Kitty_Bride of Hawaii Page 8

  “Well, yes.” She twisted the gloves in her hands. “Of course. I apologize. I should have checked with you.”

  He held up a hand. “You planned perfectly. Most of the time, I’ll be in meetings and will only be able to step away for a short time to assist you. As I said, I’m open today and thought this would be more enjoyable. However, if you’d prefer, we can have it all brought back inside.”

  Her smile hesitant, she fitted the gloves on her hands. “No. A picnic sounds wonderful. I’m afraid with everything going on, I haven’t had much chance to explore. Some fresh air would be welcome.”

  His heart beat a little quicker. She’d get more than fresh air today.

  He was a man on the hunt.

  Chapter Ten

  As servants led them farther into the lush foliage on the opposite end of Warren’s property, Kitty wondered how far they’d traverse for their lunch. Surely Warren didn’t intend to spend too long sampling the food. Did he?

  Lifting her blue-green skirt to avoid a mud puddle, her mind raced. Why couldn’t things ever stay simple with him? They should’ve spoken no more than a few civil words when they crossed paths on the ship. She should’ve docked, met her fiancé, and been married that same day. She’d be settled comfortably with a man she had promised to be faithful to.

  But none of that had happened.

  Since the moment she’d set eyes on Warren, there’d been sparks. If only he was someone else. Someone less… well, less.

  She closed her eyes in silent prayer. She needed to stop thinking like that. The whole situation was impossible. Why couldn’t he see that?

  But as she opened her eyes, her gaze landed on his broad shoulders beneath a buff-colored jacket, his muscles bunching, shifting as they picked their way along the trail. She followed the movement, sweeping over the rest of his form in admiration before her cheeks pinkened and she looked away.

  She’d never beheld a man as attractive.

  What was she going to do? She’d avoided him over the last week with the pretense of settling in and planning this event. Although, truth be told, throwing together a party was little work for her. No, she’d kept her distance for her own self-preservation. Being around Warren bombarded her with too many feelings and desires. Distance was safer.

  If only he’d cooperate.

  The trail widened, revealing a small meadow. A pond glimmered off to the side, fed by a steady trickle of water over bubbling rocks, its source hidden by thick, glossy leaves.

  “Is this all right?” he asked, watching her.

  She could feel his gaze on her, probing, but she kept her eyes steady on the landscape. It was magical. Breathtaking. “It’s beautiful,” she finally said.

  “I’m glad you like it,” he whispered before instructing the servants to set up.

  “I doubt anyone you’ve brought here would disapprove.”

  “You’re the only person I’ve ever shown it to.”

  Forgetting to shield her thoughts, her eyes slid to his. “I am?”

  He nodded, looking like he wanted to say more, but remained quiet.

  The servants made quick work of setting up an impromptu picnic, the traditional petite sandwiches arranged in an appetizing fashion.

  “Would you like us to stay and assist, Mr. Castle?” one of the footman asked.

  “No, Robert. Thank you. Miss Jones and I will manage on our own. We’ll send someone back for it once we’ve finished.” He didn’t glance at her for an opinion. “However, I would appreciate it if you left your rifle.”

  The servant nodded, handing over the gun slung over his shoulder before he and the rest of the group returned to the house.

  Warren hadn’t asked what she preferred, and part of her was grateful—a traitorous part. She never would’ve suggested the servants’ departure. It was too dangerous. Too risky.

  While a young marriageable miss’s reputation would be tarnished after spending time alone with a man without a chaperone, it was acceptable because he employed her. Funny how one tiny detail could change so much. Because she worked for him, they could be alone without a whisper of scandal attached.

  When he remained silent, watching her, waiting, as if pausing for her reaction, she cleared her throat and asked, “Why the rifle?” It seemed the safest question at the moment. She couldn’t ask why he wanted to be alone with her, why they were all the way out here, or what he wanted from her. All of those questions led to discussions she wasn’t ready to have. Feelings she wasn’t ready to reveal.

  He shifted the weapon higher on his shoulder. “We’re still on my property, but there are all sorts of things and people that can cause harm if we’re unprepared.”

  “Are we in danger?” Her brows creased.

  He shook his head softly, offering his arm. He waited, his eyes challenging until she accepted it. “We are safe, but it’s better to be prepared.”

  He led her to a large blanket, helping her seat herself before taking a place next to her. She arranged her lace skirt with care, determined to hide her nerves under a guise of modesty.

