Destiny's Daughter (13 page)

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Authors: Ruth Ryan Langan

BOOK: Destiny's Daughter
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The tall, slightly stooped figure stood very still, watching her. She was the most magnificent creature he’d ever seen. Fate must have brought him here today. There would be no one around to hear her cries. He grew hard at the thought of what he would do to her. This time he would have her.

 

*  *  *

 

She heard a splash and squinted against the blinding sunlight to find the source of the sound. A low, flat boat was following the bend in the river, heading straight for her. With a feeling of panic, she hurled herself through the water, which tugged at her, holding her back, slowing her progress. Her foot encountered the sharp edge of a rock and she let out a little gasp of pain before rushing on. She dared not stop and look over her shoulder to see if the occupants of the boat had spotted her. She was almost there. A few more steps. Then, ducking beneath the low hanging branches of the willow, she shrank back, praying that she hadn’t been spotted.

The boat was closer now, and she could hear the low rumble of men’s voices. As the boat glided past, she peered through the lacy branches. She could make out two men, huddled facing each other, their heads bent in earnest conversation. A young Negro stood at the back of the boat, poling through the deep water. The craft passed so quickly, she had only a glimpse of them before they followed another turn in the river and were out of sight.

Only then did Annalisa let out the breath she’d been holding. They hadn’t seen her. She was convinced of that. They were too engrossed in their own conversation. Besides, if they had spotted her, they would have been looking toward shore, trying to locate her through the canopy of branches.

Relieved, she sank once more into the water and took several tentative steps from the cover of the tree. The sun was hot; the water cool. Heaven could be no better than this, she thought, watching the ripples spiral out as she slapped the water with her hand.

Though the water had cooled her body, she felt a stab of heat in her foot. The rock must have cut her deeper than she’d first thought. She began to walk slowly from the water.

Along the shores of the Mississippi, the only sounds were the chorus of birds, the occasional hum of a bee. The man watching her heard the snap of a twig and ducked back, out of sight. Seeing the figure approaching along the riverbank, he swore viciously and fled.

 

*  *  *

 

"What’s this?"

Annalisa whirled at the sound of the familiar deep voice. Beyond the fringe of willow branches, she could see the figure of Chase Masters, standing over her pile of clothing. Dressed in a white morning coat over tight black trousers, with a gold chain draped across his waistcoat, he looked more like a dashing pirate than a businessman. His black hair gleamed in the sunlight. His dark eyes flashed with their ever-present humor.

"Some poor woman has lost her clothes," he murmured, picking up the gown of pale yellow batiste.

Mortified, Annalisa sank beneath the water, holding her breath, crawling along the river bottom toward shore.

In a louder tone, he added, "And such immodest undergarments." Lifting a gossamer chemise, he examined it carefully before picking up a pair of lace bloomers. "I’d better take these clothes into town and see if anyone can claim them."

Annalisa came up sputtering. "Chase Masters. Put those things down immediately."

"Well, well. What have we here? A mermaid?"

"You know very well who I am. Now put those clothes back where you found them and get out of here."

"There’s only one woman in New Orleans who can shriek like a fishwife. The mermaid must be Annalisa Montgomery."

"Fishwife!" She took two steps forward before realizing that she was naked. With a little cry she dropped into the water like a stone, while Chase nearly collapsed with laughter.

Huddling in the water she hissed, "What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow."

"I finished my business early."

Once again forgetting herself, she took a step nearer. The pain in her foot was sharper now, more insistent. She grimaced. "But how did you get here? The steamship isn’t due into port until late this evening."

"A—friend brought me in his boat."

In the brilliant sunlight she looked like a shimmering angel, hair streaming about naked shoulders, tiny droplets of water dripping down her face. For one brief moment he felt a flash of desire that left him reeling. Pushing it aside, he realized that a man in his line of work couldn’t afford to get involved with a woman like Annalisa. He still had no idea who she was, wanton or virgin, temptress or innocent. But she was definitely not what she appeared to be. He knew instinctively that she could never be a casual affair. It was intriguing that despite the fact that she was the local madam, she was the kind of woman who made a man think about marriage, home, family. There were too many mysteries about Annalisa Montgomery. Abruptly he decided his best course of action was to tease her until her anger surfaced. Anger was a safe emotion. One he could deal with.

"I’ll just take these clothes up to the house and give them to Hattie Lee." With that he turned as if to go.

"Don’t you dare." She changed her shrill tone to one of pleading. "Please, Chase. Have you no mercy? Leave me to my privacy."

