Kimberly Nee - The McKenzie Brothers (9 page)

He came out of his reverie then, smiling down at her. “What are you thinking about?”

“It’s beautiful out here.” The lie rolled off her tongue easily. She certainly couldn’t tell him what she had
really
been thinking. He was very clear in his unwillingness to discuss his former fiancée.

“That it is,” he sighed, leaning forward to rest his forearms against the railing, linking his fingers. “There is nothing like being out on the ocean. Nothing compares.”

“Are you are planning to return to London?”

His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry?”

“I heard you tell Jameson that you would be back.”

“Oh, I most likely will be, eventually. But not any time soon.” He smiled down at her as the wind ruffled his hair into dark peaks. “I think I’ll stay in Brunswick for a while. I need to get my family to forgive me for my desertion. Could you imagine if I left just a few months later? They’d disown me for certain.”

“Your family is close?”

He turned, this time leaning his back against the railing. “I suppose we are. My brother is my best friend and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for either of my sisters. Of course, I don’t see Emma all that often. She’s the older of the two girls. Married now. Lives with her husband in Connecticut. They have a little girl of their own now. Mary’s the youngest and constantly on the lookout for a husband. She puts your young hopefuls to shame.”

“Tell me about your brother. You say he is your best friend, yet you rarely ever mention him.”

“Garrett? Garrett’s Garrett. He’s the oldest, the responsible, serious one — for the most part. He can be a bit more hotheaded than the rest of us, but — ” Drew shrugged. “ — he’s mellowed a bit since he was married last year. Kat’s good for him. Very good for him, actually.”

She caught a handful of her hair, pulling it out of her eyes. “And then there’s you.”

“And then there’s me.”

“The rogue in the family?”

“They certainly seem to think so.”

She grinned. “I think they might have a point.”

“Think so, do you?”

“At times.”

A devilish glint leaped into his blue eyes as he shifted, moving to stand behind her. He placed his hands on the railing, on either side of her, and leaned close to whisper, “Such as last evening, love?”

“You are terrible.”

He nuzzled her. “You didn’t think so then.”

“I was not in my right mind.”

His laughter was soft in her ear. “Of course you were. I had no idea so passionate and lusty a lady hid beneath your proper exterior.”

She sighed softly as his hair brushed her cheek. At that moment, she didn’t care about this former flame. All that mattered to her was that she was there with him. His arms were around her, and his lips were moving along her neck. When night fell, her body would be the one Drew reached for and pulled close in his sleep. For now, she was quite content with that.

Chapter Thirteen

After a week at sea, Heather started to lose her enchantment with the ocean. She spent a great deal of time alone, as Drew’s duties took up a chunk of his time. At first, she enjoyed the leisure time. She pored over the two shelves of books above his desk. There were, of course, many ocean-related books, but she was pleasantly surprised to find several works by Homer and Shakespeare. He also owned books written by Washington Irving and James Fennimore Cooper.

His library was quite eclectic, as she discovered when she pulled down a slim volume of John Keats’ poetry. The thin book puzzled her, for he didn’t strike her as the sort to read poetry. Her fingers brushed over the faded red cloth cover and, when she lifted the volume, a scrap of paper fluttered to the floor.

She crouched down to pick up the scrap. It was rectangular, a shade smaller than the pages of the book, and yellowed with age. The opposite side bore the unmistakable penmanship of a lady:

My darling Drew,

Although we are apart, hold this close and imagine I am lying there beside you, in your arms, where I truly belong.

B.

The paper was worn and wrinkled, as if thumbed over many times. By Drew, perhaps? Her heart pounded against her ribs as she slipped the paper back into the book to return to the shelf. She didn’t want him to know that she’d found the note, as it obviously meant something to him.

She turned away from the shelves, having lost all interest in reading. That love letter struck a sour note in her heart, reminding her of the woman he obviously still pined for. It left her feeling strangely odd — almost as if she’d been betrayed.

“Which is impossible. He’s made no promises to me, hasn’t spoken of any feelings for me. Nothing of the sort. All he’s said is that he wishes to keep me as his mistress even when we arrive in Brunswick.”

