'What's that?'
'Please don't chatter away endlessly like that, huh?' 'I never chatter!'
she said indignantly.
'Never?' His brow arched.
She flushed.
'Almost never. Lieutenant, do you realiz~ how very rude you're being?
You've disturbed my sleep, and now you haven't the decency to leave me
alone to dress.' His eyes fell upon her. Lingered over her. He was still
smiling.
'Do excuse me then, Miss. Stuart. But count on this--for the next few
days, I'll disturb your sleep often.'
He tipped his hat to her and strode from the room. Tess pulled the
covers close around her, then she smiled and sank low into the bed.
It was a busy day for Jamie. Jon Red Feather was going to be
accompanying him, but other than that, they would travel alone. Since he
didn't know quite what he was going to come up against, he spent a fair
amount of time determining what he wanted to pack on the supply horses
and what he might bring in Tess Stuart's wagon.
Dealing with Colonel Worthingham hadn't been hard. Eliza had been behind
the trouble, he had known that.
Worthingham might be blind about his daughter, but he was a good
officer.
Not that Eliza wasn't careful. She had been with Worthingham when Jamie
went to see him. She had spoken of the danger, of how Jamie was needed
at the post, and she had been so sweet no one might ever have suspected
her of having an evil thought.
Worthingham had suggested that another man might do the job; Jamie had
politely reminded him that he wasn't officially in the cavalry anymore,
and that had done the trick. He had three months now, three months on
his own.
And Jon was his own man. He always had been. Jamie was glad Jon was
coming along, even if he was being a thorn in Jamie's side over Tess. As
if the minx needed any champions. The girl did know how to fight her own
battles.
He didn't want to battle, he thought. He closed his eyes, then
remembered the way she had looked that morning, half dressed and
completely seductive, the outline of her delineated by the sunlight
against the soft white cotton.
And she 83 had smiled and thrown herself into his arms. He remembered
the taste and feel and texture of her and had known that he had to get
out of the room before he took a running leap and fell upon her in the
disarray of her gown and covers.
He was a fool. He should be steering as clear of her as he could.
Instead, he had given his word to take her to Wiltshire. And he kept his
word.
There was just so much he wanted from her in return. And she was
desperate enough to give it.
That wasn't the way he wanted her, he told himself. But then he
reflected that he wanted her in any way possible, and he wasn't quite