"It is very private here, isn’t it?" He seemed to think about that a minute, then said, "It would be a shame to waste such a secret spot. You look so cool and comfortable, I think I’ll join you."

Annalisa’s mouth dropped open in surprise. "You can’t do that."

"And why not?" Dropping her clothes, he removed his crisp white jacket.

"Because . . ." She could hardly speak, she was so flustered. "You can’t. I’m . . . You’re . . . Chase Masters, you can’t disrobe right here in front of me and walk naked into this river. We’ll be the talk of New Orleans. I’ll never be able to show my face again."

Toying with his shirt buttons, he grinned. "Have you ever wondered just what your reputation is in New Orleans, Annalisa? I’m not sure I could do anything to tarnish it further."

"But I’m not . . . I haven’t . . . Oh, hell." Slapping her hand over her mouth, she looked even more shocked at the word that had issued from her lips.

"Miss Montgomery," he said with feigned dignity. "We’re really going to have to do something about your manners."

Thunder rumbled, low and distant. Annalisa gave a terrified glance at the darkening sky.

"I guess I’ll have to forego my swim. It looks like we’re in for a storm. I think you’d better haul yourself out of that river before you get hit by lightning."

"I will as soon as you leave me alone."

"And miss seeing you as nature intended?" He chuckled, low and deep in his throat.

The sky grew ominously dark. A jagged slice of lightning glimmered, followed by a rumble of thunder that was definitely closer.

Chase held out his hand. "Get out of that water, you little fool, before the storm strikes."

With hands on hips she glared at him. "Not until you turn around."

"Stop giving me that virginal nun act." He stepped close to shore and extended his hand. "Get out of there now."

"When you have the decency to turn around." She hoped her voice rang with at least half of the authority she had always admired in Mother Superior.

With a string of oaths, Chase turned around and took several steps toward the tree, stopping just beyond her pile of clothes. Over his shoulder he sneered, "There. Does this appease your sense of modesty?"

"Barely." Clamoring quickly from the water, she pulled herself up the slippery bank and reached for her underthings. They clung to her wet skin, making it impossible for her to hurry. The more she tried to rush, the more entangled she became in the flimsy clothes. When she had finally pulled her dress over her head, she saw Chase turn toward her. Fumbling with the buttons, she avoided his look.

He was laughing. "Your virtue is intact, Miss Montgomery." Suddenly, his smile was replaced by a look of surprise. "My God. What’s that?" Glancing down, he stared at a pool of blood in the grass by her feet.

Annalisa had stoically tried to ignore the pain in her foot. Her shock at being discovered had made it easy until now. She forced herself to give no indication of her discomfort.

"I stepped on the edge of a submerged rock."

"Sit down."

"I’ll take care of it when I get home."

"Will you stop arguing and sit?" With his hands on her shoulders he urged her down to the grass. With her back against the trunk of the willow, he knelt before her and lifted her foot for his inspection.

Chase swore viciously when he saw that the cut was raw and bleeding profusely. Pulling a clean handkerchief from his pocket, he folded it carefully. Resting her foot on his thigh, he wrapped the cut and tied the cloth firmly to stem the flow of blood.

His touch was firm but gentle. Annalisa hadn’t expected that a man like Chase could be capable of such tenderness. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the sensuous feel of his hands on her skin while he worked.

Still holding her foot, he watched her lids slowly flicker open. She had the pale, topaz eyes of a cat. Her hair hung dark and wet on her shoulders. Little tendrils clung to her cheeks and neck.

There was no longer any laughter in his dark eyes. But there was, she noted, a tension there, as well as a softness. His jacket lay in the grass. His cambric shirt was stretched tautly across wide, muscled shoulders. As his hand moved gently over her foot, she watched the muscles of his arms bunch, then relax. She had a fleeting image of those arms holding her, and she felt the beginnings of a flush steal along her throat and cheeks.

They studied each other, while his hands gently caressed her foot, her ankle, her calf.

Chase noticed the way she colored at his touch and felt desire rising within him.

"That’s a wicked cut." Without warning he lifted her foot to his lips.

She gasped, and watched helplessly as he pressed his mouth to her instep, her heel, her toes.

"Such tiny feet," he murmured. He seemed to measure the size of her foot against his big hands. Slowly, almost hypnotically, he moved his hand along her leg. "Such a shapely leg." He felt her little tremor as his hand continued its journey until his fingertips encountered the lace edge of her bloomers. "So many clothes." He lowered her foot again to his thigh, allowing it to rest there gently while he studied her cheeks, now bright red. "Why do women have to wear so many clothes?"

