Silver made no answer.
He stood very still, looking at her, then he turned and strode toward the door and threw it open. His voice held a note of barely restrained savagery. “I have no liking for women who pretend to be what they are not.” His glance over his shoulder was a burning sword thrust. “You’re no prim schoolgirl, and the only reason you let me undress you was because you wanted my hands on you. You wanted me, dammit!” The door slammed behind him with a force that shook the crystal prisms on the rim of the lamp on the bedside table.
Silver gazed at the panels of the door for a long moment. He had been so angry. Why couldn’t she summon a like anger to use against him? Her body still ached with hunger and emptiness. She closed her eyes, a shiver of yearning rippling through her. Nicholas could have filled her body and stopped the aching. Had he spoken the truth? Had she allowed him to undress her not because she wanted to meet his challenge but because she desired him? She must stop thinking of him. He cared nothing for her. He was the enemy. Tomorrow evening she would escape this boat and never see Nicholas again.
An unexplainable thrust of pain pierced through her. No, she thought in sudden panic. She would feel nothing for him. Not lust, certainly not love. Nothing.
It was a litany she repeated over and over to herself as if saying the rosary as she finished undressing and turned out the lamp. A litany she continued to murmur as she lay in the darkness for the many sleepless hours that followed.
Nothing. She must feel nothing for Nicholas.
A yellow satin gown was delivered to the stateroom by Valentin shortly before six the next evening.
He stood in the doorway, the brilliantly colored garment draped over his arm, a pair of yellow satin slippers in his hand, and a faintly apologetic smile on his lips. “Nicky sent these. He thought you’d be a trifle more comfortable at the dinner table tonight wearing something more appropriate.”
“I’m not surprised he feels a whore’s gown more fitting for me.” Silver’s face was without expression as she took the items from Valentin and tossed them carelessly onto the padded velvet bench. “I’m to join all of you for dinner again? I’m amazed Nicholas wants to chance my presence. I’ve not seen anyone but Mikhail all day, and he vanished as soon as he delivered my breakfast and lunch.”
Valentin made a face. “Nicky decided you needed time to ponder and told us we weren’t to approach you.”
And a very clever move it had been, Silver thought. She had nearly gone mad confined to this room all day with nothing to do and nothing to think about besides Nicholas Savron and her response to him last night. She had paced the floor, trying to incite herself to an anger that would submerge the tumult of feeling she was experiencing. Anger had not come until now. She felt it sear through her in a furious tide as she gazed at the yellow gown. By all that was holy, now it was a silken gown! Damn Nicholas and his crystal chandeliers, soft velvets, and fine damask tablecloths. How easy life was for him. When she thought of the comparison between his life and Etaine’s, she wanted to take a tomahawk to that arrogant golden head. Etaine struggling desperately for breath; Etaine forced every night into that hellish cage. And now Nicholas’s actions were making life even harder for Etaine by preventing her, Silver, from being close enough to help when needed. “How kind of him to decide to permit the poor prisoner a brief respite.”
Valentin was clearly troubled. “Tell him what he wants to know, Silver. Nicholas can be very difficult. You’re going to get hurt.”
“You think that if I tell him where Dominic can be found it will be over?” Silver shook her head. “You aren’t such a fool. There is more between us than that.”
“I suppose you’re right. But don’t be so—” He broke off and turned to go. “It’s no use talking to you any more than it is to Nicky. I’ll be back for you at eight.” He looked over his shoulder. “Wear the gown, Silver. Nick was adamant about his wishes on that score. He said he was weary of gazing at a frumpy schoolgirl at his table; he prefers you to look more womanly.”
The anger Silver was feeling suddenly flamed higher. The damnable arrogance of the man! “Oh, does he?”
Valentin sighed. “Hellfire! I knew …” He was still shaking his head as the door closed behind him.
Silver’s gaze swung from the door to the gleaming heap of yellow satin on the bench. She was tempted to send word to Nicholas that she would not only not wear the gown, she would not join them for dinner. Yet she knew she couldn’t do that if her attempt to escape was to be successful. She must be out of this cabin and on deck early this evening when the Rose veered toward shore.
