Free Her Wicked Captain: The River Rogues, Book 1 by Sandra Jones

standing behind her. His serious stare tracked her as he set her luggage on the floor.
    Dell put her gun on the bed. When she turned around, Rory stood near, his presence shrinking the room at least ten times smaller. “The river’s high and fast. You’ll only have to endure this berth for two days. Until then, Trap’s seeing to your friend. We’ll port at Chickasaw Landing tonight.” He surprised her by taking her hand in both of his and ran his thumb across her knuckles. Her heart made a back flip. “We’ll dine together later. I’d love to see your card skills in action first before Moreaux does. I’d like to see if I made a wise decision.”
    In action? No, she needed to make him understand. “I appreciate what you’ve done. I really do. But I’m not reading fortunes anymore. I’m leaving that behind me. I promised Mama I’d become more respectable than a card-turner. No offense intended, of course.” Heat rushed to her cheeks at her unintentional barb. His eyes narrowed. “I just mean as a woman wanting to become a teacher, I should stay away from cards. In fact, I left my mother’s favorite deck with Nathaniel.” The lie slipped out unbidden. He needn’t know the cards were safely tucked in a handkerchief in the valise he’d carried.
    His winsome expression returned. “In Posey Hollow, I could see how such a distinction—dabbling in the occult or gambling—might prove troublesome. However, on the waters of the Mississippi, I believe you’ll find we’re more at ease with ourselves, comfortable in our own skin and in our…vices.” He turned her hand over, sending ripples of pleasure up her arm as he caressed her exposed wrist. “You’ll not be judged by any means. In fact, you’ll see most men will revere your services. I know I would.” Mirth danced in his green eyes.
    Dell caught his bold double meaning and bristled at his audacity even as she gravitated toward him. Rory hinted at other occupations for her hands. A tawny lock of hair touched his long eyelashes, and she longed to sweep it aside, to trace his forehead with her fingertips, and stroke his beautiful lips with her thumb. She wasn’t a simpleton. Patrons had propositioned her before who wanted more than a fortune for their coins. Ephraim for one. She hadn’t kept her virginity to fall victim to a few sly smiles, no matter how fast they made her heart race.
    She pulled free of his touch before he could weave his seductive spell over her again as he had at the dance. “I’m sorry if you expected more. I never agreed to any other conditions, only to pay my stepfather a visit.”
    Hoping to avoid his heat-filled gaze, she turned around, but instead collided with his stare in the dresser mirror. In her reflection, she looked like a waif, hair coiled tight on her head, wearing a cheap dress, while he stood behind her in a white suit with a chipper cravat, a storybook prince—presently with a wicked-wolf grin.
    He put his hands on her shoulders, and she felt their gentle squeeze. “You have nothing to apologize for. I can see I’ve made you uncomfortable. I’ll leave you to rest.”
    Without waiting for another word from her, he slipped out and closed the door. The floor shuddered to life beneath her feet as the whistle whirred outside. Here we go. Any insult she might’ve felt for Rory’s assumptions about her morals and card reading evaporated on the sound of the boat pulling away from Posey Hollow. Sadness touched her heart that she might never see blood relations again in her life, but relief surpassed it—along with an inkling of unease—as she headed toward the unknown and an uncertain future.
    If only she could predict what would happen…
    She touched the bed. It was much softer than the one she’d slept on with Sarah all these years. Her hand fanned over the bed’s coverlet with longing. She hadn’t slept the night before, after digging up Ephraim’s money and waiting on Rory to arrange for the sale of Jeremiah.