This was his chance to claim her – pureprovidence she worked on the same boat he booked passage.Providence indeed. If he kidnapped her quietly, no one would noticeand if any white people did, they might raise an eyebrow, but theywouldn’t care.
Allison a chambermaid. He shook his head.Apparently she had been desperate for money, the poor woman. Beinga chambermaid was a waste of her talents. He’d buy her perfume andfancy dresses. A well-bred woman brought more money in bed than acommon whore. Once he found her he’d make sure she didn’t have towork another day in her life. Not hard labor. Only the pleasurablekind. And he planned it to be pleasurable for both of them.
He wasn’t a brute like Grier. He treated alady right as long as she behaved.
Allison was a brave woman to stay this closeto St. Louis after committing murder. Or maybe foolish. There wasno doubt in his mind she had started the fire. Grier was unable tobeat the fiery temper out of her. The defiance burning in Allison’seyes had increased his nightly pleasure. He relished the memory ofdominating her, her ultimate surrender, gave him the strongestclimax of his life.
He’d succeed where Grief failed, skillfullytaking her in hand. He wouldn’t tolerate any of her belligerence. Not from any woman white or black.Soon he’d have the saucy whore turned into a perfect meek doll.He’d teach her how to be a courtesan, how to wait on a man.
He pressed his lips together. “Mmmm.” It wasgoing to be a pleasure. He’d enjoy her charms like he should haveyears ago.
He followed Allison out of the parlor ontothe boiler deck. Looking both ways, he didn’t see her. He hurrieddown the steps to the main deck. If she planned to hide among thecrowd it would prove a mistake. He scanned the faces and bodies ofevery colored woman on the deck. After making two rounds, he confirmed Allison was not amongthem.
Had she disappeared into a stateroom? Perhapsshe made extra money pleasuring the men on board. It was a commonpractice for chambermaids and sexually satisfying a man wassomething she knew how to do well.
He groaned and returned to the bar. It wastorture thinking of her being with another man. He bought anotherbeer. Sitting at the bar, he waited. She couldn’t hide forever. Ifhe couldn’t find her before the next stop, he’d get off theship.
She’d surely leave the QueenBee once she knew he was on board. The steamboat was afloating cage, and he doubted she knew how to swim.
If she wanted to make this a game of cat andmouse he was ready. In fact, he’d delight in the pursuit every stepof the way.
Time for the cat to sharpen his claws andpursue the mouse.
Chapter 14
GEORGE HELD ALLISON’S hand, his grip firm. Hewouldn’t let her go. Feeling the physical connection with herhelped to calm his nerves. If she was by his side he could keep hersafe.
“Where are we going?” Allison asked out ofbreath.
“My brother’s house.”
“Isn’t that back in St. Louis?”
“Yes.”
“We need to move farther away than there!”Allison said. “One of Mr. Coswell’s houses is in St. Louis.”
Mr. Coswell—that name sounded familiar. Hecouldn’t place where he’d heard it before. “We need to stop thereand get supplies. We have no food, little money … I want to protectyou, but I don’t want us to starve either.”
Allison bit her lip and did not respond. Thefear weighing on her made her look ten years older. Why hadn’tAllison told him about Mr. Coswell before? When they got to hisbrother’s house they needed to have a serious talk.
“How are we going to get there? Walk?”Complaint equaled the worry in her voice.
“I’ll get us a ride.” George debated whetherto leave Allison and talk to the men alone or take her with him. Itwas a short debate. Damn. Women could be difficult. “Come on.”
He ambled up to an old black man with acovered wagon. The gray-haired gentleman looked kindly enough withbushy whiskers and wrinkles around his eyes and mouth as if hesmiled a lot. “Where are you bound?” George asked.
The old man motioned with his head to theback of the wagon. “Moving to St. Louis. Going to live with mydaughter.”
If he was moving did he have enough room inthe wagon for both of them?
“Do you have room for a couple passengers?”George asked. “We need a ride to my brother’s house. I can pay youfor your trouble.”
“I don’t mind helping you two out. It wouldbe a mighty tight squeeze, but you’re welcome to try.”
George looked into the back of the wagon.Perhaps if he moved the chairs around and stacked the boxes betterthey’d fit. “Can I rearrange your belongings, sir?”
“I reckon so. If you’re careful youngman.”
“Yes, sir. I’ve worked as a roustabout. Iknow all about packing.” He nearly emptied the entire wagon.Watching Allison out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her shifther weight and rock in place, her body language blaring at him tohurry. After he’d filled the wagon again, he’d made enough room forone person. “I think we’ll manage,” George said.
He climbed in a lay down in the small spaceat the left side of the wooden bed. Allison climbed up after himand paused. “And where am I going to ride?”
“On top of me.” He grinned.
Allison huffed, but she eased herself on topof him without a protest.
George held back a groan. Her bosom pressedinto his chest. Each thud of her heart echoed a thud of his own.With a slap of the reins, the oldman got his mules moving. The wagon jostled forward and Georgereached around holding onto Allison’s back.
The innocent movement pressed her into himharder. He felt the heat between her legs and