She walked quickly to the window to look at the western bank. Surely it was already a little closer. Robert was beginning to change course to avoid the sandbars downriver. Excitement and anticipation warred with the anger surging through her. Soon she would no longer be a helpless prisoner.
She turned and glared fiercely at the gown again. She would not give Nicholas the satisfaction of meekly obeying his orders. This was the last time he would see her, and she was determined that their final encounter wouldn’t be one he would remember with triumph.
But Nicholas was no fool and there was no way that she could think to do both. She quickly thought through the possibilities but came up with no answer. Surely there must be some weakness she could play on. Possessiveness? Valentin had said Nicholas was very possessive of her and she had noticed signs of that quality in him herself. Perhaps there would be some way to use that fault to accomplish her own ends.
Her gaze shifted abstractedly from the gown on the bench to the bed. There had to be something … She froze, her eyes widening, and then threw back her head and began to laugh in sheer delight.
That was it! She had it!
Valentin looked at her warily. “You won’t need that cloak. The saloon is quite comfortable tonight.”
“I felt chilled.” Silver drew her dark blue cloak still closer about her. “I’m ready to go.”
“Does the gown fit? Mikhail said you sent for a needle and thread.”
“It does now.” She held out her foot to reveal the dainty yellow slippers with matching ribbons crisscrossing at the ankle. “And the shoes fit well too.”
“I see that they do.” Valentin opened the door and then hesitated. Silver was glowing, blazing with vitality and an excitement that made him vaguely apprehensive. “I’m glad you took my advice.”
Silver sailed through the doorway, smiling sweetly at him as she passed. “I think you’ll agree that I’ve tried very hard to obey Nicholas’s command. May I have your arm?” Her gaze went to the far end of the saloon. The scene was much the same as last night: Nicholas at the head of the table, the musicians, the hovering servants, and chatting guests. She glanced at Valentin as she slipped her arm through his and started the long promenade to the far end of the saloon. “Do you suppose he’ll seat me next to Mr. Bassinger again?”
“It’s not likely,” Valentin said dryly.
“Then why don’t you take me to the head of the table at once so that Nicholas can make his decision about which of these gracious individuals he wishes me to get to know this evening?” Silver asked softly. “It will save time.”
Valentin looked at her suspiciously. “Silver—”
“Hush, Valentin.” Silver didn’t look at him, her gaze on Nicholas. He had just caught sight of her and he straightened in his chair, his gaze raking over her slim form completely enveloped in the blue cloak. “It’s too late now anyway. Take me to him.”
“What the devil are you up to?” Valentin muttered.
She didn’t bother to answer. They were only a few yards from Nicholas now and Valentin would find out soon enough.
She stopped beside Nicholas’s chair and curtsied deeply. “Good evening, your highness.”
The chatter of the guests suddenly dwindled and then ceased entirely as everyone’s attention became centered at the head of the table.
Nicholas’s gaze flicked over her once again,
a smile of satisfaction touching his lips as he saw the yellow satin slippers peeping from beneath the hem of her cloak. “Take off your cloak, it’s quite warm in here. I want to see how you look in something besides that uniform.” He smiled lazily. “I thought yellow would quite wonderfully complement your hair.”
She smiled back at him. “I’ve always been fond of yellow. We Indians adore bright colors, you know.” She shook her head sadly. “Unfortunately, the gown didn’t fit as well as I would have liked.”
He stiffened. “You’re not wearing it?”
“No, but I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.” She smiled brilliantly as her hand reached for the button at her throat. “I believe you told Valentin you wished me to look more womanly.” With one swift gesture she slipped the cloak from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. “Now, what could be more womanly than the woman herself.”
“Oh, my God,” Valentin murmured, closing his eyes. “It’s the bed curtain.” Then he yielded to temptation and looked again.
