Full Steam Ahead (19 page)

D
arius woke with a crick in his neck. A crick. Imagine that. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept long enough to get a crick in anything. He grinned and reached behind his head to rub the sore spot at the base of his skull while rising to a sitting position.

What time was it? He glanced around the study, noting the light flooding the room. The tick of the desk clock lured him from his seat on the disheveled sofa, promising answers, but when he got to his desk, it was the letter he’d written to his parents that drew his attention.

Gathering the pages one after the other, he arranged them in order and carefully folded the address sheet around them. After cutting off a wafer seal from the sheet he kept in his desk, Darius affixed it to where the four folded corners met on the back, then set the packet atop the article he’d bundled yesterday evening. A bundle someone had wrapped in brown paper and addressed for him. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Nicole.

Still taking care of him, even while he slept.

Darius grabbed up the desk clock and stared it in the face.
A quarter after eleven? Truly?
If he’d fallen asleep around dawn, that would mean he’d slept for at least four hours, possibly closer to five. And not once had he dreamed of the accident. Remarkable. He’d never gone more than two hours without falling into one of those hellish nightmares.

He needed to find Nicole. Tell her. Thank her.

He scooped his leather gaiters from the floor with a single swipe of his arm and hastened upstairs to change into a fresh shirt and trousers.

As he yanked clean clothes from his bureau, he recalled the feel of her arms wrapped about him, the way her cheek had rested against the planes of his back. She’d coaxed him out of his torment even before he’d awakened, then drew the poison of his guilt from him—first with her patient acceptance of his story, then with a fiery challenge that dared him to get out of the way and let God redeem his failures. Darius grinned as he recalled her fearless prodding. Not much of a gentleman at the best of times, he must have been a bear last night. Yet his little pirate never once backed down. She said what needed to be said then left him with a kiss and words of hope.

The woman might think God spared his life in part so he could be here when she found herself in desperate need of employment, but he knew the truth. God had not brought Nicole to Oakhaven for a job. He’d brought her here to pull the thorn out of a stubborn bear of a man’s paw so that he could finally start to heal.

And something told him if he allowed her to leave him, an even larger thorn would take its place. One from which he might never recover.

Darius haphazardly shoved the tails of his linen shirt into
his trousers and ran a comb through his overlong hair.
Bear
was right, he decided, gazing critically at his reflection in the mirror above his washstand. He looked half-wild. But he had no time to worry over his appearance. He had to find Nicole.

He found her by the pond with Jacob, behind the big oak tree. Darius slowed his step. She stood behind the boy, her arm in line with his as she helped him perfect his throwing motion.

“That’s right,” she encouraged. “Keep your arm relaxed. Your last throw was close, so just release a little earlier. Feel that wrist movement?”

“Yes’m.” Jacob nodded, his face a study in concentration.

“Good. Now, aim for the dirt between those two tree roots. Remember, keep your throw strong, but controlled. Wrist and arm work together in one smooth motion.” She let go of the boy’s arm and backed up a few paces. “Cock, release, follow through. Go!”

Jacob drew the knife back, stepped toward the tree, and flung the blade. It landed with a satisfying
thwack,
tip buried in the sand, off-center but within the designated area.

“I did it!” Jacob cried, his face beaming as he spun toward his mentor, who was already squealing and clapping in delight. Nicole ran forward and embraced the kid with such abandon it made Darius’s chest ache. She spun Jacob in a circle, both of them laughing as they celebrated. Then they slowed, and as she lowered the boy to the ground, her gaze lifted to collide with his.

“Darius.” She straightened immediately, like a child caught doing something wrong. “I-I mean, Mr. Thornton. I was . . . um . . . just giving Jacob a few lessons on knife throwing.” She backed away from him, and Darius frowned. Why was she acting so skittish? Where was his fearless pirate?

She tugged the blade from the earth and wiped it clean on the hem of her skirt. “I’m sure you’re wanting me back up at the house, though, aren’t you? Now that the study is . . . ah . . . available. I’ll head there straightaway.”

“Hold, Miss Greyson,” he said, not about to let her go hying off without him. “There’s no rush.”

She stopped abruptly and finally looked him in the eye. “There’s not?”

More than one question shone in her golden-brown gaze. He wanted to spend time answering them all. As well as asking a few of his own. But they weren’t alone.

