Jenna Kernan (10 page)

Some part of Jack’s brain registered a scream and shouting. Lily pushed at his shoulders, but it only made him more determined to hold on.

She turned her head, twisting away.

“Jack. Look!”

J
ack lifted his gaze and followed the direction she indicated. Another boat bobbed out of the canyon. But this one was in more trouble than they had been. The men on board bailed and shrieked. Lily straightened and Jack released her as they both leaned out to watch the unfolding catastrophe.

“They’re sinking!”

Jack stared at the half-filled skiff. The men now used their hats to bail, but the vessel continued to dip into the water, sinking by agonizing degrees. Jack took out his oar, making for them against the current in the calm water.

He judged the distance and the speed the skiff sank and knew he would not reach them before they lost the lot.

From behind them came a floating barge, complete
with piles of gear and a fully erected tent. Somehow that craft had shot the rapids unscathed. Jack realized that such a flat conveyance could not take on water or sink. But it could break apart in rough water and it could split into pieces on rocks. The men on the barge steered for the struggling men.

Jack heard a cry and saw the skiff drop below the surface, taken down by a ton of supplies. The men flailed in the icy water as Jack drew beside them. His vessel was stout and he had no fear of them overturning her as they came aboard.

He offered his hand and dragged both passengers in.

One was crying. “Everything. We’ve lost it all, Cameron.”

The other passenger cradled his head in his hands, so at first Jack did not recognize the man who had helped him launch his boat. His heart ached for them as he turned them toward the shore. The two defeated greenhorns would have to hike to the Mounties’ outpost at the mouth of the rapids and seek help there, for they had not really lost everything. They still had their lives.

Jack deposited the wet and weeping stampeders on the shore by the portage. Lily and Jack exchanged a look and he knew Lily understood. This could just as easily have been them.

She lingered by the men, patting their shoulders and hovering. Jack noted the Mounties approaching.

“Let’s go, Lily.”

She glanced up and saw the lawmen and quickly climbed aboard, calling Nala in.

He used the long pole and pushed them back into the gentle current.

They were well in the center before she spoke.

“You built us a strong boat.”

“Don’t congratulate us just yet. We still have White Horse Rapids.”

“Yes, but that’s tomorrow’s trouble. We are safe and whole today and on our way to Dawson.”

Jack rested a hand on the gunwales. “I hope she’ll last.”

She came to sit beside him at the rudder, nestling close.

“I’ve watched the building, Jack. Many of those men have no business wielding a hammer much less trying to run rapids. Those two were luckier than most. Because of you, they survived.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You turned back.”

“Anyone would have.”

She sighed and patted his hand as if he were a boy. “No, some would not. It’s still a race, Jack. When I imagined this adventure, I recognized the danger, but I never considered seeing so many men fail. It’s heartbreaking.”

Her teeth chattered and he knew they must get her dry before she got frostbite. He draped the blanket
around her and rubbed her shoulders, but she began to shiver, so Jack turned toward shore. He found a nice flat place and was halfway to the landing when he realized the spot was occupied by two men digging.

He and Lily stared as the stampeders heaved a stiff body into a shallow grave. Jack changed the angle of the rudder and with a slow surreal motion, usually reserved for dreams, they drifted by the tableau.

“The river will flood that bank and take them back,” said Lily.

Jack made for deeper water, sending them out into the river’s gentle flow. How could this be the same river they had battled only minutes ago? He just couldn’t get his mind around the change.

“I’ll bring us in at the next likely spot and we’ll have a fire to warm you up.”

“I’ll last ’til sunset.”

He gave her a hard look and used her words against her.

“And leave a toe or two here? I’ll be damned if I’ll let your toes turn black, either.”

She gave him an approving smile and then disappeared around the front of their gear. Jack thought she meant to spot for hazards, but when several minutes passed, and she didn’t appear, he grew worried. He called but received no answer, so he tied the rudder and went forward to check on her.

He rounded the boxes to find her in the bow, her wet clothing stripped off and cast about her. She was naked and crouched, so that he could see her long pale back, narrow waist and lovely pear-shaped bottom. Lily, not yet seeing him, rummaged in her bag, drawing out a white chemise. Jack was so shocked he staggered back against the side with a thud. She turned, giving him a clear view of the full swell of one breast before she clasped the garment to her chest. Her eyes widened and she rose, pressing the chemise tight, but managing only to cover her breasts and sex. She was lovely as a Rubens painting, pink and curvy, with slim arms and tapering legs. Her knees were rosy as her cheeks.

