Payton's Woman (7 page)

“It’s the latest
fashion.” She helped Julia into the spring steel cage held together with white
linen tapes. “The front and sides lay flatter to the body while the fullness is
over the backside.”

A thin, white petticoat
went over the top of the crinoline before she slipped the rose colored gown
over Julia’s head and smoothed the skirt down the steel-framed foundation.

“It’s not her backside
that needs to be built up.” Sylvia walked around her for a better view while
the dressmaker fastened the hooks in the back. “You need to cinch up the corset
so her breasts pop up in the front.”

“No.” Julia put her
hands to her bosom. “I don’t want anything spilling out of this dress.”

“I don’t know why you
have to be so particular. You’re not the one paying for the gowns.”

“True, but I am the one
who has to wear them. I refuse to wear anything that’s too revealing.”

“You didn’t seem to mind
that last gown. That is, not until the boy delivered it to the house.” She had
a perplexed look on her face. “I was here at Madame Russo’s the first time you
tried on that sapphire-blue gown. I remember your expression when you looked at
yourself in the mirror. You seemed quite delighted with the cut of the gown.”

She had been pleased
with the gown. The daring plunge of the bodice had done the trick with Wilber
Hennigan, but she couldn’t admit that to Sylvia.

“It was the color of the
gown that pleased me,” she said as she searched for a plausible excuse. “I’ve
always been fond of that shade of blue. I didn’t notice how exposed my bosom was
until I put it on later at the house. It must have been the different lighting.”

“You shouldn’t lie. You’re
not very good at it. I can see the guilty look written all over your face.”

“What do you mean?” She
brushed her hand over her face as if to wipe away the guilt.

“I mean, you knew
exactly how low the gown was cut, and you were thrilled. Then later, you must
have gotten a guilty conscience. That’s probably why you refused to wear it.” She
surveyed the front of Julia’s gown. “I’m certain that’s why you’re
overcompensating with this gown. It doesn’t appear as though you have any breasts
at all.”

“I wish that were the
case.” She tugged at the bodice to hide more of her bosom. The cut of the gown showed
only the beginning swell of her breast, but the front dipped at the very
center, revealing the shadow of her cleavage. “If there was nothing to look at,
it would discourage men from trying to peer down the front of my gown.”

“No, Mademoiselle,”
Madame Russo said to stop her from pulling at the gown. She adjusted the short
sleeves so they draped off her shoulders. “The sleeves go like this.”

“But I don’t like them
like that.”

“I agree,” Sylvia said. “Her
shoulders are much too square to be exposed. And the bodice makes her breasts look
too small. That crinoline is so straight up and down on the sides that it makes
her look even taller. Honestly, Julia. You look more like a tall, thin boy.”

“Oh, no.” Madame Russo
threw her hands in the air. “Mademoiselle could never be mistaken for a boy. She
has a marvelous body, just perfect for any gown she wears. And even if her bosom
is not showing, it is obvious she has lovely breasts.”

“Please.” Heat flushed into
her cheeks. “Can we just get on with the fitting? All I want is a modest gown
so I don’t attract any attention.”

Sylvia and Madame Russo
looked at each other. They both let out a heavy sigh, but it was Madame Russo who
expressed her opinion out loud.

“Mademoiselle, nothing
you could ever wear would prevent you from being unnoticed.”

Chapter Six

Payton forced his index finger
between the snug fitting collar and his cleanly shaven neck as he gazed around
the room. A tailor had done a hasty job of fitting him for evening attire
before he’d left San Francisco. The man had practically begged Payton to give
him more time to make sure it fit properly, but he’d been in a hurry to leave. Once
he’d realized Miss Sally Smith had lied, played him for a fool, and then ran
off, probably to Sacramento, he’d been anxious to follow.

He almost laughed out loud
at his own stupidity. The astute Mr. Stover would never have been so gullible
as to believe Smith was her real name. Payton wanted to find her, but that
seemed an impossible task. He had little information to go on other than she’d
been with Wilber Hennigan when he died. He didn’t know her true name, where she
disappeared to, or even if she would be in Sacramento.

