Kimberly Nee - The McKenzie Brothers (10 page)

Chapter Fourteen

The storm hit that night, much to Heather’s dismay. All lamps and fires on board were extinguished, windows were bolted shut and everything battened down. The winds picked up, howled mournfully beyond the window. When she peered out, all she could see were foamy whitecaps, higher and rougher with each wave. The sky, or at least what she could see of it, was pewter-gray with an ominous black hue. Lightning sliced across the odd-looking sky, and thunder rolled through the heavens like the roar of some angry mythical beast.

She moved away from the window as the ship lurched beneath her feet. The skies opened up then, and rain pounded against the decks. As the wind worsened, it through rattled the glass in the brass window frame. One such gust actually blew the window open and the wind roared through the small cabin to send Drew’s carefully arranged papers airborne.

“Oh, no.” She threw herself at the window to close it. A groan rose to her lips as fastened the latch, then turned to survey the damage. Papers scattered everywhere, in all directions, on the floor around the desk. “Oh, damn.”

She tried to organize them to no avail. The swirling wind had jumbled them all together. “I only hope I have the chance to explain this before he goes in search of something again.”

Finally, everything was neatened as best as she could manage, and she set them back atop the desk. Glass rattled ominously behind her. “I need something to weight these down.”

A book. She swept her fingers along the row of spines. They brushed the book of Keats’ poetry and she yanked her hand away as if the faded red cloth burned her fingers. She had no desire to see that love note tucked within its pages.

Why was she so troubled that Drew kept that note pressed between those pages? It was undated, and could have been from a boyhood love that he had long since forgotten about. Unfortunately, she couldn’t make herself believe that. Each time she glanced at that shelf, her eyes were drawn to that blasted book, the note beneath its cover mocking her at every turn.

“Enough already,” she muttered through clenched teeth. She pulled down two larger books to set atop the piles of paper. “If you keep this up, you will surely drive yourself mad.”

But the thought lingered, jabbed her brain like a loose spring that poked through a coach seat.

The ship gave a mighty lurch. She toppled from her chair, and she sprawled across the polished floor. Lightning streaked across the sky once more. Thunder clapped to knock her troubled thoughts from her mind, as she jumped with each crash.

The ocean grew rougher still as the hours passed, tossed the
Triton
as if she weighed nothing. The books weighing down the stacks of papers proved quite useless as the ship pitched wildly to fling both the books and the papers to the floor.

Her stomach roiled, worse with each rise and fall of the cabin. This time, she didn’t care about the mess. She felt far too horrid to care.

“I hope this is the only storm we face.”

She had dragged herself from the chair to the bed, where she lay curled in a ball, knees drawn to her chest and her eyes squeezed shut. She was terrified she was going to retch, and tried to fight off the rising nausea with every fiber in her body. The last thing she wanted to do was befoul Drew’s cabin.

Several more hours passed before the door swung open and Heather forced one eye open to see Drew lurch in. He appeared thoroughly soaked and looked exhausted with dark, bruise like smudges marring the skin beneath his eyes, as if his battle with the elements had turned physical.

He staggered over to the wardrobe, tugged it open, then rummaged through it until he came up with a towel, which he draped over his head. He vigorously rubbed his hair dry and let the towel drape about his neck.

He crossed over to stand beside the bed. “Are you all right down here?”

She nodded weakly, afraid if she opened her mouth, she’d be ill.

He frowned. “I’ll have Bobby bring you a bucket, Heather. You look as though you might need one.”

She swallowed hard against the rising sour taste in her mouth. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not so certain of that, my lady.”

She took a deep breath to quell another surge of nausea. “How is it topside?”

He groaned. “If Hell had water, I’d think that was where we were.”

“Is it safe up there?”

“Nothing on board a ship is ever completely safe, my lady. But we’re taking all precautions. Supper will be cold, as all fires have been extinguished.”

The very thought of eating made her wince. “I think I shall pass on supper, if you don’t mind.”

He crouched down beside the bed. “No. You’re looking a little green. Eating probably wouldn’t be wise.”

She pressed a hand into her belly. “I’m feeling more than a little green.”

“Don’t wait up for me. I could be out there all night.”

“Will you be all right?”

He smiled. “I’ll be fine, love. Sleep now. By morning, hopefully, this will have blown over.”

The storm seemed to go on forever, instead of only raging for a few hours. She wasn’t so certain they would ever see daylight again. “What time is it?”

