Alanna (When Hearts Dare Series Book 2) by Kathleen Bittner Roth Page A
Authors: Kathleen Bittner Roth
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pursuit of the baubles while the little maid scurried behind the men.
Alanna bit her tongue to keep from laughing outright. She remained seated while her mother heaved herself off the chair and stood ramrod straight, her cheeks flaming. Sailors joined in, shouting at one another and chasing the beads and glittering crystals, more for sport than out of courtesy. Wolf and the captain were making a game of the melee as well.
And what could her mother do about it? Alanna sat back in her chair, her hands folded calmly in her lap, glowing with pure amusement. She’d needed a little spice added to her day.
Her mother openly seethed, her mouth a white slit. Wolf was the first to return to where she stood. With one hand cupped under hers, he rained a measure of beads into her plump palm, and then bent his head to examine them, poking gently about in the small mound with one finger. Alanna remembered the clean scent of his hair, the firmness of his fingers, and she moved to stand. Her mother’s lips retracted even further and she shot Alanna a glowering warning not to become involved.
Alanna sat back down, amused by the spectacle.
“These are very pretty, Mrs. Malone.” Wolf gave her mother a devastating grin. “I promise we’ll not let a one slip overboard. May I ask what you intend them for?”
Her mother sputtered. No matter what Wolf did to offend, she had yet to find reason to object without appearing the fool. Alanna knew her mother well enough to know that as far as she was concerned, this brash man would be faulted for the entire incident—although by now Alanna was pretty certain her mother was becoming mightily confused as to what actually had transpired.
The others—the captain, crew, and servant—hovered around her mother with what they’d managed to retrieve. Alanna gathered the bead bag from the chair and stood, held it in midair, and waited for her mother to notice.
Her mother snatched the pouch from Alanna, and after dropping her supply into it, she held it open for everyone to make their deposits. Wolf returned to the hunt while most of the crew dispersed.
By the time he returned, her mother had gathered her things in a great huff and made motions to leave. He stretched his closed fist out to her, but she turned her back to him, and with a flip of her head, said to Alanna, “Come. Enough of this folly.”
Wolf ignored her mother’s rude gesture, and turned to Alanna, his face filled with a sudden—and secret—expression.
Her heart thudded. She stood to leave.
Wolf appraised her from head to toe. “You look . . . ah . . . invigorated. Your exercise period must do wonders for you.”
The lusty mischief in his eyes compounded the quickening in her belly. When she’d spied him back in San Francisco, something had shot right through her, but it hadn’t been a sexual thing at the time. It had been a kind of power in him that mesmerized her. When had things changed?
She still saw him as perfect for what she needed, but now something else tugged at her. She wanted him in a far different way. She’d like to reach over and lick the side of his face and taste him. She fought an urge to set her mouth to his and draw from him—she didn’t know what.
In silence, she turned on her heel and left him before he realized what he did to her insides.
Wolf sat alone in the stateroom, his legs stretched out, his booted feet parked on the upper edge of the darkened fireplace’s coal scuttle. A beveled glass half filled with whiskey rested on a table beside him, along with a small bag that had once held ginger tea. He amused himself with the contents—a cache of beads and sequins he’d inherited from the rollicking sport on deck. He pored over them with the captain’s magnifying glass, lost amid the fascinating optical illusions, rich textures, brilliant colors, and amplified surfaces, when a sharp rap sounded on the stateroom door.
“Do they have woodpeckers this far out to sea?” he hollered,
Alanna bit her tongue to keep from laughing outright. She remained seated while her mother heaved herself off the chair and stood ramrod straight, her cheeks flaming. Sailors joined in, shouting at one another and chasing the beads and glittering crystals, more for sport than out of courtesy. Wolf and the captain were making a game of the melee as well.
And what could her mother do about it? Alanna sat back in her chair, her hands folded calmly in her lap, glowing with pure amusement. She’d needed a little spice added to her day.
Her mother openly seethed, her mouth a white slit. Wolf was the first to return to where she stood. With one hand cupped under hers, he rained a measure of beads into her plump palm, and then bent his head to examine them, poking gently about in the small mound with one finger. Alanna remembered the clean scent of his hair, the firmness of his fingers, and she moved to stand. Her mother’s lips retracted even further and she shot Alanna a glowering warning not to become involved.
Alanna sat back down, amused by the spectacle.
“These are very pretty, Mrs. Malone.” Wolf gave her mother a devastating grin. “I promise we’ll not let a one slip overboard. May I ask what you intend them for?”
Her mother sputtered. No matter what Wolf did to offend, she had yet to find reason to object without appearing the fool. Alanna knew her mother well enough to know that as far as she was concerned, this brash man would be faulted for the entire incident—although by now Alanna was pretty certain her mother was becoming mightily confused as to what actually had transpired.
The others—the captain, crew, and servant—hovered around her mother with what they’d managed to retrieve. Alanna gathered the bead bag from the chair and stood, held it in midair, and waited for her mother to notice.
Her mother snatched the pouch from Alanna, and after dropping her supply into it, she held it open for everyone to make their deposits. Wolf returned to the hunt while most of the crew dispersed.
By the time he returned, her mother had gathered her things in a great huff and made motions to leave. He stretched his closed fist out to her, but she turned her back to him, and with a flip of her head, said to Alanna, “Come. Enough of this folly.”
Wolf ignored her mother’s rude gesture, and turned to Alanna, his face filled with a sudden—and secret—expression.
Her heart thudded. She stood to leave.
Wolf appraised her from head to toe. “You look . . . ah . . . invigorated. Your exercise period must do wonders for you.”
The lusty mischief in his eyes compounded the quickening in her belly. When she’d spied him back in San Francisco, something had shot right through her, but it hadn’t been a sexual thing at the time. It had been a kind of power in him that mesmerized her. When had things changed?
She still saw him as perfect for what she needed, but now something else tugged at her. She wanted him in a far different way. She’d like to reach over and lick the side of his face and taste him. She fought an urge to set her mouth to his and draw from him—she didn’t know what.
In silence, she turned on her heel and left him before he realized what he did to her insides.
Wolf sat alone in the stateroom, his legs stretched out, his booted feet parked on the upper edge of the darkened fireplace’s coal scuttle. A beveled glass half filled with whiskey rested on a table beside him, along with a small bag that had once held ginger tea. He amused himself with the contents—a cache of beads and sequins he’d inherited from the rollicking sport on deck. He pored over them with the captain’s magnifying glass, lost amid the fascinating optical illusions, rich textures, brilliant colors, and amplified surfaces, when a sharp rap sounded on the stateroom door.
“Do they have woodpeckers this far out to sea?” he hollered,
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