Hart's Desire (Pirates & Petticoats Book 1) (22 page)

He chuckled. “Methinks the ride back should be a pleasant one.”

Keelan made a point of removing his arm and placing it on his own leg. “Keep your hands to your own person, Captain. I’ll not tolerate your oafish groping. Despite your roguish conduct today, I will continue my efforts to preserve my reputation and my virtue. Being seen in your presence will do enough damage to my good name as it is.”

He gave a short laugh. “My touch did not seem to tarnish your reputation during the violence of the storm. Indeed,” he continued in a thoughtful, yet mocking tone, “the high and haughty Miss Keelan seemed to desire the warmth and protection of my arms, making me wonder what other services I might provide.”

There it was. He probably didn’t mean to reveal that information, but he’d just admitted to her that the intimacy they’d shared was driven by lust. Services, indeed. He spoke as if he was a stud and she a brood mare. She bit back her retort, her earlier words probably still stung his pride. Now that she understood both his place and hers in their relationship, there was no need for her to point it out or chastise. It didn’t matter, and it would change nothing, not the way he felt about her nor the different paths their lives would soon take. There could be no satisfaction in bringing it all to light. If anything, it would only cause pain. It already had.

His warm breath against her nape made the skin on her neck tingle. She shivered involuntarily and annoyed with her body’s response to his close proximity, she brought her hands up to her hair.

“Thanks to a spring rain, my appearance has been much damaged.” She groaned. “What will my family think?”

She felt him shrug as he nudged Orion into motion. “This was not a mere rain shower, Keelan. If they care about your safety, they will welcome you home, relieved you were able to weather such a fierce tempest. I fear many may not have shared our good fortune.”

She pondered his statement as they plodded through the clearing. The other abandoned shanties hadn’t survived the ravages of the storm either. Shingles, clapboards, and splintered planks littered the earth. Orion picked his way nimbly through the debris. Landon steered the horse toward home. He shifted his weight slightly, and Orion leapt into a slow easy canter.

Keelan almost squealed at the unexpected change in gait and grabbed the saddle horn with both hands. Landon’s arm snaked around her waist and settled her back into the seat. This time she did not remove it, choosing safety in exchange for pride.
 

The rest of the ride back was uneventful, and she couldn’t help but enjoy the easy conversation she had with Landon. He was a talented storyteller, keeping her holding her breath in suspense or holding her side from laughter.

At one point, she observed, “It is no wonder you love sailing the ocean. If I were a man, I think I would choose the same profession. It would be fascinating to see such exotic sights and live such extraordinary experiences.”

 
“Just say the word, my lady and I will be your most devoted escort.”

Keelan sighed and became quiet as her thoughts churned. He spoke the words lightly, but their weight was palpable. Circumstances with her father and her own troubles made such a life appear no more than a childish dream.
 

Stay distant
.
 

Exposing her tender desires to a charmer like Captain Hart would only add pain to an already broken-heart. She had to steel her emotions from the potent lure of the man, and somehow maintain a cool and aloof demeanor. Asking a snowflake to avoid melting on a hot July day in South Carolina would be easier.

Along the way back to the plantation, both Keelan and Landon marveled at the destruction. The storm had cut a swath of vegetation through the forest along the southern side of the trail. Entire trees had been uprooted. Some looked like broken broomsticks; their trunks twisted and snapped several feet from the ground.
 

“The storm headed northwest,” Landon quietly observed.
 

Keelan chewed her lower lip. If it truly went northwest then it would have hit Twin Pines.
 

Had her family made it through the storm unscathed?
 

Was the house still standing?

The stable roof was in shambles.

From what she could see, it lay in pieces scattered about the barnyard and as far as the front gardens. Men, women, and children dotted the landscape, picking up the debris. Somehow, the main house had escaped damage. Keelan expelled a relieved sigh. If the house was standing, then her family should be fine, too.

Thomas worked hitching horses to Uncle Jared’s carriage. Nearby, additional horses were saddled and tethered to the hitching post.
 

