Desire and Deception (33 page)

After they set up camp, Jason affably volunteered to stand guard for her while she bathed. He settled himself in the shade of a willow tree where he could be close to Lauren, yet still keep his back turned. When he didn't hear any telling splashes, though, he glanced over his shoulder and found her searching the water. "What are you doing, Cat-eyes?"

"I'm looking for the shallowest spot. I don't know how to swim."

There was an ominous silence. "Do you mean to tell me," Jason
said,
his tone soft and threatening, "that you jumped ship in the Mississippi and
you can't swim?"

Lauren cast him a startled glance. He had risen to his feet and was moving toward her, his expression thunderous. Involuntarily she took a step backward as an iron hand closed around her wrist.

"Damn it, Lauren, you're lucky to be alive. Don't you know how treacherous the currents of the Mississippi are? That river has an undertow that could drown an ox!"

She stared up at Jason, bewildered by the blazing fury in his eyes. "I'm sorry," she stammered.

"Sorry! Sorry that you could have killed yourself? You have to be the greatest idiot alive. Anyone in his right mind would have stayed the hell away from that river."

Realizing suddenly that his anger was due to concern for her, Lauren felt an odd pleasure at his reaction; she was conscious of a deeply feminine sense of satisfaction that a strong male should want to protect her. "I won't do it again, I promise," she said in a small voice, wanting now to placate him.

"Devil take it, what do you think you're doing right now? That pool is deep enough to be over your head. And you can't swim!

"I'll be careful, Jason."

"What good will
that do
? I'll still be forced to watch you to ensure you don't drown!"

"Is that why you're angry?
Because you'll have to
watch
me?"

She knew, even before she heard his growled oath, that she was right. Lauren returned Jason's gaze unflinchingly as he glowered at her. He still looked like he might explode, but she wasn't intimidated any longer. Indeed, she could hardly refrain from
laughing,
he was so obviously reluctant to see her without her clothes.

The opportunity to repay him for his provoking remarks of that morning was too great to resist. Her lips curved in a
rougish
smile as she reached up and slowly began to unbutton her gown.

Jason clenched his teeth, his eyes narrowing at her in suspicion. "Is this my punishment for last night?"

"No," Lauren replied sweetly.
"For this morning.
But I find it surprising that you should ask, since you always seem to be able to read my mind."

"I can only guess," he grumbled. But his tone had lost its fierce edge, and knowing that she was safe made Lauren more daring. She leaned closer to Jason, almost brushing the hard wall of his chest with her breasts.

"Then tell me what I'm thinking now," she murmured, deliberately using her huskiest voice.

When she ran a fingernail languorously along the line of his clean-shaven jaw, Jason jerked his head as if he had been burned. Lauren's eyes widened with demure innocence. "I only wanted the soap, Jason. May I have it, please?"

He blinked,
then
slowly shook his head. "I ought to turn you over my knee," he muttered, rueful exasperation lacing his voice.

She smiled up at him provocatively. "But you won't."

As Jason fetched the soap from his saddlebag, Lauren found great satisfaction in teasing him further about his modesty. Fortunately, though, her remarks served to deflate his anger rather than increase it. She could tell by his twitching lips that he was struggling to maintain his grim expression.

He handed her the bar and spun her around, giving her a gentle push in the direction of the pool. "Make haste, wench," he commanded with mock gruffness. "Stay close to the edge and yell if you start to drown, for I don't mean to watch you bathe. I find it hard enough to keep my resolve without seeing you flaunt your beautiful body."

Returning to his spot beside the willow, Jason made
himself
comfortable, then addressed Lauren over his shoulder. "Incidentally, that puritanical gown of yours is hardly better than nothing at
ajl
. Makes a man want to discover what you're hiding. Have you nothing else decent to wear?"

Lauren's answer was slightly muffled since she was pulling her gown over her head. "Only my green satin . . . and two others like it—"

"I said decent, not brazen. Don't you have anything in between?
Something with a modicum of style and taste?"

"I'm afraid not." Her subsequent gasp told Jason that she had entered the water and found it amazingly cold.

"Poor girl.
At least now you're rich enough to buy all the beautiful gowns your heart desires. By now Kyle should have opened an account for you in a New Orleans bank.
A thousand to start with."
Hearing her catch her breath a second time, Jason added, "That's dollars, not pounds."

When Lauren made no reply, he turned to eye her quizzically. He was relieved to note that although she had turned to face him, she was submerged up to her slender neck in water. Still, the pool was quite clear—so clear, in fact, that he could easily see the pale outline of her nude body. She had begun to lather her hair and her hands were poised above her head in way that made her full breasts thrust out temptingly. Jason shifted uncomfortably, trying very hard to ignore the stiffening in his loins.

