Destiny's Daughter (14 page)

"He’s—quite strong." She felt herself blushing again and turned her head. "If you don’t mind, I’d like to rest for a little while before dinner."

"I still think it’s very romantic," Delia persisted. "After all, he wrapped your foot with his own fine handkerchief." Idly picking it up, she noted his monogram.

Snatching it from her hand, Annalisa said, "I’ll have it cleaned for him." At the women’s smiles, she added lamely, "It’s the least I can do."

As the women began walking toward the door, Gabrielle turned back toward the bed. "I think, chérie, you are not as cool to Chase Masters as you pretend."

"I accepted his help because he was the only one available. And he offered his help for the same reason."

The Creole woman gave her a knowing smile, then left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Alone in her room, Annalisa replayed in her mind every word, every touch that had transpired between them. When she thought about his tender kiss, she felt her throat go dry. Would any man’s touch cause her to burn so? she wondered. Or was it only Chase Masters who had such an effect on her?

What was Chase doing along the riverbank at that time of the day? She tried to focus her thoughts, but she was too weary. He had never really explained where he came from, or where he was headed when he encountered her in the river. He had smoothly managed to evade her questions. Chase Masters was a man of mystery.

Twisting his handkerchief around her fingers, lulled by thoughts of his hands gently cradling her foot, she drifted into sleep.

The storm brought relief from the oppressive heat. By dinner time, the house had cooled off and the maids scurried about preparing for their expected guests.

In their rooms, the women bathed and applied perfume, fussed over their hair, and decided on just the right accessories for their gowns. As Annalisa sat at a dressing table arranging her hair, it occurred to her that each evening in this strange house was like a grand party.

By the time their first guests arrived, Annalisa was downstairs in the main parlor wearing her warmest smile.

One of the businessmen from town had reserved a private room for a poker game, which wouldn’t begin until quite late. In the meantime, the crowd of gentlemen swelled until the rooms were filled.

Annalisa had just smoothed over a minor disagreement between the police chief and a local plantation owner and was busy arranging for a special drink for one of their regular clients. Yet she knew the precise moment when Chase Masters arrived. Without looking in his direction, she caught the low murmur of his voice as he greeted the maid at the door. Without looking his way, she knew he was watching her. Slowly, without allowing any emotion to show on her face, she turned and met his look.

Was it possible, she wondered, for a man to touch her with only a glance? Dozens of people separated them, and yet she felt as if they were alone in the room. With her smile carefully in place, she continued to listen to the conversation of the man beside her and nod at all the right moments. But her gaze locked on Chase as he accepted a drink from a tray and spoke to several people nearby. All the while he continued to stare at her.

Was it possible for a heart to beat so rapidly? Had her blood ever heated so quickly before? She felt oddly lightheaded and blamed it on the loss of blood earlier in the day. Moving slowly, she continued to stop and chat, or light a man’s cigar. But each time she looked up, Chase was watching her with absolutely no expression on his darkly handsome face.

It seemed an eternity before they found themselves face to face.

"How’s your foot?"

"Fine. The doctor said it was a clean wound. And he praised your skill."

He shrugged off the compliment. "How can you tolerate wearing a pair of shoes?"

She smiled and lifted the hem of her elegant gold
mousseline de soie
gown. "Little gold slippers. Hattie Lee found them."

"Very practical." He lifted his gaze to stare solemnly down into her eyes. "But you shouldn’t be walking."

"It doesn’t hurt much. Really."

"Did my shipment arrive?"

She nodded. "Hattie Lee and several maids are unpacking it now. Would you like to come to my office?"

He followed her and frowned when he noticed that she favored one foot. She might pretend it didn’t hurt, but he knew better.

Inside her office, candles had been lighted in wall sconces in anticipation of the business to be conducted. She sat down behind her desk, relieved finally to take the pressure off her aching foot. Indicating a chair, she asked, "Whiskey?"

"No thanks. Business first."

"Cigar?"