“You’re not mad, are you, Mr. Thornton?” Jacob asked, worry creasing his brow. “Miss Nicole made sure I finished all my chores before we started the lessons. She even helped me with some of ’em.”

“Did she now?” Darius arched a brow but couldn’t keep the stern expression in place for more than a second. Grinning, he ruffled the boy’s hair. “I’d say you two had a perfectly productive morning, then. I’ve got a clean barn and a stable hand who is well on his way to becoming rather skilled with a blade. That was an impressive throw, Jake.”

The boy glowed with pride at the praise. “Thank you, sir. Miss Nicole says I’ll have to practice every day if I want to get as good as her.”

“I suppose you’ll need a blade of your own to be able to accomplish that feat.” Darius stroked his chin in what he hoped was a thoughtful manner. “I guess it’s a good thing I’ll be riding into town to post some mail today. You can ride along with me and pick out a knife from the ones at the mercantile. I’ve decided I can’t have my employees running around out here without some kind of protection. Snakes, you know.”

“Do you mean it, Mr. Thornton? My own knife?” Jacob hopped around Darius’s legs like a popping kernel in hot oil.

Darius chuckled and ruffled the boy’s hair again. “Yep. Go on up to the house and see what jobs Mrs. Wellborn has for you. Now that the house is no longer under quarantine due to a sleeping dragon, we can get on with our work. Then, when the chores are done and we’ve had some lunch, we can be on our way.”

“Yes, sir!” Jacob didn’t hesitate. He sprinted up the hill to the house, his short legs pumping as fast as they could go.

“A sleeping dragon?” Nicole raised a brow, her tone wry. “The creature looked more like a drowsing puppy the last time I saw him.”

“Thanks to you.” Darius stepped close and brushed a lock of hair that the wind had blown free behind her ear. His finger lingered, savoring the feel of soft skin along the hairline of her neck. Her teasing grin faded, and her breath hitched.

“Darius?” Her gaze raked his face as if searching for answers to questions she couldn’t find the words to ask.

He was more than ready to answer her questions, spoken or otherwise, but there were a few things he needed to say first. So he stepped back. But not without purpose. No, he had another hypothesis to test, and he aimed to establish conditions conducive to achieving the desired results. Hence, when he stepped back, he made sure to move in a direction that would take him closer to the tree—the large oak that would afford them a measure of privacy if Nicole would be accommodating enough to follow him.

Darius crunched through the dead leaves that had fallen around the base of the tree to make room for new spring growth, holding his breath until he heard her steps behind him. Excellent.

“Darius? What is it? You’re not acting like yourself. Are you angry that I didn’t wake you this morning? I know how much you hate to waste time, but I really thought you needed the extra—”

His laugh cut her off. “I’m not angry with you, Nicole.” How could he be angry? She’d given him back his life last night. His family. Shone much needed light into the dark places of his soul. He owed her a debt, one he intended to repay with a first installment that would free her from whatever snag she found herself in with that Jenkins person, and the rest to be paid back slowly, over many years, with incredibly exorbitant interest.

“If you’re not angry, then what is wrong?” Nicole demanded. Well, maybe not demanded. She was biting her lip, after all. A sure indication that she wasn’t nearly so composed as she would have him believe. But then, his little pirate hated to show weakness. She preferred to go on the attack . . . or just go—handling things on her own.

That last thought cinched around his heart like a too-tight belt, but he willed the desperation away. He had to be strong to win the respect of his pirate princess, strong and bold.

“Really, Darius. First you sleep nearly to noon, then you promise Jacob a trip to town for a knife he doesn’t really need, at least not immediately, and now you’re out here being all quiet and mysterious when you’re supposed to be barking orders or handing me a page of instructions so I can get back to work.”

“Mysterious, am I? Hmm. I rather like that.” He edged closer to the tree, angling his body in such a way that she would have to step in between him and the oak in order to look him in the eye. Which she did. Darius fought to keep the smile from his face.
Like a tug pilot guiding a barge
up the
Hudson,
he thought smugly.
Not that she is
anything like a barge,
he quickly amended.
Blast
. He’d have to do better than that when it came time for courting, or he’d lose her for sure.