Landon and Keelan rode into the yard. Upon seeing the identity of the riders, the young groom let out a whoop and ran off into the house.

Landon dismounted and held out his hand to assist her. “It appears we have caused a bit of a tizzy.”

She nodded. “A search party has been assembled.” She glanced worriedly toward the house. “Do you think the search party will search for missing slaves as well? I worry Simon won’t make it back before his absence is noticed.”

“Simon is a very resourceful man,” he answered.

“How would you know that? You have only seen him twice.”
 

Landon shrugged. “He left a strong impression on me today.” He reached up and grasped her waist, then began to pull her from the horse.
 

She felt a violent tug on the waist of her skirt and before she could object, a loud rip made both freeze. Keelan was suspended, held in part by Landon’s extended arms, as well as the trapped fabric, snagged on the saddle horn. With a nervous swallow, she peered over her shoulder and gasped. Her skirt had been separated from the seam, exposing her twisted shift. The result unveiled a pair of ivory white legs and from the draft, most of her backside as well.

Landon glanced over her shoulder and his eyes widened. She glared at him and he leered back.
 

“Put. Me. Down.”
 

“As you wish.”

He began to lower her to the ground but paused again at the sound of another loud rip.

“Wait!” she shrieked, regretting her command.
 

Landon raised his eyebrows. “What will it be, my dear? Shall I put you down or not? I must say, I enjoy having you in my arms but would desire a more private spot.”

“You pompous oaf!” she hissed. “This is not the time to play the rutting stag. My skirt is caught around the saddle horn, and you know it.”

He glanced over her shoulder again and let his gaze travel leisurely over her exposed limbs. She thumped his chest with her fists.

“Landon Hart!”

 
“Would you like some help to that end, my love?” he asked solemnly.

His calm, confident demeanor, combined with his ornery teasing, made it hard for her to focus on the issue at hand. She expelled an exasperated breath and hoped she sounded intimidating when she spoke through clenched teeth. “If you are quite through being a scoundrel then,
yes
!”

Landon easily lifted her higher and to her shock, flung her over his shoulder like a sack of sugar. His left hand rested boldly on the small of her back, if you could call it that, since its position was either at the lowest part of her back or the highest part of her bottom. Stepping forward, he reached up and disengaged her skirt. This feat accomplished, her removed her from his shoulder and released her, allowing her to slide against his body with a speed similar to cold molasses. He was a rake to the core.

Keelan’s body instinctively arched toward his, although it had to be due to her pulling her chest away from his. Her mind and body were both traitors. She shoved against Landon’s chest and stepped back. With what she hoped was a chilling glare, she worked to wriggle the stubbornly twisted shift free.

“Look what you’ve done!” Keelan twisted around and reached for the torn waistline. She grasped a handful of fabric and tried her best to preserve her modesty. How humiliating. At least no one was near enough to witness her embarrassment. Scowling, she stepped forward and raised her face toward his. It was best to ignore the hot flush burning her cheeks. Let the scoundrel think it was anger rather than acute embarrassment. Anger, which welled inside her like an overfilled pitcher.
 

The entire day had been one compromising and mortifying event after another for her, and Landon Hart had witnessed or participated in every single one. His proximity made him an easy target for her wrath.

She poked a slender finger hard on his chest and followed when he stepped back, narrowing the space between them.
 

“Since I have been in your presence, I have been insulted, ogled, mauled and now, practically had the clothes torn from my body.”
 

Landon managed to look appalled. “Miss Grey, I
never
insulted you.”

Never in her life had Keelan repeatedly felt so discomfited, desirable, passionate, and appalled as she had since meeting Landon Hart. Why must she ever play the ninny for the man? Since their first meeting, she had managed to paint herself into a very
un
ladylike portrait. It annoyed her even more that the captain had gleefully witnessed every scandalous moment.
 

Worse, was the way her body reacted when he was near, beyond the exasperation and anger. Part of her wanted to be near him, breathe him in, thrill in the way his presence energized her. Another part of her was frantically clanking gongs in her head.

