Hart's Passion (Pirates & Petticoats Book 2) (13 page)

“Oh?” She raised a disbelieving brow. “What could be more suitable than using it to cover yourself in a woman’s presence?” Should Daniel return and find the two of them alone in the room with Landon half dressed…well, what would he think?

Landon shrugged, still grinning, “I found someone in greater need than I. That’s all. However, if I am offending you, I shall eagerly request it be returned to me, post haste.”

She sighed at the guilt his words conjured. He had given his shirt to another in need and she had berated him for it. Her cheeks flamed hotter at his mockery of her stilted admonishment.
 

She
 
studied her hands and shook her head, ashamed. Her nails were still covered in grime from the warehouse. She pushed up her sleeve to inspect her sore wrists. A bit of bruising and chafed skin and a couple places where she’d rubbed the top layer of skin off but no more damage than that.
 

In the silence, he waited for her response. She finally met his gaze. He was still grinning like a…Well she didn’t know what, but he seemed to find something quite amusing, like a joke he was still waiting for her to comprehend.

She struggled to remember his last question. Something to do with his shirt, yes?

“Nay. I’m sorry. I am just unaccustomed…” She stopped herself. He would think her a child if she admitted she’d never seen a shirtless man before. She reached up, grasped her cuff, and pulled it back down over her arm. It extended well beyond her hand. She stared at it more closely. It wasn’t a shift or a nightdress. The realization brought with it another bout of flushing across her cheeks and probably her neck as well. Blast it all.
 

She was wearing a man’s shirt.

And if she were given a hundred chances to guess
which
man’s shirt, it wouldn’t matter. She’d only need one. She fingered the fabric and then instinctively brought the collar to her nose.
 

And if she’d placed a bet on the name, she’d be right. It was faint, the musky scent of him and the sea and the sun.
 

She cleared her throat. “I guess what I should say is, I’m unaccustomed to taking the shirt off a man’s back.”

His dimples deepened. “I insist you keep it. It’s much happier on you than it has ever been on me.”

That provoked a small smile from her. “How could a shirt possibly show emotion for a person? How does a happy shirt look?”

His expression warmed, and his eyes softened to a darker blue. “I can, for certain, tell this particular shirt loves you. See how it clings to your skin? Like a milk-sopped kitten? It’s fallen hopelessly in love with you and yet has only known you a few short hours.”

“If that’s how you can tell, then most clothes must love their owners because most of them cling in some fashion or another.” She tried not to look at his breeches again.

“Oh, not true, young maiden,” Landon responded. “I can name several garments who are in extreme discord with their owners. Several of them belong to you, actually.” He glanced left and right before whispering, “Renegades, all.”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. It was apparent Landon was diverting her attention from more serious matters by setting off on this verbal excursion into frivolity. She shouldn’t encourage him, but she couldn’t resist either.
 

“My wardrobe has always been extremely loyal, Captain Hart. Surely, I would know if there were rumors of such a discord.”

He brought his hand to his chin, a finger resting across his mouth as if latching his lips shut. He sat up a bit straighter and spoke through his fingers. “Well, I for one have witnessed a few attempted escapes. Your green riding bonnet, for example, used those hideous peacock feathers sewn into the band to take flight from your head not once but twice. If you recall, I returned it to you the first time.”

 
Her lips twitched, and she tried harder to restrain another laugh, because in all honesty, the picture was still vivid in her mind: Landon sitting on his horse, a leg thrown over the saddle horn, appearing as if he was perched on a woman’s side saddle, with her bonnet sitting at a jaunty angle on his head. It made her giggle every time she thought of it. This time was no exception.

“And as
I
recall, when it was perched on your head it seemed quite at home.”

“Of course it did. It knows a solid equestrian when it encounters one. I imagine it felt safer on my top than yours.”

She narrowed her eyes in mock anger. “Then, good riddance to the treasonous article. To abandon a lady in her time of need…how lecherous. And deceitful.”

Landon cocked his head as if searching his memory. “I do recall a jacket also left without bidding you a ‘good day,' as well.”
 

“I had tied it to my saddle. I thought quite securely,” she said dryly.

