“Fiend seize it!”
This time he swore out loud as he struggled to tame his body’s fierce, frustrating urges.
Startled, Selena glanced up at him. She was quite aware of the half-savage vibrations emanating from the powerful man beside her, though she wasn’t sure of the reason for them.
Summoning a false calmness, she tried to soothe the tense undercurrents radiating between them by asking how long the journey to Natchez would take.
Kyle took a deep, shuddering breath. “With a moderate head of steam,” he said at last, getting hold of himself, “and barring any unforeseen circumstances, four days. It’s nearly three hundred miles, and the Washington will be doing its own wooding.”
“Wooding?”
“Cutting and gathering fuel. And I expect we’ll be stopping frequently for passengers and to unload freight.”
Selena fell silent then, gazing down at the wide Mississippi. But the tension between them only seemed to grow. What was he thinking about? she wondered. His beautiful, red-haired mistress? And then another thought struck her. Was it possible that her own coldness had driven him into Veronique’s arms?
An ache lodged in her chest. Perhaps it was her fault. Kyle had called her cold and unresponsive. But how else could she have behaved toward him? She had been raised a lady, taught to exhibit restraint and proper decorum, even in the most trying of circumstances. And her upbringing made it impossible to be other than cool and polite when she was upset. Indeed, she had cultivated such a talent as self-protection against her waspish stepmother. But Kyle would never understand that.
Bleakly, Selena glanced up at him again. He seemed so distant. She longed to recapture the intimacy that had been between them the night of the storm. She wished they could share their thoughts and aspirations and truly talk together, instead of relying on the politely constrained words that
usually passed for conversation between them. If only he would show her even the kind of teasing humor he had shown his crew.
Selena bit her lip as she gazed at Kyle. She truly was in love with him. Why else would she be experiencing this painful yearning that was equal parts giving and fear and want? She was finding it harder and harder to retreat into cool reserve when she was near him, especially when memories of his caresses, hot and wild and sweet, kept swirling around in her mind.
She was still reflecting on the tenderness of Kyle’s lovemaking when a clanging bell made her jump. Kyle reached out to steady her, and Selena tensed at his touch.
Abruptly, he released her arm. “Why do you flinch, Moonwitch? I seem to recall a night not so long ago you welcomed my touch.”
So he did remember that night, she thought. He had seemed to be able to dismiss it entirely. She couldn’t, though. When he touched her as he had just now, it made her recall aspects of that night in vivid detail: his warm, hard mouth and the feel of his hands, the rhythm of his sleek, heavy body as he moved against her.
Discomfited, Selena moved a step away, chastising herself for allowing her thoughts to suggest what her body wanted to experience again. “Everything about that night was a mistake,” she said stiffly.
“Oh, come now, you enjoyed it.”
She slanted a glance up at him. “How can you be so sure?”
Kyle rested a hip against the rail and crossed his arms over his muscular chest. Leaning against the column at his back, he surveyed her dispassionately. “I know when a woman is feigning passion and when she’s not. And you—” his glance traveled down her body, assessing her with a detachment that was almost an insult “—my dear wife, most definitely were not.”
Selena looked away. If he knew that, why had he called her cold? She suddenly felt a wild urge to prove she wasn’t as unresponsive as he said. But she fiercely clamped it down.
“I could make you want me.”
The sudden, quiet emotion in his voice startled her. It was a challenge, softly said, and his words possessed a husky resonance that quivered down her spine. Selena found herself clenching her hands to keep herself from trembling.
“I think I will return to my cabin, after all,” she managed tightly, her back going rigid at the resulting sardonic smile that curved Kyle’s lips.
She took his arm only because courtesy dictated it, trying to ignore the solid play of muscle under her fingers as he escorted her through the common room to the door that led to the private cabins. The corridor was lighted by a single wall sconce and was fortunately too narrow to accommodate two people. Selena was able to release Kyle’s arm as soon as they entered.
“Would you like me to come in?” he asked when they reached her cabin door.
Her back still rigid, Selena glanced up at Kyle. In the lamplight, the amber gleam in his eyes was like rich brandy.
“I don’t have need of your services,” she replied with flawless enunciation. “I can see to my own clothing.”
“That wasn’t,” Kyle murmured, moving closer, “the only service I had in mind.” Placing a hand against the bulwark, he effectively barred her from entering her cabin.
He towered over her, his overpowering physical presence so close that Selena felt dizzy. “I can manage without you,” she said breathlessly.
Kyle didn’t seem to hear. He leaned into her, pressing his body lightly against hers, making her feel his arousal. The hardness and detail of him made Selena’s cheeks go crimson.