The sheer white batiste had been fashioned into a simple loose Grecian tunic, leaving one shoulder bare and falling straight to the floor. Silver’s smooth golden skin, taut pink nipples, all the secret places of her body, were only lightly veiled and could be seen in all their ravishing loveliness. She looked as wildly beautiful and shockingly desirable as a high priestess in the temple of Aphrodite.
“Don’t just stand there. Put that goddamn cloak around her!” Nicholas’s harsh voice pulled Valentin’s gaze from Silver to Nicholas’s face.
He inhaled sharply and hurriedly picked up Silver’s cloak from the floor. Christ, he’d never seen Nicky look like that. White-hot jealousy, anger, and desire blazed from him in waves that were nearly tangible. “I’ll take her back to the stateroom, Nicky.” He took a step toward Silver, intending to put the cloak around her.
She had no intention of letting him accomplish his aim. She backed away from the table, her gaze still holding Nicholas’s with defiance. “You don’t look pleased, Nicholas. Why is that? I certainly don’t look like a frumpy schoolgirl.”
“Damn you,” Nicholas said with soft violence. “Put that cloak on!”
She shook her head, a reckless smile on her face as she continued to back away. “I’m not uncomfortable like this. I’m Apache, remember?”
Nicholas stood up so suddenly that his chair crashed to the floor behind him. “Then, by God, you’d better learn to behave like a white woman. I won’t have you stripping yourself for every man to gape at like some—” He broke off, his chest rising and falling with the force of his breathing. “Put on that cloak or I swear you’ll regret it, Silver.”
She laughed, the sound rising to ring around the white and gold of the ceiling. “You cannot make me regret anything. You are nothing to me, your highness.”
Then she was gone, flying down the length of the saloon toward the door leading to the deck, her straight dark hair streaming behind her in a wild, shining banner. She heard Nicholas call her name, but she ignored it. Fierce joy was surging through her veins. She had done it! She had bested Nicholas and now she would complete her plan.
Cool night air struck her hot cheeks as she rushed out on deck and ran toward the stairway leading to the boiler deck. She glanced over her shoulder. Nicholas and Valentin had just emerged from the saloon and were running after her.
She should take off the slippers, but there was no time. She glanced over the rail at the shore that was scarcely forty yards away. She had reached the boiler deck, but she couldn’t jump here. It was too close to the paddle wheel. She streaked across the deck, climbed up on the rail, and then slipped onto the narrow ledge hanging over the water.
“Silver!” Nicholas shouted.
She glanced back over her shoulder. His face was pale in the moonlight. Strange, he didn’t look angry now as he ran toward her. If she didn’t know better, she would swear his expression reflected panic.
“Good-bye, Nicholas.” She waved mockingly and then dove into the waters of the Mississippi.
The river was cold and for a moment she lost her breath and felt frightened. Then she struck out with swift strong strokes toward the shadowy bank.
“You’re going after her?” Valentin asked as he watched Nicholas jerk off his boots and toss them aside.
“You’re damn right I’m going after her.” Nicholas flung off his coat and threw it on top of his boots. “If she makes it to shore, she’ll disappear before we can launch a boat and get to the bank.”
If. The qualifier caused an icy chill to chase through him. Silver appeared to be swimming with exceptional strength, but he had heard there were many dangers lurking in the river. Whirlpools, currents … He climbed over the rail, his gaze searching the water. Now that she had left the glowing perimeter of the riverboat’s lanterns, he could no longer see her. Where the devil was she? Then he saw a gleam of moonlight shining on a seal-wet head and felt a relief so intense it made him dizzy.
He balanced on the ledge, keeping his gaze fixed desperately on Silver. “Tell Robert to wait until dawn to send a rescue party after us. We don’t want any more people than necessary blundering around lost in that damn forest.” He dove into the river and struck out after Silver, cleaving the water with powerful strokes. His heart was pounding with fear as his eyes strained in the darkness. Incredibly, he found himself muttering a prayer beneath his breath.