At times, he doubted she
existed at all. In his mind he would reach for her, but she’d slip though his
fingers like a mist. Perhaps he’d only imagined the beautiful angel who’d
appeared out of the smoke and fog. She seemed to be as elusive as a mermaid
riding on the waves just beyond his grasp.

His eyes closed as he pictured
her in his mind. Her hair had felt like silk. Her bare skin had been warm and smooth.
Her lips were soft, her hand gentle against his naked chest. And her kisses...

He opened his eyes and
shook his head while attempting to push images of her from his mind. Thoughts
of her heated his blood and made his body stiffen. He took a deep breath and
released it slowly, hoping to calm his aroused state.

“Tyler, my boy.” A slap
on the back accompanied the salutation. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Payton turned to face
the man who had procured him an invitation to this party. “It’s a very lavish
affair. Good food.” He held up his glass. “Excellent champagne.”

Gerald Baxter leaned
closer and lowered his voice. “Dunbar’s mother arrived here a while ago, but I
haven’t seen her. And I haven’t learned anything new about her, or her son.”

“Neither have I.” He
took a sip of champagne. “I tossed around a lot of money at the poker table,
but no one seemed eager to talk about them. Evidently, Betsy Collins and Lawrence
Dunbar aren’t popular topics in Sacramento. I didn’t want to press too hard—not
yet anyway.”

“Once he turns up in
California, there’ll be plenty of gossip about him. A man like Dunbar won’t be
content lurking in the shadows. He likes living high and spending money.”

“That’ll be difficult to
do. From the information I gathered, Hennigan had the bulk of the money hidden
away somewhere.”

“Dunbar’s mother may be
the only person who can help him now that his partner is dead. She’ll lead you
to him, one way or another, but you may have a long wait.” Baxter’s bushy gray
eyebrows furrowed together. “What about command of your ship? How much time off
will the steamship company allow you to take?”

“I had to give up the
coastal run, but once I’ve finished with the business here, they’ll give me
command of another ship. It runs out of San Francisco and goes to Hong Kong and
Japan.”

“Let’s hope the wait isn’t
too long.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll
find him no matter how long it takes,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “I’m
a man of patience.”

“I know you are, but you’re
also a young man. This party shouldn’t be all work.” His smiled returned, and his
voice rose to its normal level. “You should be dancing. There are some very
attractive young ladies here tonight. If you see one that strikes your fancy, I’d
be more than happy to make the introduction.”

“I’ll be sure to let you
know.” He glanced around at the females in the room. After the angel he’d met a
week ago, no other woman appealed to him.

Suddenly, he shoved his
champagne glass onto Baxter. “Will you hold this for me?”

“What is it, Tyler? You
look like you’ve seen the Devil himself.”

“Just the opposite.” His
lips curved into a smile. “I think I’ve just seen an angel.”

As Payton edged his way
toward the young woman who’d captivated his soul several nights earlier, he noticed
a subtle difference about her. She looked calm, serene, almost aloof, but he
knew the woman standing on the far side of the room was his angel.

She wore her honey-blonde
hair gathered up into an elaborate coil. Spiral curls cascaded down her back. Those
incredible eyes of hers sparkled with reflected light from the crystal
chandeliers. Her mouth, with the soft little peaks, glistened with a natural
blush that closely matched her rose colored gown.

With something that felt
like possessiveness, it pleased him that her gown wasn’t cut too low. The demure
bodice denied the other men an immodest view of her breasts, but the short
sleeves draped off her shoulders and displayed a wide expanse of creamy white
skin.

****

Sylvia Morgan raised her
champagne glass to her mouth in an effort to cover her lips when she spoke. “Julia
darling, don’t look now, but there is a very tall, very magnificent looking
gentleman walking directly toward us. Do you happen to know him?”

Slowly, she turned in
that direction so her movement appeared casual. Several tall men milled around the
room, but she immediately spotted the one to whom Sylvia referred.

“No, I don’t believe I
know him,” she said, but a fluttering sensation stirred in the pit of her
stomach.