“You never go to town,” she insisted, an attractive shade of pink rising in her cheeks. “You always send Wellborn, and you’ve already sent him this week. Twice. Including today. Why aren’t you running off to your workshop or burying your nose in a mechanics journal or . . . Stop staring at me like that.”

“All right.” Darius complied by advancing toward her, cupping her delicate jaw in his hand, then closing his eyes . . . while he pressed his mouth to hers.

She stiffened in surprise. At least he hoped it was surprise, for she still held a weapon in her hand. A detail he’d failed to recall until just that moment. But then a
thud
vibrated the earth near his foot, and Nicole’s palms came to rest against his chest. Blissfully empty, knifeless palms. Palms that sent delicious shivers dancing through him as he closed the distance between them, leaning her back against the tree.

His hypothesis had been correct. She tasted sweet—sweeter than honey fresh from the comb. And she kissed him back with an intoxicating mixture of shyness and fiery abandon so essentially Nicole that blood surged through his veins in recognition. She was his match.

Raising a second hand to cup the other side of her face, Darius drew her mouth even closer and deepened the kiss. His fingers caressed the hair at her nape; his thumbs stroked her cheeks. The clean scent of her filled his senses, building a craving for more. More that wasn’t yet his to claim.

Slowly he gentled his hold and eased the pressure of his lips against hers. Unable to let her go all at once, he weaned himself with short, sweet kisses to her lips, her cheeks, her
forehead. Then he tucked her head beneath his chin and concentrated on steadying his breathing.

He’d intended to talk to her first, to explain how much her being there for him last night had meant. But once he’d had her positioned safely behind the tree, the need to kiss her had erupted over him with such force that all thought of conversation fled.

A gentleman would apologize for such indelicate behavior, he supposed. Darius grinned. Good thing Nicole had never mistaken him for a gentleman, for he couldn’t seem to dredge up one iota of remorse.

N
icole closed her eyes as Darius folded her into his chest, her breathing ragged, her body trembling. He’d kissed her. Well and truly kissed her. On purpose. And merciful heavens, how the earth had shifted.

She remembered wondering once what it would be like to be the object of Darius’s focused attention. Now she knew.
Glorious. Absolutely glorious.
The intensity of his gaze, the passion of his kiss, the tenderness of his touch. Even now his hands stroked her back as he held her. She’d give up anything to be able to stay with him like this forever. Anything except her family’s future. That she couldn’t sacrifice.

Gathering the remnants of her shattered resolve, Nicole pushed against Darius’s chest and stepped away from his embrace. “We shouldn’t have done—”

“Shhh,” he interrupted, placing a finger over her lips. The touch shot a new wave of warmth through her that Nicole was helpless to stop. “No regrets.”

She turned her head aside, away from his touch, his scrutiny. “You don’t understand. I—”

“I understand that you were there for me last night.” His soft voice rippled over her like the gentle lapping of a lake upon the sand, slowly eroding her resistance. “You were there for me in the darkness of my nightmare, Nicole, a nightmare that has tormented me every time I closed my eyes over the last eighteen months. Yet you banished it with the touch of your hand.”

He captured her fingers and lifted them to his mouth. His breath stirred against the skin on the back of her hand a moment before his lips descended. The kiss lingered with a sweetness that made her heart leap even as despair sliced it in two.

“Please don’t,” she whispered. “I have to leave soon, and this will only—”

“I wrote to my parents.” He squeezed her hand and trapped it against his chest, refusing to let her finish her explanation. “I told them everything. The
Louisiana
. The girl who drowned. My compulsion to study boiler explosions.”

Nicole nodded. When she’d seen the pages, she’d known he’d held nothing back from them. “I’m glad, Darius. That gulf needed to be crossed. I’m certain they’ll understand. They’ll support you. Love you.”
Like I do
.

Oh, heavens. It’s too late.
Nicole bit back a cry and tugged free from his grasp. She spun from him, her only thought to escape. But he was too fast. He caught her wrist and turned her back to face him.

“I also wrote them about you.” His blue gaze bored into her with paralyzing force. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t flee. Could only stare at the social travesty of his ungroomed features—the scruffy half beard shadowing his jaw, the too-long hair falling over his forehead—and feel her heart beat with love for this unconventional man.

Darius’s grip softened on her wrist until his fingers were tracing tiny circles over the sensitive skin. “I told them that I had met a woman who wasn’t afraid to stand toe-to-toe with me. A woman who had seen my flaws and learned my darkest secrets, yet didn’t immediately run for the hills.”