She was almost to the bank. Relief coursed through her, revitalizing her tired muscles. Another fifteen yards and she would be safe. She wanted to hurry, to strike out with greater speed, but she knew she must hoard her strength.
She swam steadily, drawing closer, closer still. Soon she would be there. Stroke, breathe deeply, another stroke, breathe deeply, str—
Blackness! A gnarled, scaly monster bearing down on her!
There were no river monsters, she thought wildly, no monsters here.
The monster struck! She gasped as an avalanche of pain tumbled through her head. Dizziness. Pain. Blackness. She must keep moving. But she couldn’t remember what to do, how to move her arms. Panic ripped through her. She was going to die. She was going to be with Rising Star. Oh, God, she didn’t want to die!
“No!” Her arms began to thrash wildly. She wanted to live. There was something wonderful waiting for her. Something that was meant to be … Someone …
The blackness returned and she fought against it. She wouldn’t die. She was strong. She wouldn’t be destroyed when that wonder was waiting for her.
Then the blackness deepened and the waters of the river closed over her head. She sank slowly downward, a silent scream of protest resounding through every cell of her being. Nicholas!
Nicholas’s face was intent in the firelight, a slight frown knitting his brow. His golden hair was touseled and a little damp and he was wearing no shirt. That was strange, she thought vaguely. She had never seen Nicholas when he was not faultlessly dressed. “Where’s your shirt?”
His eyes flew up to meet hers and relief flooded his face. “I’m sorry to appear with such a shocking lack of decorum, but I thought you needed it more than I did,” he said lightly. “Your gown may have been eye-catching, but it gave you little protection from the elements.”
She looked down at herself in surprise. She was wearing his shirt. The linen of his white shirt was no longer crisp, but wilted and slightly damp. She was barefoot and she could see the yellow slippers she had worn lying watersoaked and ruined on the bank a few yards away. “Why are we wet?”
His smile faded. “Don’t you remember?”
She tried to think. Something wonderful waiting for her. Someone … She suddenly sat bolt upright. “The monster!”
“Lie back down,” Nicholas said, trying to push her onto the bed of moss and leaves. “There was no monster.”
“There was.” She dazedly lifted her hand to her head. “I saw it. Black and scaly and—”
“It was a log being carried by the current,” Nicholas said. “No monster. I
t struck you a glancing blow on the head and stunned you.” His lips tightened grimly. “But it was enough to have drowned you if I hadn’t been a few yards behind.”
“I thought I was dying.” She suddenly began to shiver. “I was dying. I was so afraid.” Her voice held a note of wonder. “I don’t think I’ve ever been afraid before. I thought my heart was bursting and I couldn’t breathe and—”
“Hush.” Nicholas’s arms were suddenly around her, rocking her as if she were a dearly loved child. “Don’t think about it. It’s over now.”
“No.” Her words were muffled in the warm flesh of his shoulder. “I thought I was strong enough to win over anything. But I wasn’t.” The shiver had evolved into shudders that racked her slim frame. “I was so frightened.”
Nicholas suffered a poignant ache deep within him. God, she was young. How long ago it had been since he had believed he had the strength to win every battle, vanquish every foe, even one as powerful as death itself. “It’s all right to be frightened. No one expects a wo—” He stopped. This was not a comfort Silver would be able to accept. His hand gently stroked the silky dark hair at her temple. “No one is strong every moment of every day. Everyone is afraid at some time in his life.”
“You?”
“Oh, yes, many times.”
She began to relax, the shivering gradually ebbing. “Truly?”
He chuckled. “Truly.”
She lifted her head to look more directly at his face. “Why are you being so kind to me?” she asked haltingly. “You were very angry with me in the saloon tonight.”
“I’m still angry with you.” Something flickered in the depths of his eyes and then was gone. “But I’ve never enjoyed a battle against an unarmed opponent, and I believe it’s safe to say you’re amazingly defenseless at the moment.”
She looked away. He was right. She had never felt weaker or less sure of herself. She moistened her lips with her tongue. “It won’t last.”