“Late afternoon. Now, no more questions. Try to get some sleep.” His thumb swept along her cheekbone. “We
will
come through this, Heather. Trust me. It isn’t the first storm I’ve ever faced. I will be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so. Now, sleep.” He brushed her forehead with a light kiss, then stood upright. “I’ll send Bobby down with that bucket.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He tossed the towel over the back of one of the chairs at the table and was gone, back up to the wheel.

She stared at the closed door as his footfalls faded away. He hadn’t even bothered to change his clothes. Hopefully, he wouldn’t catch his death from the rain. And that was the least of her worries.

Her greatest? That he’d be struck by the lightning that flashed all around them, or he’d be washed overboard by one of the huge waves that slapped up against the ship.

She watched in horror as a finger of frothy white foam oozed around the window frame and trickled down the wall. A wave slammed into the side of the ship. The
Triton
shuddered, then tilted sharply. Heather grabbed the far edge of the bed so she wouldn’t tumble to the floor.

She tried to sleep, but it refused to come. Every few minutes, a bolt of lightning would illuminate the entire cabin, and she knew the long, low growl of thunder would follow. The anticipation alone was enough to keep her awake. Finally, as the blackness began fading to gray, she managed to doze off.

The storm raged on through the night. The rain drove down like nails, the wind roared about them, and the lightning exploded like fireworks in the sky.

Drew tossed his wet hair out of his eyes. Lashed firmly to the wheel, he fought to keep the
Triton
on course and upright. Soaked to the skin, he shivered in the cold wind. Every muscle in his body ached. All he wanted to do was sleep. He thought about Heather, tucked safely in his cabin.

To hell with sleep. I want to be curled up in bed, with her in my arms.

His fingers tightened about the wheel and he threw his weight into it to keep it from turning. But he wasn’t entirely focused on his chore. Heather snuck into his thoughts, had done so more over the last week — ever since they’d made love that first night.

He squinted through the rain without seeing a drop of it. Instead, he saw a delicate lady with chestnut curls and dark moonbeam eyes. She haunted him night and day. When he was away from her, he counted the moments until he could return to his cabin. When he was with her, the time passed on amazingly swift wings.

It surprised him that he should feel this way. After Bridget’s betrayal, he vowed that no woman would ever engulf him so completely that he lost sight of himself. He would never allow himself to be so vulnerable again. He kept his heart tucked away safely, indulged in the occasional affair but anything remotely resembling something more serious was strictly off-limits.

But his defenses wavered. Heather chipped away at the wall he’d erected around his heart. She wasn’t purposely trying, there was just something about her that made him want to claim her as his. She aroused every male instinct he possessed — protectiveness, lust, jealousy — they all roared to life in her presence.

He drew his forearm over his forehead, shoved his hair up and out of his face again. What was this hold she had on him? He couldn’t explain it, wasn’t certain he even wanted an explanation. All he knew was that it would be a long time before he even thought about another woman.

Chapter Fifteen

To Heather’s relief, the storm blew out during the night. When she awoke, sunlight gleamed in through the salt-spattered window to bounce across the floor. She’d just finished dressing when the door banged open and Drew stumbled in.

He turned to kick the door shut with one foot, then staggered to a chair, where he slumped with a long, grateful sigh.

Heather set her comb on the bed. “Drew?”

He craned his neck to peer up at her and offered up a sleepy groan. “Feeling better?”

“Much.” She skirted the chair to crouch beside him. “Thank you for the bucket, but fortunately, I didn’t need it.”

“You’re most welcome.” His eyelids lowered, then snapped open, only to lower again. She gathered her skirts, knelt down and lifted his right foot.

“What are you doing?” Fatigue thickened his voice.

“Removing your boots. They are soaked.”

He offered no resistance as she tugged off first his right boot, then his left, and set both in the corner. She returned to the chair. Both his trousers and shirt were waterlogged, his shirt stuck to his chest in several places.

That gave her pause. She pressed a finger to her lips. Should she undress him the rest of the way? Her cheeks burned even as she chided herself for her embarrassment. “Stop being such a ninny. It’s not as if I’ve never seen him naked,” she muttered, still staring down at him.

His eyelids lifted again. and he offered up a sleepy smile. “I can hear you, love.”

A nervous laugh touched her lips. “Let’s get you to bed, then, shall we?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“Very funny.”