"To retain their virtue," she said quickly. Hearing his low rumble of laughter, she quickly lowered her gaze and felt her face burn.

"Come along. Miss Virtue," he said, lifting her into his arms after he had pulled on his jacket. "You can’t walk on that foot."

"Chase." For a moment, she thought about protesting. After all, she could certainly walk as far as the house. But the thought of being carried in his arms was exciting. The protest died on her lips. Bringing her arms around his neck, she buried her face against his collar and sighed as he cradled her against his chest.

He carried her through the tall grass of the meadow as effortlessly as if she were one of his bolts of silk or satin. When they reached the rolling lawn of her house, his strides slowed, as if he were as unwilling as she for this moment to end.

"I want you to have Doctor Lynch take a look at your foot," he said firmly.

"All right. If you think so." Her voice, muffled against his throat, sent shock waves through his system.

"I’ll look in on you later to see how you’re feeling."

She chuckled, low and deep. Again he felt the ripples of pleasure deep inside. "Now you’re treating me like a child."

He turned his head slightly to look at her. Their lips were almost touching. "Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m well aware that you’re no child. You’re a woman." His lips hovered over hers; their breath mingled. "Very much a woman."

Dark eyes stared into warm amber. The arms holding her tightened. She felt her heart stop before his lips brushed hers. She lost all thought. She forgot to breathe.

His lips were warm and firm, taking from her more than she’d ever known she had. How was it possible for her blood to heat at his simplest touch? Her pulse hammered in her temples as her fingers twined in his hair. Held against his chest, she could feel his heartbeat inside her. Its erratic pounding matched her own.

"My sweet Lord. What’s happened, child?" Hattie Lee’s voice caused both their heads to swivel sharply.

With easy strides, Chase mounted the steps of the back porch and waited while the black woman held the door. "Annalisa cut her foot on a rock."

"I’ll get the doctor. You take her right up to her bed."

"Hattie Lee. It isn’t anything serious. Really."

Ignoring her, the woman hurried through the kitchen, calling for one of the serving girls, who promptly ran off in search of Dr. Lynch.

While Chase carried Annalisa up two flights of stairs, the women of the house ventured from their rooms and followed. By the time they reached Annalisa’s bedroom on the top floor, the parade of women was strung out along both hallways and the stairs.

Opening the door to her room, Chase paused in the doorway to glance around. Despite the heat of the day, the room was cooled by windows on either side. Cool and elegant. Like the woman who lived here. His gaze was arrested by the tub in the corner, and the luxurious sheepskins. As he lowered her to her bed, his hands brushed satin coverlets. Sensual. He’d just learned one more thing about the mysterious Miss Montgomery. She was far more complicated than the simple convent girl he’d met on a riverboat.

"Thank you, Chase. For everything."

Before he could respond, the women converged on them.

"Chérie. You are wounded, like the little bird. Tell us what happened." Gabrielle stared at Annalisa’s disheveled appearance, the pristine cloth tied about her bare foot.

Thoughts of lying beside Annalisa in the satin-covered bed left Chase with a rush of heat that stunned him. With a grin, he backed away, allowing the women to crowd closer. Annalisa had a final glimpse of the back of his head as he strode quickly from the room.

Before she had even finished telling them how she had stepped on a rock in the river, Dr. Lynch was there, carefully examining the cut.

"Damnation!" He stripped away the cloth and applied antiseptic, while Annalisa winced. "Clean," he pronounced, applying a fresh dressing. "Chase acted quickly and stopped the blood. I don’t expect any problems with infection."

"What about tonight," Hattie Lee asked matter-of-factly.

"Shoes may be a problem. But if you can find her a pair of comfortable slippers, she’ll do fine. It’s just a cut. Nasty and uncomfortable, but not serious."

"I tried to tell them that, Doctor. I know how busy you are.

He gave her a solemn look. "Never take chances on deep cuts. They did the right thing by sending for me."

While Hattie Lee showed the doctor out, the others crowded around once more.

"How romantic," Delia sighed. "You and Chase Masters swimming together."

"We weren’t swimming together," Annalisa protested hotly. "I was cooling off in the water. He happened to walk by."

"But were you not naked, chérie?" Gabrielle asked, giving a wink to the others.

Annalisa swallowed. "I was. But he was gentleman enough to turn away while I dressed."

"What a shame," Francine said in her haughty tone.

"What did it feel like to be carried in his arms?" Eulalie asked softly. "Is he as strong as he looks?"

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