“Ah, yet it departed, nonetheless. Along with a skirt…and a blouse…” His voice lowered a level. “And a shift…and a chemise…until there were…none.”

The lighthearted banter they had been sharing shifted down a deeper, sultry path. The warmth of the day intruded into the room through an open window and a thin film of perspiration covered her chest and arms.

“If I recall correctly, you intruded,
uninvited
, upon a lady bathing.” Disrupting a perfectly tranquil moment at the lake, where she had floated, peaceful and relaxed, which then lead to a brief second of shock, then to an intense surge of panic, which then lead to her to floundering for air, which took her deeper into the lake at which time she merely sunk.

And he’d taken his time helping her.

“It’s a good thing, too. Had I not been there, the lake would have swallowed you whole,” he said.

She tossed him a wry frown. “I was sinking, yet you took the time to remove your boots and stockings,” she accused. “Although, I understand, taking off one’s own boots can be a tedious task,” she said. “And could take quite a long time, depending on the fit.”

“Aye, but they are handsome boots. Made specifically for my foot by a talented Baracoan cobbler.” Landon leaned back on the stool and propped his booted feet across the corner of her bed. The tall black boots were, of course, polished to an ebony shine. “The water would have ruined them.”

“So you felt the need to save the boots before the maiden in distress,” she countered. “It makes me wonder where I might rank in the scheme of things in your life.”

He took her hand and kissed her fingers. “The angels must tilt their head up to find your spot in my heart, sweet Keelan.”

He still wanted her. Did he love her? He’d never said so, but she desperately wished he did. Her heart, she feared, was already hopelessly lost to him, although she wasn’t sure how, or if, she could yet admit it to him.

“Your side…” She gestured to the bloodied bandage.

“It’s not deep.” He glanced at the bandage. “Mrs. Schoen dressed it for me.”

 
“Thank you for helping me escape that awful place.” A shiver clenched her spine and she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and pushed away the terrible images from her dream. “You saved my life, of that I’m sure.”

“And you saved mine at least once, if not twice," he countered softly. “I am forever in
your
debt, my sweet.”

“If I recall your teachings correctly, in some cultures, you would now owe me a life debt and would have to stay with me until a situation arose where you could save my life in return,” she said.

“Then I would make sure you were never in danger, so I’d have to stay with you forever.”

The vision of Crowe stalking toward Landon’s back, blade raised high invaded her mind. She shuddered.

“Crowe...is he…”

“Dead? Yes.” Landon eyed her carefully.

Keelan closed her eyes, sickened. She had killed Gampo’s first mate. Her stomach lurched as the bile rose in her throat. A clean chamber pot seemed to appear from thin air, as she heaved.
 

Several wretchedly embarrassing moments later, Landon eased her back to her pillow. From the stool beside her pallet, he studied her, without mockery or disgust. For that, she was grateful and a little less humiliated by losing what small bit had been in her stomach.
 

“It’s understandable Keelan," he consoled. “You defended yourself…and me, for that matter. You cannot be blamed for what you did, under the circumstances. It is obvious you are not of the ilk to kill without cause.”

“I have never killed a man," she whispered hoarsely. A new fear twisted inside her. “And he wasn’t just any man Landon…He was Gampo’s first mate and cousin.”
 

Landon’s eyes widened for a brief second before they hardened. The muscles in his jaw clenched. “Gampo. Dammit. He’s never pursued us ashore before. He’s always tried to intercept us along our trade routes. He’s taken this animosity to an elevated level, although I don’t understand the cause.” Landon rubbed the heels of his hands over his closed eyes. For a moment, he appeared incredibly weary. He leaned his forearms on his knees.

Landon’s reaction baffled her. Unless… “Have you seen Gampo before?” she asked.

He shook his head. Again, the vivid azure gaze locked on hers.
 

Fynn. What had Gampo said about Fynn? Something about a sister?
 

“It sounded as if Gampo had a personal vendetta against Fynn. What did Fynn do to his sister?”
 