He accepted one from the box on her desk and watched her from beneath lowered lids as she held a taper to the tip of the cigar until it caught. It was a pleasant thing, to have a woman cater to his needs. Yet the knowledge that she did this for every man took the edge off his enjoyment.

He leaned back, emitting a stream of rich smoke.

Hattie Lee knocked, then entered. "The shipment has been unpacked and counted. Everything is there." Grinning at Chase, she added, "Thelma sends her thanks. She wanted me to tell you that she’ll be more than happy to do your cooking any time."

Chase returned the smile. "It’s the least I can do to thank her for those beignets and café au lait. Whenever I’m away from here, just the thought of them makes my mouth water."

Hattie Lee chuckled. "Before you leave, Thelma wants you to come back to the kitchen." The chuckle deepened. "She wants you to smell how good your French perfume is on her skin."

"Thanks, Hattie Lee. Tell her I’ll be there."

Annalisa listened to their friendly banter and felt a twinge of jealousy. It was an alien feeling that left her surprised and a little puzzled. Why should she be jealous of the easy camaraderie between Chase and the women of this house? Perhaps because she sensed that she could never share it. There seemed always to be a barrier, a wall between her and Chase. Though he teased her good-naturedly at times, they couldn’t be completely easy with each other. Each of them held something back.

The black woman paused, with her hand on the knob. "I almost forgot. Annalisa, this package is for you. It was in the shipment."

Handing Annalisa a small bundle, Hattie Lee crossed the room and let herself out.

Glancing at Chase, Annalisa stared down at the package on her desk. "What is this?"

"Something I picked up for you. Something you definitely need."

A smile played about her lips. Her words softened with wonder. "I’ve never had a present before. Is it as nice as Thelma’s?"

He nearly choked on his cigar. "It’s—not that kind of present."

She laughed, a rich, joyous sound. "It doesn’t matter. Just the thought that you’d bring me something is enough." Tearing into the bulky wrap, her fingers encountered something cool and shiny. Her eyes lit and she shook the package until the gift dropped with a clatter onto her desktop.

It was a gun. A very small, very lethal-looking gun. Her smile fled. Her features stiffened. She stared at it, unwilling to touch it.

Seeing the look on her face, Chase berated himself for his clumsiness. How was he to know she would expect perfume like Thelma? Damn his luck! How could he have possibly guessed that she’d never before received a gift? To cover up, he became gruff. "You keep too much money around this house. And you’re all so damned vulnerable. A bunch of helpless women," he said with a trace of scorn.

"Helpless." Her disappointment over the gift manifested itself in anger. "There’s nothing helpless about me. I can take care of myself, Chase Masters."

"Don’t flatter yourself. You didn’t even have enough sense to get out of the water after that nasty cut." His voice was harsher than he’d intended.

"If you’ll recall, it was because there was a leering creature preventing me from doing so."

He took in a deep breath and lowered his voice. "I just think you need to protect yourself. You shouldn’t resent this gun. It may come in handy."

She pushed away from the desk. "Resent it? I can’t even bring myself to touch it, let alone use it."

"Damn it." He came around the desk and picked it up, thrusting it into her face. "I want you to be prepared for any danger. There are desperate people around here. Their homes and lands have been destroyed, their future bleak. They’ll do anything, even kill, for money."

"If they’re that desperate, they can have my money," she said in a low note of fury. "But I could never kill them for it."

"You don’t understand. They won’t ask for your money. They’ll kill you first, then help themselves to it." As she walked away he caught her by the arm, forcing her to turn back. "There are a lot of men in this town who are evil. They’d stab their own mother in the heart if the price was good enough. Do you want Hattie Lee and the others to be at the mercy of such animals?"

Those words stopped her. If she wasn’t concerned about her own safety, she couldn’t ignore the needs of those who trusted her to look out for them.

Reluctantly she held out her hand. "Are there any bullets in it?"

"It isn’t loaded yet." He placed the little gun in her palm and watched as she studied it, measuring its weight. "It’s called a Sharp’s stingy gun. At close range, it can kill. Peace officers often carry one up their sleeves. It’s easy to conceal."

