acquaintance.”

Vivienne’s hand caught her arm, her expression serious. “If one of them offers you a sum to come to bed, you must ask for double. That is my advice to you, since you are an
ingénue
. The coyer you are, the more the old fox will be willing to pay. I told Rory you would bring him wealthy customers, and I see I was right.” She wagged an index finger in front of Dell’s nose. “Double what Wainwright offers. Do not accept a penny less.”

Sleep with Christopher or Bartholomew? Dell closed her eyes against a wave of nausea. Rory and this woman had been discussing using her as a whore. Really? Rory used low tactics, especially when it came to gambling and revenge, but to use her body? Had he intended for her to seduce the widower if needed to complete his plans?

“Philadelphia, I want to be your first lover.”

First?

No. She had to be wrong! He wouldn’t want that to happen to her.

But Rory played his cards close to his chest. Who knew how far he’d go? He’d spoken of sharing a future with her, but how? As business partners…or lovers? He’d had no qualms about sharing Viv in both respects.

After parting with Madam LeBlanc and passing up her stepfather’s door, Dell collapsed in a deck chair to watch the passengers boarding the gangway. She would face Moreaux later over Asa’s new gun when she was in better spirits. Now instead, she would wait for Rory. She had only to ask him what he expected from her, and she’d have the truth. No one could lie to her.

Her eyes burned with sudden tears. Honesty had never mattered before, but she needed it now.

She’d never lost her heart before, either, but she’d certainly fallen in love with the wicked captain.

Shortly after sunset, Rory boarded the
Queen
along with a steady stream of new guests, and tamped down his disappointment when he didn’t see Dell on the deck waiting for him. He knew he was wrong to expect her to, though, after he’d stayed gone so long. He’d wanted to come back with her. The thought of her sharing a carriage with Kit didn’t sit well. The man smiled at her too damn much!

Christ, it wasn’t as if he owned the woman. She could do as she pleased. It just infuriated him knowing there wasn’t a thing he could say to stop her from climbing into another man’s bed.

Or could he?

He knocked on the door to his quarters. He’d used a bathhouse in town to clean up a bit, but he needed a change of clothes for the night. And…hell, he wanted to spend a little more time alone with Dell before they went to work.

A scraping sound came from inside the room, but after he waited, there was no answer. It wasn’t like Dell. His gut tightened. Even if she was angry with him—which she very well could be for him dragging her to Wainwright’s with no explanation—she would never ignore him. He opened the door, his hand on his gun.

In front of the bed sat a tub. Steamy vapors filled the air with the delicate perfume of honeysuckle. His body reacted immediately to Dell’s scent, sending blood rushing to his groin, though he soon cursed his slow reflexes as skin blurred past. Dell plunged into the bath with a splash before he could enjoy the view.

“Get out!” she snapped.

He grinned, his mood already better. “Good evening, to you, too, angel.” He kicked the door closed, unable to take his eyes off her.

She had her hair piled loose on top of her head with a few long, walnut waves clinging to her neck, running down into the valley between her breasts. He stood on the toes of his boots, hoping to catch a glimpse of her beneath the water.

“Shoo!” she flung a hand at him, slinging a plume of water on his suit.

He laughed. “I thought you’d be glad to see me.”

“You thought wrong. Can I have a little privacy?”

He walked around the tub. Her legs moved under the water as she tried to hide herself. Perspiration broke on his forehead. He’d meant to talk with her, to apologize for earlier, but words could wait.

“Damn, that looks hot.” He stopped, standing just above her.

“Of course it’s hot. I wasn’t ready to get in yet.” She glared at him, holding her arm across her chest. Her face flushed.

“You should get out, let it cool.” He slid his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

“Not with you watchin’ me.”

He shrugged. “Nothin’ I haven’t seen before.” When she didn’t budge, only stared up at him through eyes gone glassy, he sighed and went to get the towel. He opened it for her and averted his eyes. “I’m sorry. Come on.”

He heard the water slosh and felt her tug on the towel. He wrapped it around her along with his arms, bringing her against him as he lifted her out of the tub.

He turned his face into her throat. She smelled so good. “I hate to see you scalding yourself because of me, Dell. You don’t like me anymore?”

She didn’t answer, but slowly her arms wound around his neck. “We need to talk, but I’m getting you all wet.”

“I don’t mind.” He licked her throat, tasted her sweet skin on his tongue. She moaned softly in response, and all rational thought disintegrated from his brain as his shaft took over. His hands slipped over her slick shoulders and arms. She felt as good as she smelled. He kissed her ear and whispered, “Talk to me.”

Dell trembled. “All right.” He heard her swallow, and her fingers slid into his hair. “About today…”

Rory closed his eyes. The pleasure of her breasts pressing against his chest made his mind as foggy as the air around her bathwater. “What about today?” He kissed the soft skin under the ridge of her cute, stubborn chin.

“Um, well,” she spoke softly, “after I got back, I…ah…I found Asa shooting at targets on the deck.”

He pulled her towel lower, exposing the side of her bosom, which he quickly cupped in his palm. “That’s my fault. He’s seen me do that. I’ll talk to him.” He kissed the slope of her shoulder. Painfully hard, he rubbed his erection against her naked skin. “Whatcha say we get those bedsheets wet?”

“Please,” she said, slightly out of breath. Her fingertips stopped his lips just as he was about to kiss her breast. “You’ve got to ask your boss not to give the boy weapons without showing him how to handle them.”

Her words hit him with the force of a steam engine. He leaned back, holding her at arm’s length. “Moreaux gave him a gun? A new gun?”

“Yes.” She frowned. “Uncle Reuben gave me my first shotgun when I was eight so I could help put food on the table, but I never got to touch it unless he was with me.”

The bitterness in her voice reflected the same he felt, but his boss’ impulsive gift meant so much more than she imagined. He cast his eyes over her with regret. “I have to go.”

“Wait. That’s not the only thing I have to discuss—”

He touched her cheek as her expression darkened, then turned for the door. “I’ll be back later.”

He had to find Asa and warn him. It always started with a gun and other gifts. The abuse followed soon after—

“Rory?” He turned at her voice. She had the towel wrapped around her slender body. “I understand why you want to beat Quintus at the table. But I have to know, where would you draw the line? Just how far would you go to bring him down?” She held his gaze.