Landon gave a shrug and shook his head again. “I don’t know who his sister is…was. I don’t even know if she’s alive or dead. Fynn never mentioned anything about Gampo, other than he was a pig-headed privateer who’d turned into an outright pirate over the years.”

“But whatever it was, it’s made Gampo your enemy, too.” She stilled at other thoughts pounding a warning inside her head. “Now, I’m his enemy as well.”

Landon’s eyes clouded as he nodded. “This development changes things. You aren’t safe here. I must get you out of Charleston as soon as possible.” There was something else hiding in the depths of those dark blue irises. A flicker of anger? Fear? Distrust?

Landon rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. After a moment, he added, “Gampo overheard our conversation, Keelan. He’s connected you to me now.”

 
When she’d escaped down the warehouse steps, he’d called out to her.
 

“
You will not escape me, Keelan Grey!”

“He will seek me out to find
you
.”

Keelan’s brow furrowed. “What now?”

Landon took a deep breath, expelled it, and stared down at his hands. “We must separate. The sooner you are safe away from Charleston, the better. I’ll arrange for you to travel with a friend of mine. Although he doesn’t normally take passengers, he will take you and Daniel to safety. His ship is scheduled to leave Charleston tomorrow for Philadelphia. When you arrive, leave a message as to your location with the harbormaster, he’s a friend. I’ll find you.”
 

A pang of disappointment pressed into her heart. She wanted to stay with him. Gampo would seek them out, but it didn’t matter. Landon was her haven.
 

His voice still echoed earnest and warm in her ears:
“Sail away with me, Keelan. Let me show you the world…”

His jaw clenched and he paused before he captured her gaze again. “This war with Gampo has to end. I’m unwilling to put your life at risk or worry about your safety constantly. Once Conal and I hunt down Gampo and end this, I’ll sail to Philadelphia. I have friends there who will take care of you until I return.”

A painful stretching sensation gripped her heart. She didn’t want to leave him. If the pirate fled Charleston, how far would Landon have to chase Gampo? To the Caribbean? South America? How long would she wait and worry in Philadelphia, not knowing if he was alive or dead? This was no longer solely his battle. It was hers now, too.

“No,” her voice was low but firm. “I won’t run away and hide while you put your life in danger for me. I’m not a coward.”

“Keelan, love—” he began.

“No,” she cut him off before he could ply his honeyed words and infuriating logic. She wasn’t going to give him a chance to try to change her mind. “I won’t go anywhere except with you.”

He sighed and tried again. “My ship hasn’t been fully repaired and restored yet. You can’t stay in Charleston. The longer you stay, the greater the chance Gampo’s men will find you. I’m not able to accommodate you as efficiently. Besides, you’ll be safer if you
aren’t
with me. Gampo would be a fool to engage the
USS Glory.
You’ll be protected.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line.
 

Stubborn man.
 

Well, she could be just as determined. “You don’t understand what I’m saying, Landon. I don’t want to be protected and safe unless I’m with you. Besides, I’m not helpless.”

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “While I admire your courage and skills with blades and swords, battles at sea are nothing like training exercises in a forest meadow with a man old enough to be your father.”

“What are you saying? My skills aren’t good enough to prevent me from being a burden rather than a self-sufficient member of your crew?” How dare he. She lifted her chin and lowered her brows.

He shifted on the stool and scratched the back of his head before answering, “I wouldn’t have said it in those words, but…yes. You’d distract me. I’d worry I wouldn’t be able to take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself!” she snapped, indignant. Angry now. Why was he being so obstinate? “I have an idea,” she continued hotly. “
You
travel on the
USS Glory
and
I’ll
go after Gampo. I’ll come fetch you when the battle is ended. You can stay with your friends and wait for me.”

Landon flung his arms out wide. “That’s preposterous!”

“How so?” she asked. “It’s your plan.”

“My plan is to keep you safe! I’d never leave you to battle Gampo alone,” he snapped back.

“Exactly!”

“You—what? You agreed with me,” he said warily.

He was so infuriating, she could scream. She jabbed her finger in his direction. “I can’t let you leave me behind to battle Gampo alone. It’s would be as hard for me as it would be for you, if we changed places.”