"Show me how to load it."

From the package he withdrew a small homespun sack containing bullets. Patiently showing her, he handed the gun back to her and watched as she loaded, unloaded, then once more loaded the four-barrel gun without making a single error.

"Are you sure you’ve never done this before?"

She gave him a weak smile. "I’m told I’m a fast learner. Now, show me how to use this."

Placing it in her hand, he showed her the sight, and how to aim. "When you squeeze off a shot, don’t allow your hand to tremble or move. With a small weapon like this, there should be no kick." "Turning her around, he brought his arms around her and placed his hands over hers on the gun. "It should become one smooth motion. Raise the gun like this." He brought her hands up. "Aim." He placed his cheek against hers, studying the gun’s sight.

With his breath warm against her skin, Annalisa felt all her anger dissolving. He had given Thelma perfume. But he had given her something far more important. The means of protecting all the women in this house. While she thrilled to the feel of his strong arms around her, she wondered how he could remain so businesslike, when her heart was doing somersaults. The next thought made her heart sink. Perhaps he had no more feelings for her than he had for the cook.

"Can you see that vase through the sight?"

His voice brought her down to earth. She nodded.

Her hair smelled of rosewater. Even her skin smelled faintly of roses. While she concentrated on his lesson, he lowered his face to her neck. The scent was stronger here. She had probably dabbed a delicate rose perfume between her breasts and at her pulse points. The thought brought a rush of heat that left him sweating. One hour with her, he thought. A chance to press his lips to her throat, to the little cleft between her breasts. One hour in her arms, and he would be free of this terrible tension between them. He could walk away, satisfied, and never look back.

"And then I squeeze the trigger."

"No." Yanking himself back from his fantasy, he ripped the gun from her hand. "Do you want the entire houseful of people to come rushing back to your office? This gun is loaded."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "I wasn’t really going to shoot. Do I look completely ignorant?"

Chase wiped the back of his hand across his brow, and noted that his hand was shaking. What in the hell was happening to him? This irritating woman was making him crazy. "Sorry," he said quickly. "Go through everything I’ve taught you, and I’ll watch from here."

Putting some distance between them so that he could remain dispassionate, he watched as Annalisa brought the gun up slowly, aimed, pretended to shoot, then unloaded the gun.

"Tomorrow, if you can find a very private place, you might want to try squeezing off a couple of shots just to see how it feels."

She nodded.

"Now you need to decide where to keep it," Chase said, still feeling a little tremor in his hands.

"I have this little purse," she said, lifting a small beaded pouch from beneath the waist of her skirt. "It holds small items like my key, a watch." Packing the little gun inside, she gave him a smile. "No one can ever see it beneath these voluminous skirts. And if I have a pocket in some of my skirts, I can just hide it there."

"Good." He needed a drink. His nerves were strung taut. "Just be sure you always have it with you. Loaded."

Annalisa heard the underlying thread of steel in his voice. He was a complex man, one minute laughing and teasing her, the next angry and gruff. She was weary of trying to understand him.

"If you’ll give me the bill of lading, I’ll go over it now and pay you what I owe you."

Reaching into his pocket he produced a paper and watched as she calmly walked to her desk and went over each item.

He took the chair across from her desk and watched her through narrowed eyes. She was an amazing woman. Quite capable of learning the intricacies of handling a gun, then just as smoothly deciphering a bill of lading. As if she’d been doing both all her life.

Looking up, she said, "Everything is in order." She reached for the strongbox, counted out his cash, and replaced the box in a bottom drawer.

"It might be a good idea to keep that money in a different place each night."

She thought about that for a moment and nodded. "Good idea." Crossing to the cabinet that held her liquor, she placed the box on a back shelf. "Would you care for that whiskey now?"

When he accepted it, he was glad to see that his hand was steady. He downed it in two gulps, then made for the door. "I have a card game waiting in the parlor. As usual, Miss Montgomery, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you."