His self-deprecating chuckle coaxed a reluctant smile from her, the sound soothing the sharp edges of her turmoil.

“I told them how this woman seemed instinctively to know when to comfort and when to confront, and how I was better with her in my life than I’d ever been on my own.” His voice deepened as he spoke, the huskiness brushing over her like an angora shawl on a cold winter night.
Better with me than
on your own?
Oh, how his words caressed her, thrilled her. She wanted to snuggle up in him and block everything else out.

But that was impossible.

Blinking back tears, Nicole touched a hand to his face, praying he would feel her regret even though she dared not speak it aloud. “Did you tell them I am your employee?” she said instead, trying not to flinch as the warmth in his eyes suddenly cooled. “Did you tell them I would be gone by the time your letter reached them? That a promise made to my dying father would keep me from ever returning?”

“What?” His voice sharp, Darius’s fingers bit into her wrist, and he jerked her toward him. “Why can’t you return to Oakhaven once your errand is complete?” He searched her face, but she offered no explanation. The truth hurt too much. He released her and rubbed his hand over his face. “You know, it occurred to me this morning that perhaps it would be a good idea to get away from the boilers for a while. Take a break. Start again with a fresh perspective. I could take you to New Orleans myself, show you—”

“No!”

Hurt flashed in his eyes at her shouted denial, and she hated herself for putting it there. But what choice did she have? Darius in New Orleans? A violent tremor shook her core. She’d never survive. The warring halves of her heart would tear her in two.

As she watched, the hurt faded from his eyes, replaced by scientific curiosity. He straightened, crossed his arms over his chest, and regarded her in much the same way he did his boilers. Examining. Calculating. Determining weaknesses.

Merciful heavens
. Her greatest weakness was Darius himself. How could she defend against that?

“Why?” he asked calmly, his tone detached, as if it were a scientific inquiry he posed. “Why don’t you want me to accompany you to New Orleans? I might be a bit rusty on my etiquette, but I believe it is much preferred for a young woman to travel with an escort than alone.”

He was right, of course, which only made the question that much more difficult to answer.

“Why, Nicole?” he pressed.

“It would make things harder on me,” she hedged. “It’s better if I go on my own.”

He didn’t even blink, just stared at her as he would a puzzle that needed solving. “Why?”

“It’s not your concern!” Nicole stomped her foot, her toe kicking the hilt of her fallen knife. She bent to retrieve it, the weight of the blade a reminder of who she was and what she needed to be about. “I’ll handle my father’s business the way I see fit, and I’ll thank you to stop interfering.” Her heart pounded more from fear than anger, but she held her ground, needing to prove to herself that she was strong enough to do what had to be done.

“Why?”

Nicole fought to restrain the scream rising in her throat. “Leave it alone, Darius.
Please
.” Her voice broke on the last word, and a tear slipped past her lashes.

“Why?” Compassion crept into his tone this time, and that touch of feeling was her undoing.

“You want to know why, Darius?” she shouted up at him. “Fine! I don’t want you with me because I’m going to New Orleans to get married!”

He reeled backward, as if she’d shot him, and Nicole couldn’t bear it. A sob wrenched straight from her heart and flew past her lips as she turned and ran for the house.

Married?
Darius staggered, his shock dulling his response for critical seconds, allowing Nicole to stretch out a sizeable lead. Shaking off his stupor with a jerk of his head, he sprinted after her. She couldn’t fire a shot like that over his bow and expect no return fire.

“Wait!” He yelled after her, not surprised when she ignored his call and ran even faster. But he wasn’t about to let her outdistance him. He had no fancy clothes to hinder his movement today.

Muscles straining, stride lengthening, he closed in on her. Whimpers echoed in the air around him as he drew abreast of her, but he hardened himself against the sound, against the sight of tears rolling down her cheeks. He refused to let her run away from him without an explanation.

“Nicole! Stop!”

She paid him no heed. Again.

Fine. If she wouldn’t stop on her own, he’d see to the task for her. With a surge of speed, Darius passed her and veered sharply into her path, turning toward her as he did so. He
tightened his abdomen an instant before she crashed into him. A grunt squeezed from his lungs at the contact, but he locked his arms around her. She fought to escape his hold but was no match for his greater strength.