Drew yawned, but sat forward and unlaced his shirt. He offered no resistance as she leaned over to help him tug it off, but she didn’t miss his wince as he lifted his arms.

Red marks streaked over his chest and shoulders. “Drew, what happened to you?”

He rubbed his eyes and yawned again. “It’s nothing. Merely the result of spending the night lashed to the wheel.”

Without thinking, she leaned over and brushed a kiss over each streak. When she straightened up, it was to find him giving her a quizzical look. “They look painful,” she explained.

“It’s not so bad. I’m far too exhausted to even feel it.”

Heat bloomed in her cheeks, but she said nothing as she took his shirt to drape it over the rim of the brass tub in the corner. Then, she returned to the chair and stared down, faced with the task of removing his pants. Drew grinned, braced his hands against the arms of the chair to lift his hips, and allowed her to grapple with trying to remove the wet trousers and small clothes that were now like a second skin.

She gripped them as tightly as she could and yanked. They finally gave, sending her skidding backwards across the floor. She landed on her backside, the wet garments
plopping
on the floor beside her.

It was all she could do to not stare at his nakedness so she didn’t resist taking a peek. His body was so magnificent and he seemed so completely at ease with his natural state. There was no shyness to be found in the man sitting before her, that was for certain.

Everywhere her gaze moved, she found thick bands of corded muscle, sharply defined beneath bronzed skin and soft dark hair. Her embarrassment replaced by awe, Heather gave up the pretense of not studying him.

If her perusal troubled him, he gave no indication of it. His eyes remained closed, and no color rose in his cheeks.

Then, he held out a hand. “Help me up, my lady. I fear in my exhausted state I will drop to my knees if I attempt to stand on my own.”

“Liar.”

Opening his eyes, he offered grinned. “Do you wish to take that chance?”

She wrapped her fingers about his wrist and tugged. He rose easily, but made a great showing of leaning heavily on her for support.

Warmth radiated off his skin, which was still damp to the touch, and she half expected to see steam waft up from him. But, those thoughts were shoved from her mind as he sagged against her and she quickly learned that with a man of his size, there came considerable weight as well.

“You are…even heavier…than you…look,” she grunted, walking him to the bed. “You are a…bloody giant…Captain McKenzie.”

“And you are far stronger than you look, my delicate lady. One would hardly believe a tiny thing such as yourself could hold up a — what did you call me? — bloody giant.” His voice was soft and teasing as his fingers brushed her neck.

As she moved to lower him, he grabbed a handful of the lemon yellow muslin gown she wore, toppling her against him as he fell to the bed.

“Drew!” she exclaimed just before her face vanished into the pillow.

He plucked her easily out of the pillow to gather her in his arms. “Ah, my lady, you’ve no idea how wonderful this is. It was the only thing sustaining me last eve — the thought of lying here with you in my arms.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that, it was so unexpected. She lay there quietly for a moment and then said, “Were you up all night?”

“I was.”

“Sounds quite uncomfortable.”

“Believe me, it was most uncomfortable.”

She lifted her head. “Would you like me to have Nick heat you water for a bath?”

Drew gave her another tired smile. “My lady, the last thing I wish to see right now is more water. Besides, if I got in that tub, I’d most likely fall asleep and drown.”

“Well now, we certainly don’t want that to happen, do we?”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“Try to sleep, Drew,” she replied softly, reaching up to brush a dark lock from his forehead. “I think you’ve earned it.”

“I passed exhausted somewhere around two this morning,” he murmured thickly, eyes closing once more.

She lay beside him until he began to snore. Satisfied that he was sleeping soundly, she slipped from the bed and bustled about the cabin to gather up his trousers and small clothes and drape them over the tub.

When she finished tidying up, she turned back to the bed. Drew had relaxed in his slumber, one arm was flung above his head, the other across his chest. She watched him for a moment, then drew the blanket up to his shoulders.

That done, she curled up with a book — a collection of stories by the American author Washington Irving — and it wasn’t long before she lost herself in the stories.

It was late afternoon when Drew woke to find Heather curled up in the deep wing chair, snoring softly, her head nestled to the side, and the book open in her lap. He grinned as he dressed and walked over to her. He lifted her easily from the chair, taking great pains not to wake her. Still, her eyelids fluttered and he found himself gazing into those bottomless pools of darkest brown flecked with gold.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his lips inches from hers. “I tried not to wake you.”