“Who’s steering the boat!” she cried.

Jack tried to answer but succeeded only in stammering.

Lily’s eyes narrowed and she straightened, looking just as indignant as a woman could. She lifted a slim arm and pointed to the stern. “You get back there.”

He retreated, Nala trotting beside him, but the image of Lily, naked, her wet hair curling about her shoulders, stayed fixed in his mind like a beacon. He’d never forget that sight as long as he lived. Her body managed to be earthy and ethereal at the same time as it was sensual and divine. How would he ever look at her again without seeing beneath her clothing?

Jack untied the rudder and kept his eyes on the river while his mind dwelled on her body and all its lush curves and tempting hollows. What lovely contradictions. Slim, yet plump, short yet lithe. The palms of his hands sweated and twitched as he clenched the handle he’d sanded smooth, but not as smooth as her skin.

Lily appeared in his sight shortly thereafter, fully dressed, with a blanket shawl. Her wet clothing was either stowed or hanging aft.

“Don’t look at me like that, Jack. I’m not some morsel to be devoured.”

He tore his gaze from her, casting it down river and somehow he held it there for several more miles, as Lily hoisted the sails. He did want to devour her—every luscious mouthful.

Jack recognized Squaw Rapids from the white water, but decided that he had better have full light to run them. That would mean they’d take the first tomorrow as a warm-up to the more treacherous White Horse Rapids.

He gazed up at the clear sky, knowing the lack of clouds would bring a cold night. Would she nestle against him again and would he be able to resist her? He knew the temptation would be worse, now that he knew exactly what lay beneath her clothing. He dreaded and anticipated the night in equal measures.

Lily waited until they grounded to slip from the bow and then tied a line about the sturdy trunk of a
pine. She secured a second line before joining him. He could tell from the tension in her body that she was struggling as well.

“Are you planning to stare at me all the way to Dawson?” she asked.

He decided to grab the bull by the horns. “Hard not to.”

“Well, who asked you to come sneaking around like a peeping Tom?”

“I called. You didn’t answer. I was worried.”

“A gentleman would have averted his eyes.”

“I doubt that.”

Lily shoulders sank a little as her pretence of indignation slipped. “You’ll not convince me you never saw a woman in the buff before, Jack.”

“Never saw one like you, Lil.”

She straightened and faced him. Her eyes were wide and glittering. The expression reminded him of grief, but that made no sense. She must still be angry and that was well and good. As long as she was spitting nails, she’d keep her distance and he’d have a fair chance of not following the impulse that was filling his mind even now. But then he recalled their kisses and how she had melted against him. At Lake Bennett she’d asked him not to shame her and he’d tried to do as she asked.

“I’ve ruined it, haven’t I?”

He didn’t pretend not to understand her. For it was true. Everything felt different now.

“I can’t think of you as just a partner, Lily. Not for a long time now.”

“But I’m still your partner.”

Jack shook his head. “I want more.”

She stared at him with wide troubled eyes.

“You sleep in the boat,” he said. “I’ll bed down on the bank.”

He bailed the boat and then gathered a pile of wood three times what they’d need just to keep away from her as she set out the cooking pan, beans and bacon, just so he could work off some of the steam that now seemed to flow through his veins instead of blood. He was aflame with need and stuck here in the wilderness with a woman who tempted him to distraction, but whom he respected too much to seduce.

He stomped a branch and it splintered, flying in two directions.

He retrieved one and threw it with all his might. It contacted the trunk of a pine and fell to earth, none the worse for his fit of temper. When he finally deemed it safe for him to approach her, he stomped back to camp and dumped the gathered sticks with the rest.

Lily eyed the mountain of fuel and then studied him, but wisely said nothing. Instead, she offered him a full plate of supper. Jack took it and sat apart, staring at the water.

When he finished she took the plate and washed
it with the rest. He watched her arm move in a rhythmic sweep and noted the gentle sway of her hips as she leaned over the water. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to look away as she set everything back to rights. Then she hesitated, standing beside the fire between the boat and where he sat surly as a bear with an infected claw.