But, for how long? The question pricked her brain on more than one occasion. She had no way of knowing how long Drew’s interest in her would last. What would become of her when that interest waned?

Heather plunked down in the desk chair. This was not the first time she’d wondered this, but it was the first time fear flickered in the pit of her belly. What would become of her once Drew moved on? She would be alone, in a strange country, with no money and no way to support herself. Unless —

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I will not go back to a place such as Coal’s. Not ever.”

But, would she be able to remain in Brunswick? If she found she liked the town and wanted to stay, would she be able to do so, knowing she would most likely run into him at some point? She tried to imagine bumping into him on a walkway, seeing him with a new love and remembering the nights she’d spent in his arms. Just the thought stung. How would the reality be? She squeezed her eyes shut to ward off the unwelcome images.

Still, those thoughts plagued her over the next few days. By the end of that first week, she was ready to go out of her mind. She certainly couldn’t ask Drew. Besides, she wasn’t certain she wanted to hear the truth or what she thought the truth would be.

She tried to keep busy, but there was only so much she could do. For two days she tidied and rearranged the cabin, only to have him ranting and raving when he couldn’t find an inventory sheet he needed and she couldn’t remember where she’d moved it.

“I need something to do, Drew,” she complained from the far corner of the cabin, where she was far enough out of reach as he tore through the items on his desk, muttering oaths beneath his breath.

“If you are so bored, Heather, I’ll find something for you to do. But please, I beg you — do
not
clean for me again! Have we a deal?”

His eyes blazed with fury, but she was irritated enough herself to shout back, “I was trying to
help
!”

“Which I appreciate. But please, for the love of God, do
not
help me again.”

She glared, but nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.” He yanked a sheaf of papers from a pile on the desk, thundering, “Damn it!” as the rest of the stack teetered precariously, then spilled over the desktop and to the floor.

“Please, let me help you — ”

He crouched to swipe them up and try to rearrange them, growling, “Thank you, but you’ve
helped
me quite enough for one day!”

“I’m sorry.” This was the first time she’d felt the sting of his temper and she was at a loss as to how to respond. Part of her wanted to continue shouting right back at him, but the other part thought it best to not push him further. After all, he’d thrown Henry across the deck with almost no effort. She would definitely be no match for a man of his size and obvious strength. No match at all.

He seemed to be struggling to control his temper, then his shoulders loosened, the fury fading from his eyes. “I’m sorry, Heather.” He brought his hands down to rest on his hips. “I know you were only trying to help me out and I do appreciate it. It’s simply that I have a method to my madness and now my madness is all jumbled up.”

Pushing away from the wall, she took a step toward him. “I should never have touched any of those papers. I thought I was doing you a favor.”

“I know. I apologize for being such an ogre.” He dropped into his desk chair, leaning his head back to stare up at the exposed ceiling beams. “Come here.”

She hesitated, not at all certain she should get anywhere within arm’s reach of him as his eyes still glinted with danger. But it was probably best
not
to send him into another fury again, so she closed the space between them.

He reached for her hand, drawing her down onto his lap. “I’m sorry, love.” he spoke softly, his fingers stroking over the plait hanging halfway down her back. “I need to work on reeling in my temper, I’m afraid. It’s been a busy week and I’m beyond exhausted.”

She sat stiffly. Heather wanted to coil her arms about his neck, but didn’t think it would be proper. He solved her dilemma for her, pulling her arms to drape over his shoulders.

“You do not ever have to be afraid of me, love. I would never raise a hand to you in anger.” He continued to speak softly, pressing his fingertips into her back in small circles. “Not ever.”

She could see the sincerity in his eyes and knew he was telling the truth. “I won’t
help
you again, Drew. You have my word.”

He cupped her chin in one hand. “I can’t promise I won’t yell again,” he replied with a devilish grin. “But, I can promise you
will
like my apologies.”

She didn’t resist as he drew her in for a soft kiss. A ripple of heat coursed through her as his lips parted and his tongue delved down capture hers. They hadn’t made love since that first night — she was fast asleep by the time Drew returned to the cabin most nights and he was gone before she awoke. Perhaps that was about to change?

