opening song. Perhaps it was the dress, she thought, its lines subdued and ladylike. Or maybe the music. Perhaps May had been right. Simplicity seemed to work.
Three complete shows made up the evening’s entertainment, with a trio of dancing girls bringing the men to their feet. The girls were snatched up as they left the stage, and with much laughing and suggestive jokes filling the air, the scantily dressed women had their hands full fending off their admirers.
A table at the back held five or six poker players, men who rode the river in hopes of making their fortune with a deck of cards. But Morgan, true to his word, did not join them tonight. In fact, he barely took his gaze from Lily, and when she finally received a nod of dismissal from Ham, Morgan followed her from the saloon and out onto the deck.
“Ready for bed?” he asked, sliding his arm around her waist and drawing her close.
She felt her throat thicken, and the words would not pass her lips. Nodding, a small single movement of her head, she looked up at him and drew away.
“Don’t, Lily,” he said, tightening his grasp. “If Ham is watching, we want him to think you’re earning your money, don’t we?”
“I don’t care what Ham thinks,” she said, the words fierce, as if she dared the other man to challenge her.
“I do.” Morgan steered her toward his cabin, and she waited while he opened the door. As if it were a replay of the previous night, she stood aside while he lit the lamp, and he closed the curtain they’d left open earlier. He watched her closely, then opened the door, hesitating on the threshold.
“Go to bed, Lily. I’ll be back shortly.”
She awoke with his arm around her, his body beneath the sheet behind her, and her mind searched for a memory, but there was none to be had. Her gown was tucked neatly around her, just as she’d arranged it when she’d crawled between the sheets, and his fingers were circumspectly splayed at her waist. Though why that should be considered safe territory she did not know—only that a few inches up or down would have made a difference. The thought of that wide palm touching her breasts or belly made her shiver.
“Awake?” he asked, his early-morning voice sounding rusty in her ear.
“Yes.”
“Ready to get up?”
Lily nodded and then fortified her silent reply. “Yes.”
“You don’t want to snuggle a little?” She thought he sounded amused.
“No.”
“All right.” He rolled out of the bed and rose in a smooth easy movement, leaving her to clutch the sheet as she turned her head to watch him. “Unless you want to be mightily embarrassed, you’d better look at the wall, Lily,” he told her bluntly.
She turned away, her quick glance making her aware of his masculine form. She’d seen men in various stages of undress during her growing-up years. Her brothers weren’t known for being especially modest, but never had she been in such close proximity to a fully aroused male. Unless she counted the colonel who’d used and abused her with such uncaring deeds.
The cabin door closed and Lily released the breath she’d held.
The woman was getting to him, filling his thoughts. She’d drawn him from the first, and he was wary of her appeal, that womanly aura that lured him. Perhaps even at the risk of losing focus on the job at hand.
There was no doubt that Lily Devereaux was unique, a puzzle he yearned to unravel. She was both worldly-wise and innocent, and how that could be only added to the conundrum. Somewhere, she’d gotten on the wrong track and been hurt. She was wary, and with good reason, Morgan thought wryly. He’d made no bones about how he felt, yet he was behaving in a manner most unlike him, allowing her to call the shots in the tug-of-war they’d put into motion.
Spending two nights with a woman and never touching her was new to him. Women were among his favorite things in the world. And he’d treated them as such. Things. With that thought, he walked to the side of the boat and leaned against the sturdy railing. All except for one notable example, and his lips curved as he recalled the one woman he might have loved.
She’d been unavailable to him, and sometimes he thought she feared him. Or maybe she’d been unknowingly attracted to that part of him that he held inviolate. That deep, dark measure of his inner being that he revealed to no one. He knew his own strength, had learned to conceal his feelings beneath a facade of cool, unswerving devotion to duty.
And then he walked away from the one woman who might have pierced that armor he wore. Until he’d seen Lily Devereaux two nights ago, he’d thought himself immune to feminine charms. He’d been able to admire the women he met, had on occasion accepted their advances and even the favors they offered. But they’d meant nothing to him, had not stirred his emotions.
Lily was different. Not what he’d expected when first he’d seen her. Certainly not what he’d planned to find when he took her to his cabin. But, maybe, after all, exactly what he needed right now. Depending on how desperate she was.
“You’re up early.” Ham stood beside him and Morgan silently cursed his careless behavior.
“Never let a man creep up on you,” his superior officers had said, drumming the advice into him during his training. And had it not been for thoughts of Lily, he’d have heard Ham’s approach. Now he turned to him in a casual manner.
“I wondered if we were stopping today.”
“Tomorrow. We’ll be in Memphis in the morning.”
“I thought I’d look around a while,” Morgan said. “Maybe take Lily shopping.”
“Not tomorrow. May’s got plans to sing a couple of duets with Lily. They’re gonna practice in the morning.”
Morgan swallowed the words that threatened to spill from his lips. Lily was paid little enough for the work she did. Her time in the mornings should be her own. Better instincts kept him silent though. Until he considered his options, and looked at Lily with his job in mind, he needed to play his hand with care.
Once he left the riverboat, Lily would be on her own again, with no one to protect her, should he leave her behind. It would be in her best interests if Ham found her to be indispensable. Or at least a real asset to him.
He shrugged, looking back out on the river. “No matter. I can find what I want for her without her along.”
“You’re kinda stuck on the girl, Morgan,” Ham said quietly. “You don’t generally pay much mind to the women. At least you haven’t the other times you’ve traveled on my boat.”
Morgan’s jaw tensed as he considered the man’s observation. “She’s worth spending time with,” he said finally, unable to admit, even to himself, what was so dratted appealing about the woman.
“Well, she’s pretty enough, with those big, dark eyes and that mop of curls,” Ham said with a grin. “And the men can’t take their eyes off her figure. She’s made a hit.”
“Well, if she doesn’t get some shoes that fit, she’ll be singing from a chair,” Morgan said sharply.
Ham shrugged idly. “If she can’t wear what I provide she’ll have to buy her own.” He lit a cigar and squinted through the smoke. “Unless you’re planning on going out to get them for her.” He grinned as he considered the lit end of his cigar. “Got it bad, don’t you, Morgan?”
He swaggered a bit as he strolled away, and Gage held his tongue. The only way he’d be buying shoes for the girl was if he could take her with him. He’d see to it that her practicing with May took place early on in the day tomorrow, before breakfast if necessary. One way or another, he’d find her a pair of shoes that fit.
“I’ve never sung before breakfast in my life,” May said gruffly, slanting a glance at the man who watched her walk up onto the stage.