Lauren didn't notice his discomfort, even though she was staring at him again. She was frankly astonished by the sum he
had mentioned. But it wasn't the amount of money or even the subject of her supposed inheritance that had startled her. It was that Jason had planned for her return. She searched his face intently, not even realizing when the bar of soap slipped from her chilled fingers. "You were certain I would come back, weren't you?" she said slowly.

Jason's blue eyes locked with her wary gold-green ones. "I was only certain I would try my damndest to find you," he replied solemnly.

The silence stretched between them until Jason spoke again. "By the way, I didn't disclose your identity to anyone. Kyle already knows the story of your disappearance, but he was to make the deposit in the name of Lauren
DeVries
. I left it for you to explain to him why you aren't going by Andrea Carlin." There was another pause before he added, "I do hope you realize there's no longer any reason for you to remain in hiding. Burroughs is gone and Regina has no cause to harm you.

At the mention of her past, Lauren felt the familiar panic well up inside her. Perhaps she no longer had to remain in hiding, but she couldn't return to England; Regina Carlin would still be intent on locking her niece Andrea away in a madhouse. Lauren shuddered. At the very least she would face criminal charges if her impersonation were ever discovered. The threat of prison was still very real. No, her past lay buried and she would have to keep it that way.
If Jason would let her.

Seeing his discerning gaze fixed on her face, Lauren stirred uneasily. Why did she always get the feeling he knew more than he let on?

When she remained silent, Jason grinned. "Isn't a thousand dollars enough?"

She was grateful that he didn't press her. Turning her back to him again, she made a show of looking for her soap. "Why is it that you always seem to be trying to give me money?" she asked lightly, trying to recover her poise.

"Probably because it's yours."

"Mine? Next you'll say the gold you offered me that night on board the
Siren
was mine as well."

Jason chuckled. "Wouldn't that have been intriguing?

Using your own money to buy your services.
I should have thought of it."

Lauren ducked under the water to retrieve her soap. When she came up breathless and sputtering, Jason returned to the subject of money. "A thousand dollars should be sufficient to purchase an adequate wardrobe. Of course, you can have more if you need it. But I should warn you that as your trustee, I expect to be kept generally informed of how you mean to spend your fortune. I'd like to be certain you won't just give it away to the first man who turns your head. Like that loose fish
DuvaL
for instance."

"I haven't allowed Felix to turn my head."

"You've certainly turned his. Lila says he offered you an extremely attractive proposition."

Lauren cast a glance over her shoulder to gauge Jason's reaction, but his head was turned. "I suppose Lila told you my life story," she muttered as she began to soap her body.

"Some of it.
She also says that you're determined to be independent and that you plan to buy your own ship."

"Is there anything Lila didn't tell you?"

"I'm persistent. What do you intend to do with it?"

"My ship?
I mean to go into trade. In a year or two, I'll have enough capital to start my own business."

"I would have thought Beauvais could afford to finance a loan."

"He offered, but I didn't want to become indebted to him."

"I think I'm beginning to see how your mind works, Cat-eyes. To you life is a tally sheet of debits and credits."

She could hear the faint amusement in his voice. "It wasn't Jean-Paul's responsibility to support me," Lauren said defensively, not wanting to explain her fierce need to maintain her independence.

"I suppose not, but I would have preferred you had chosen a different way to earn money. What was Lila thinking of, letting you work in a gaming hell?"

"Lila isn't to blame."

"I didn't think she was," he said dryly. "She warned me you were rather stubborn. I can see we'll have to find you some other means of employment if we think to keep you away from such improper places."

Lauren tossed her head. "Improper! You, I'll warrant, didn't find anything 'improper' about a gaming house. And I'll not believe that gambling was the only pleasure you were seeking."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "I could almost imagine I detect a note of jealousy in your tone."

"Not jealousy.
Envy."
Lauren threw him a smile, even though he wasn't looking. "I'm envious of your freedom. You're free to do as you like, move about the world whenever you wish, chase as many skirts as you have the money and inclination to chase."

Jason tried ineffectually to smother a chuckle. "A gentleman does not 'chase skirts,' my dear Lauren. And for an heiress—an unmarried young lady, at that—your language is deplorable, even scandalous."

"Hypocrite," Lauren accused, enjoying their banter. "You've said far worse things to me. Indeed, you should accept some of the blame for corrupting me. Before you, I never knew such things as bordellos existed."

"You're determined to heap coals on my head, aren't you?" He shook his head in exasperation. "I suppose it's fortunate that you haven't moved about much in polite company. You'd set society on its ear with your talk of bordellos—and the gossips would have torn your reputation to shreds by now. But don't think I mean to abandon you. In truth, I intend to do my utmost to redeem you."

"You
redeem
me?"
Lauren asked skeptically.

"I feel obligated to rectify the damage wrought on your character, since I was the one to lead you astray."