He slid his arms about her waist, shifting her to face him so her legs dangled over either side of his thighs. He tugged her closer, pulled her into direct contact with him, and the motion sent a ribbon of desire twisting through her.

He trailed his lips down the side of her neck and into her décolletage. His fingers went to work on the back of her gown, parted it, then drew over her shoulders. With his teeth, he tugged at the ribbon on her chemise, nudging the linen aside with one hand to bare her left breast.

A cool breeze danced across her skin and her eyes closed as his tongue swirled about her nipple. The caress was so heavenly, she forgot where she was, forgot about the completely unladylike position she was in. The slight flicker of embarrassment she originally felt when he parted her chemise was gone. The flames of desire he stoked deep within her swallowed it whole.

“Captain McKenzie?”

Heather squeezed her eyes more tightly shut.
No. Not now.

Frustration stabbed through her. Who the devil was that and why didn’t he just go
away
?

“Captain McKenzie? It’s Jeremy. I need to speak with you at once, sir. It’s of utmost importance.”

“Son of a…I’m sorry, love.” Drew leaned away from her to call, “I’ll be right there.”

Hot disappointment replaced frustration, but she nodded. “You have a thankless job, being the captain.”

“You can say that again.” He kissed her ear and squeezed her gently. “The last thing I wish is to move from your warmth, Heather.”

“Still, your crew needs you as well.” She couldn’t keep the wistfulness from her voice.

“I suppose they do. And I suppose I ought heed that, instead of lazing about here with you.”

She heard the teasing in his voice, and couldn’t help but laugh. She lifted her head to meet his eyes. “I am a distraction, aren’t I?”

“The best kind, love.” His lips brushed her cheek. “The best kind.”

With that, he tugged her chemise closed, pulled her gown back into place, his fingers lingering over her skin. With a husky sigh, he set her on her feet, then rose from the chair. “I’ll be back, and I will have something for you to occupy yourself with.”

She smoothed the last of the wrinkles from her skirts. “Of course.”

At the door he paused, a hand on the knob. “When I return, I am whisking you back to that bed and I’ll
not
be leaving until the sun rises tomorrow.”

That eased her disappointment. “Very well. I will try to stay awake.”

He winked. “Sleep if you need to. I’ve no qualms about waking you.” Another wink. “And you won’t mind if I do, either. I promise you that.”

A shocked reply rose to her lips, but before she could speak, Jeremy pounded on the door again. “Captain? You comin’?”

Drew strode to the door to yank it open. “What is it, Mr. Allen?”

“Henry, Captain. He is refusing to eat.”

Drew sighed. “Why did I think this would be a hassle-free voyage?”

The mention of Henry’s name prickled along her spine. She looked toward the doorway. Drew filled it, his back stiff as he pulled his fingers through his hair. “Very well. What does Mr. Mason have to say?”

Drew stepped into the corridor, but left the door open, and Heather couldn’t resist eavesdropping. She moved closer. The book she’d settled on reading lay face down behind one of the stacks of papers, so she plucked it up. Just in case.

“He said to let him starve.” Jeremy’s voice was mild, unconcerned. “He’ll eat when he gets hungry and there is no way to force him to do so.”

A low thump as one of them leaned against wall, and Drew said, “Then that’s what we’ll do. Is he giving you any other trouble?”

“Other than swearing revenge, no. I don’t think you have to worry, Captain. He has no way to get out of those chains. They’ve been kept well-oiled and rust-free.”

“Good. We certainly don’t need any more trouble.”

“No, sir. Although, Scottie did mention that it looks as though a storm is moving in. The skies have gotten gray.”

Heather winced. A storm? She didn’t like storms on land. What was a storm at sea like?

As if he heard her thoughts, Drew poked his head back into the cabin. “Heather?”

She lowered the book. “Yes?”

“I need to go topside. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I’ll be fine.” She held up the book. “I’ve this to keep my mind off the weather.”

“You have nothing to worry about.” He grinned. “I’ve yet to hit any storm I can’t handle.”

With that, and a wink, Drew disappeared down the passageway, leaving her to smile and lose herself in the book for real.