Although she didn’t
recognize him, something about the man approaching them made her instinctively
cautious. He had a predatory look. Definitely carnivorous. And she felt as
though he intended her to be his next meal. He stared directly at her as he wove
his way through the couples on the dance floor.

He stopped in front of her.
The gaze from his brilliant blue eyes wandered over her body. “You’re even more
beautiful than I remembered.”

Her cheeks warmed at the
compliment. Men often remarked on her beauty, but she wasn’t prepared for the sincerity
reflected in this one’s eyes. Nor his blatant hunger.

The brilliance of his
blue eyes seemed to give off a warmth. The heat from his gaze transferred to
her body. A shiver rippled through her. She tried to suppress the feelings this
stranger stirred within her and force some calmness into her outward
appearance.

One eyebrow arched in question.
“I believe you have me at a disadvantage, sir.”

He stroked his fingers
through his short, neatly trimmed hair. “I suppose I do look a little different
than the last time we met. And we weren’t properly introduced. Allow me to do
so now. Payton Tyler at your service. Your slightest wish is my command.” He
made a slight bow.

“My, that certainly
brings some rather fascinating thoughts to mind.” Sylvia’s voice took on a lusty
quality. “I like a man who is eager to please.”

She held out her hand. “I’m
Mrs. Sylvia Morgan.”

Politely, he took her
outstretched hand and nodded over it.

“And this...” She
flipped her hand in the direction of Julia when he released it. “This is Miss
Julia Anderson. But then you apparently already know her.”

“Julia?” He stopped in
the act of lifting her hand to his mouth. He peeled back the edge of the rose colored
silk glove and exposed the skin on the back of her hand. “The name suits you. I
think I’ll call you that instead of Angel,” he said just before pressing his
lips to her naked hand.

His name for her, along
with the brilliant color of his blue eyes, jolted her memory. She felt like she’d
just been splashed with ice cold water. Her hand jerked away in shock.

“I’m sorry,” he said,
but he didn’t look the least bit sorry. “Did I perhaps bite you by mistake?”

“How exciting,” Sylvia
murmured. “You barely know the man, and yet he’s already nibbling on you.”

“No, he didn’t...you
didn’t...” she stammered while trying to regain her composure. She took a long,
deep breath and released it with a shudder. “I believe you were going to ask me
to dance.”

“I believe I was.” He
held out his arm.

As they stepped into the
midst of the other dancers, he took her hand. His other arm slipped around her
waist. “You seem surprised at seeing me again.”

Surprised hardly
described her shock. She almost laughed out loud, but stifled the urge and
responded in a neutral tone. “It’s just that you look different with your hair
short and no beard.”

“Actually, I feel rather
naked without so much hair.”

Heat crept into her body
at the thought of him in that condition. Many times this last week, her mind
had conjured up visions of how he looked without his clothes. Now that he held
her in his arms, her imagination ran unchecked.

Beneath his white shirt,
her mind’s eye saw the dark hair swirled across his bared chest. She also envisioned
the rest of his body which she’d never seen. His arms, his legs, even his back
would be hard, lean, and muscular.

“At least you don’t look
like a pirate anymore,” she said in an attempt to change the images popping
into her mind.

“Is that what you
thought of me the other night in the tavern?” He threw back his head in
laughter.

Nervously, she glanced
around the room. Several people watched them, including Sylvia. She tried to
move Payton to the far side of the dancing area.

“Would you like to lead?”
he quipped as she maneuvered him backwards.

“I need to ask you for a
favor,” she said in a hushed voice. “Mrs. Morgan must not know I was in San
Francisco. Nor anyone else for that matter.”

His dark eyebrows rose,
as if shocked by her request. “You’re asking me, a man of honor and decency, to
lie to your friend.”

Her lips twisted
together as she studied him. Although she didn’t know him well, she doubted
anything could fluster him. From his attitude, she guessed he intended to be
difficult. “It’s very important that no one knows I was there that night.”

“And why is that?” he
asked in an innocent tone.

“It’s a little
complicated. Can I rely upon you not to say anything?” She held her breath and
waited for his answer.