All at once she gave up and wilted against him. Turning, she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shirt. Her hot tears scalded his chest more painfully than any boiler steam ever could. Yet even as his hold softened, the angry questions welling inside him demanded release.

“Are you betrothed, Nicole?” he asked through clenched teeth, bracing himself for her answer. Heaven help him. If she was, she never should have responded to his kiss with such sweet abandon. That kiss had touched places within him he’d forgotten existed. She
couldn’t
belong to another. She belonged to him.

No response. Why didn’t she answer?

“Blast it all, woman.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pried her away from him so he could see her face. “It’s a simple enough question. Are you betrothed? Yes or no?”

She shook her head, and Darius had to lock his knees to keep his legs from collapsing in relief beneath him.

“No,” her voice scratched, “but I might as well be. I must choose a husband from among my father’s business associates, those he trusts to take over his company upon his death. I am to procure him an heir.”

An heir?
Darius released his hold on Nicole, so many dark emotions raging inside him, he was afraid he’d hurt her. His hands fisted at his sides, longing to slam into her father’s face. He didn’t care how sick the old man was, he had no right to use his daughter’s love and affection against her in such a way. “He’s selling you off to the highest bidder,” Darius growled. “He deserves to lose his company.”

“It’s not like that!” Nicole scrubbed the tears from her cheeks with an impatient swat of her hand, then grabbed him by the shirtfront. “None of the men in New Orleans know why I am coming. I will be the one in control.

“Don’t you see? My father could have ordered me to marry a man of his choosing, but he didn’t. He trusted me to make the choice, gave me the freedom to choose a man I could come to love. He wanted that for me, he just needed to speed the timetable up a bit. It was supposed to be simple. I sail to New Orleans, have an old family friend introduce me to eligible young men of good character and knowledgeable backgrounds. I determine for myself which man would make a suitable husband for me and heir for my father, then present him with the . . . gift my father set aside for my dowry, and we would marry.”

Darius noted her stumble over the word
gift.
She was holding something back.

“I wasn’t supposed to meet
you
, Darius.” The pain in her words cut through him, driving all other concerns from his mind. Her balled hand loosened to lie flat against his chest. “I wasn’t supposed to come to Liberty at all. I was supposed to arrive in New Orleans with my heart fully intact and free to give to the man I deemed worthy.”

Was she saying her heart was no longer free? Darius’s pulse gave a little leap as his resolve steeled. If there was a way around this promise she’d made to her father, he’d find it. He just needed a little time. Time and a conversation with Wellborn. He had to get to town.

Darius reached up and covered Nicole’s hand with his. She peered up at him, her lips begging to be kissed. Yet her anguished brown eyes held his desire in check. Leaning forward, he touched his forehead to hers, his eyes closing as he breathed in her scent.

“I won’t ask you to break your promise to your father, Nicole, but I will ask you to give me time to find a way around it. I’m certain there’s a way to provide your father with his heir without you pledging your life”—
to
a man other than me—
“to a stranger.”

She shook her head slightly, the movement vibrating through him from where their heads met. “Time is something I don’t have, Darius. My father is too ill, possibly dying. I can’t delay. I will stay here until the end of our agreed time, but then I will leave for New Orleans. Alone.”

She pulled her head away from his, and Darius fell forward at the loss. Then her lips brushed against his brow, and everything inside him stilled.

She’d given him six days—six days to untangle the web her father’s promise had trapped her in, six days to unravel her mysteries, six days to convince her that she belonged with him and no other.

When she pulled away from him, he made no move to stop her. Time was of the essence, and the instant Nicole entered the house and closed the door behind her, he sprang into action. Sprinting to the barn, he called out to Jacob, who was carrying wood from the shed up to the house.

“Time to go to town, Jake. Go tell Mrs. Wellborn we’ll grab a bite to eat in Liberty, and then meet me at the corral.”

The boy gave a whoop of glee and scampered off. Darius saddled his mount before striding to the house to collect his letter, article, and sufficient funds to cover whatever necessities might arise—lunch, posting fees, bribes to entice certain parties at the levee to share information that Wellborn might not have been able to pry free.

He had six days to solve Nicole’s mysteries and claim her heart. He’d not waste a single minute.