She wasn’t a daft, pampered child of the aristocracy. She’d grown up as a commodore’s daughter. Her mother had made sure she understood the ways of seafaring men. She’d be wise to avoid letting her emotions override those lessons, if only she could trust her own self control.

Seemingly undaunted by her admonishment, the sea captain was rudely avoiding eye contact as she spoke. His gaze was pointed over her shoulder.
 

“Keelan…my sweet…”

“Do
not
attempt to ply me with tender words in hopes of dampening my vexation.” Unwilling to yield him the opportunity to toss about any more of his apparently bottomless supply of mockery and charm, she continued, “I am not your
sweet
. I am not your
love
. You play a charming gentleman one moment and a pirate thief stealing kisses from me the next.” She wished she could find the words to slice his pride and dispel that infuriating grin. She gestured to her person. “Look at me! You have literally ripped the clothes from my body.”

Landon’s eyebrows lowered in warning. He spoke softly. “Keelan… love…please lower your voice. ’Tis best to continue this conversation another time. There are….”

Her jaw dropped for a moment. Did he think he could simply tell her to stay silent and postpone the admonishment he deserved until such a time it was convenient for him? She was of a mind to give him some of his own medicine.
 

She flung her free arm in the air in exasperation. “Do you really think I give a
damn
about whether or not you want to hear about what a scandalous debaucher of women you are?” He might be lord, master, and captain of his ship but this was not his domain, and she would not let him bully her into silence. She would speak her mind!
 

“And you should know, Sir Pirate, if you think your groping and pawing will have me soon falling, willing and lusty, into your bed like a common street trollop then you, sir—” She poked his chest again. “Are an arrogant
ass
!”

There. He deserved every word of that lecture.
 

She dropped her hand and tried to better gather her torn skirt. “Oh, for pity’s sake, let’s speak no more of it. I’m afraid it’s been a trying afternoon, and my patience has been worn thin.” She brushed her hand over her renegade curls. “We should be thankful the worst thing that happened was that I lost my favorite bonnet,” she muttered.

A startled gasp behind her hit Keelan like a cold blast of water. Landon’s face twitched as he fought to remain painfully composed. Who was behind her? Slowly turning, she saw Thomas standing with a small contingent of family and servants. To her horror, Mr. Pratt, Doreen, Aunt Sarah, and Uncle Jared stood on the porch at the forefront, their eyes wide and unblinking. Her father sat on a wheeled chair. Thomas and Ruth did their best to find other sights to peruse, like toes, trees, the sky. Behind them, Everett came out the front door, making matters worse.
 

Aunt Sarah managed to find her voice first. “Keelan, dear child,” she choked. “When that beast of a horse returned to the stables without you, we feared the worst!” She scurried forward and hugged her. “I am so relieved you are home safe. You appear to be…”
 

Doreen stepped forward. “Running around the countryside like some loose floozy!” she sneered, her perusal raking Keelan from head to foot. “Look at her. Riding about the plantation without a decent escort! It’s shameful.” Doreen turned toward her father. “Our name will be the laughing stock of the Charleston area, if it’s not already, thanks to her!”

Keelan stiffened at her cousin’s harsh outburst.
 

Uncle Jared scowled at his daughter, quickly grabbed her arm, and pulled her behind him. “This is none of your concern, Doreen.”

Landon stepped forward and addressed her cousin. He placed a hand over his heart and bowed slightly. “I assure you, Miss Doreen, Miss Keelan was on her best behavior. My reputation as a gentleman has remained intact and not been tarnished in the least by today’s events.”

Keelan’s jaw dropped as the meaning of Landon’s words sank in. Her aunt made a strangled choking sound and stepped back, her gaze flickering nervously between her husband and the other onlookers. Uncle Jared actually appeared to be fighting back a smile. He coughed into his hand, then scratched his neck and glancing at her father.

But it was Mr. Pratt who acted first, his face a mottled red. His glare shifted between Keelan and Landon. “I came here before continuing on to search for three runaways, to make sure my intended hadn’t been harmed by the storm.” He turned to her father and Uncle Jared. “However, in light of the current situation, consider my previous offer of marriage rescinded!”