“I’m sorry, Jack.” Lily didn’t move from where she stood, just out of reach, yet near enough that he could smell her fragrant skin. He wanted to roll in that scent until it covered him.

“Go to bed, Lily.”
Please go to bed or I’ll not be responsible.
He’d never felt the blood-lust so strongly, not even when he was a green lad or when he’d thought himself in love with Nancy. Lily was different, her pull powerful as the moon changing the tides. His instincts told him that bedding her wouldn’t solve his dilemma, for he wanted more from her than a tumble. He tried to imagine a life with her—Lily in New York at a dinner party with the Sniders and winced. They wouldn’t accept her and he doubted she would accept them.

It wouldn’t work, no matter what he wanted. No matter how he pitched it in his mind, he knew that she wouldn’t fit in his world, which meant he needed to get her to Dawson and then say goodbye.

Lily stared at him, his arms bunched as he clasped his hands like a man striving to keep from taking
what he wanted. The thought of him holding her filled Lily with a simmering desire. She stared at his hands, imagining them cupping her breasts, kneading and stroking. Her body trembled as a sheen of moisture covered her skin. The breeze blew and the temperature dropped with the sun, but she did not feel the cold, for she was warm in the heat of her wanting.

It had been easier back at Lake Bennett, surrounded by thousands of men. The close quarters and complete lack of privacy acted to keep them apart. Jack had his work and she had hers. Now nothing separated them but her certainty that she could have Jack for a day, a week or a season, but never for a lifetime. But she feared that knowing this was not going to stop her from doing something that she would regret. She understood that he would leave her for some fancy white-gloved, New York debutante who had elegant speech and who could run his home in a way that would bring him comfort and pride. Lily’s stomach pitched as she imagined the welcome he’d receive if he were foolish enough to bring her home from the Yukon.

It was impossible for her to live a life with no regrets because no matter what she did with Jack, there would be regrets. The only question was which ones? Would she regret loving him and then saying goodbye, or would she regret missing the most mem
orable adventure of all by turning him away? Despite all her misgivings she wanted him.

A life worth living involved taking chances—did that include risking her heart?

They’d shoot White Horse Rapids tomorrow and there was more than a passing chance they’d drown and be buried in shallow nameless graves with the others. If she knew ahead of time that this would be her last night on earth, what would she do? Her eyes fell on Jack.

She didn’t know how it would all end, but she knew she would have him, at least once, for this was an adventure she could not miss, regardless of the danger.

“We’ve the rapids tomorrow,” she said.

He met her steady gaze and nodded, wondering where she was going with this.

“I want to be with you.”

“I’ll not put you ashore, Lily. You’re my partner for good and all.”

“That’s not what I mean. Tonight, I want to be more than your partner.”

He stood in a fluid motion that showed his grace and power. She followed him and met his stern stare with the slightest incline of her head.

He was beside her in an instant and holding her in his arms.

“Are you sure, Lily?”

In answer she lifted her chin and kissed him with
all the passion she had held hostage in her heart. How could she have ever thought that loving this man could shame her? It wouldn’t, not ever.

A rain of gentle kisses dropped along her neck, each one sending a shudder through her. His tongue caressed the outer shell of her ear, her knees grew weak and she swayed in his arms. She tilted her head to give him full access to her neck. He traveled its length until he found her willing mouth. Questing lips sought the soft comfort of her own. His mouth slanted across hers, rousing her until her skin burned with inner heat. He held her head, tilting her to accept his kisses as she pressed forward her hips, finding evidence of his need.

His nimble fingers danced over her coat, unfastening her buttons and then his own. He laid the garments on the ground for a bed and then waited for her there. She followed him as she had always followed him, coming to him there upon the wide grassy bank, allowing him to peel away her wrapping until she shivered in her chemise and drawers. His garments followed with none of the slow kisses. She had just a moment to look at him, naked and virile in the fire’s glow, his muscles taut, his skin golden and his male member jutting from a nest of dark curls. The sight sent a thrill of excitement through her middle. He retrieved the blanket and lay beside her, bringing the heavy robe up and over them both.