“Oh, please, don’t apologize.” She waved off his concern, even as she tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a yawn. “I shouldn’t even be napping. I’ll be awake all night..”

She couldn’t know how sensual she sounded, her voice thick. He tried to shove
those
thoughts from his head, and was about as successful as she had been in smothering her yawn. “I don’t think that would be a problem now, love. Do you?”

“Drew!”

Those thoughts surged up like a rogue wave. Still, he laughed. “You are so shockable, love. It’s one of your finer qualities.”

“Well, you are horrid.”

“Oh, don’t pout now. I was but teasing.”

“I’m not pouting.”

“Of course you are.” He set her back on her feet. “Perhaps
not
one of your finer qualities, but it’s growing on me just the same.”

“I am so grateful to hear that.”

The crispness in her voice surprised him. “You need to develop a thicker skin.”

Her eyes blazed with temper. “You think you are always so bloody charming, don’t you? Well, sometimes, you might wish to think before you come out with one of those
charming
remarks!”

He folded his arms over his chest. “I meant no offense, Heather.”

“No, I apologize,” she said, slowly rubbing her temples. Her anger died as quickly as it flared. “I am going mad in this cabin, Drew. I must get out of here, even for just a short while.”

“Well, you are free to leave, Heather. You are not a prisoner here.”

“I cannot wander about alone.”

“True. It wouldn’t be wise, I suppose. But, had you said something to me sooner, I think I might have been able to spring you out of here earlier.”

“Please, I need to get out of here. Even for a moment.”

“Losing your enchantment with the sea?”

“I only get to see the sea out the window.”

He held out an arm. “Well, come along then. I’ll re-introduce you.”

Heather gave him a dazzling smile in return. “Thank you.”

“There is no need to thank me. All you had to do was say something.”

“I wasn’t so certain I should.”

He sighed heavily, raking his fingers through his hair. “Heather, listen to me, please.” He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned closer. “You have to stop this entire submissive nonsense. Do you hear me? I don’t want you agreeing with me at every turn, or thinking you can’t ever approach me with anything, or ask me for something.”

“But — ”

“No.” He shook his head emphatically. “No, I don’t want to hear any ‘buts.’ You have a brain in your head, damnit, and the only thing I want is for you to use it.”

She bit down on her bottom lip. “But, I can’t.”

“Why? Oh!” He threw his hands into the air, whipping around to walk away, toward the door. But then he faced her again as red-hot fury filled him. “Listen very carefully, Heather.
I
am
not your master
. Is that clear? I did not buy you nor do I
own
you. If you think so, you are terribly mistaken.”

“You
did
buy me, Drew. You bought me from Mr. Coal.”

“
No, I did not!
” His voice bounced off the cabin walls. “Damn it! Listen to me, will you? I did not pay that outrageous sum to
own
you. I did it to get you the hell out of that place! If I hadn’t, the one who would’ve been highest bidder would have destroyed you. And I mean that literally. He would have
destroyed
you.”

Her eyes shone with tears. “He would?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Yes! I had it on good word that he would.” His fury faded and he lowered his voice. “So, that’s what you’ve been thinking all this time — even after I’ve barely touched you — that I wanted some sort of slave to serve me in bed?”

Crimson filled her face, swept up toward her hairline. “I’m sorry.” Her voice broke. “But when you said you would b-buy me…I thought…I thought that — ”

He approached her again, catching her face in his hands. “You were wrong, Heather.” The skin over her cheekbones was so soft, so smooth, he couldn’t resist letting his thumbs graze over it. “You were terribly wrong. I won’t say I didn’t want you the moment I saw you, but that is not why I bid what I bid. I couldn’t walk out of that place and leave you there, leave you to him. Don’t ask me why, but I simply could not do it.”

Her eyes glinted beneath a shimmer of tears. “Drew, I’m sorry.”

He cut her off with a tender kiss, then drew back, brushing his thumbs over the tears now slipping down her cheeks. “Don’t be sorry, love. I can understand why you might see it that way. I am sorry I didn’t explain sooner.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “And now, I want to see that fire I sense simmering beneath this proper surface. Speak your mind. Get angry with me. Give me a good fight from time to time. Didn’t I tell you that making up is the best part of a fight?”

“I do seem to remember you saying something about making up,” she said softly, tapping her forefinger against her lips as if deep in thought.