  He handed her a plate once she’d finished. “So, tell me what we have here.”

  They eyed the mountain of sandwiches and sliced fruit. It wasn’t any different than what every other society garden party offered. She’d taken care to confer with the cook about what was expected. After all, she was from the East. Things could be vastly different here.

  However, the standard variety of sandwiches, lemonade, and fruit were garden party staples. Warren had nothing to worry over. “I’ve taken care to choose a menu that’s common for such gatherings. I wanted our first event to fit in with the current fashions as much as possible. No risks, no standing out, just easing us in.”

  “It all looks perfect. You’ve done well, Kitty.”

  She blushed. Drat. What was it about Warren that brought on that reaction? She’d known she’d done well. It was all exactly as it needed to be, but hearing Warren’s praise flushed her with pleasure. “I’m glad you approve.”

  Without her consent, he placed a small triangle of each sandwich on her plate and a serving of fruit on the side. Her mouth fell open at the gesture, but she snapped it close.

  He’d served her.

  Himself.

  No one had ever taken the time to do something so thoughtful before. It seemed silly to think of it that way. A servant served her, and she thought nothing of it. Or even being served tea by another woman. But never had a man taken the time to select the choicest foods for her, arranging them on her plate.

  It was intimate. And that closeness wove deep in her belly. “Thank you.”

  He smiled before selecting his own food.

  She bit into the chicken salad, her mouth watering a second before rich flavors exploded on her tongue. She closed her eyes, savoring the taste. Relaxed, she listened to the chatter of birds, the soft breeze through the trees, and the ever-present tinkle of water from the pond.

  The air was as heady as the man in front of her. Warm, fresh, sweet from the tropical flowers surrounding them.

  She’d never been in a place so peaceful. A place where she could be herself, where she could unwind and take it all in. The changes in her life, the paths she’d taken.

  The last few months had stripped her down. Taken her from a place of comfort and ease to fear and poverty. Running from her brother, hiding from his trackers, had taken every ounce of peace from her life. For the first time since her father’s death, her body and mind were at ease.

  When her eyes fluttered open, they locked on with Warren’s as he continued to caress her with his gaze. The desire, the raw, melting need for him she felt deep in her bones was echoed in his eyes.

  With him here, only the two of them under the open sky, they were just two people again. Same as they’d been on the ship during the storm. Their places in society and their pasts didn’t matter.

  His hand cupped her face, a thumb tracing her jaw.

  She closed her eyes on a shiver,
trying to rein in her emotions before they sunk her completely. “We can’t.”

  His eyes bored into hers. “Why not? There’s no one stopping us.”

  “I’ve told you—”

  “Yes. It’s impossible. There are things I don’t know. We can’t be together.” His other hand moved to her opposite cheek, forcing her gaze to his. “Just let go for a minute. Let go and feel. I’m the same man from the ship. Just a man.”

  She would have rejected him if he’d pushed, if he’d demanded. But he did none of that. He held off, his eyes beckoning, pleading with her. He needed this, needed her. She could see it in his eyes, the hunger, the anguish of wanting her. The same hunger that stirred in her own heart.

  Her lips parted, and she nodded permission. She’d pay for it later. Heartbreak would settle in quick, but it was worth it. Having another piece of him, another taste, another moment in his arms would make it worth it.

  Pleasure lit his eyes, but he only inched forward, taking his time, drawing out each and every shiver from her body as he neared—

  A squeal pierced the air.

  She jerked at the sound, disoriented as Warren snapped up, gun at the ready.

  “Warren—”

  “Quiet.”

  His eyes weren’t full of passion anymore. The hazy look vanished, replaced by something cold, deadly.

  The squeal sounded again, and Warren’s rifle barrel followed the rustle of leaves.

  What was out there that caused such alarm?

  She inched to her feet, standing close to his side. She didn’t speak and only panted breaths as she listened, waited.

  “Get behind me.”

  She didn’t argue. She moved solidly behind his back, her body pressing against his.

  “What is it?” she whispered after a moment.

  “A boar.”

  Her brows furrowed. A pig? All this fuss over a pig? She may have grown up in the city, but she’d seen her fair share of barnyard animals, and pigs weren’t something to fear. They might get a little riled at meal time, but they weren’t dangerous. Surely Warren knew that. She stepped to the side. “But, Warren—”

  A louder squeal filled the air as a several-hundred-pound boar charged from the brush. Wicked-length tusks protruded from its snout, aimed straight for her.

  A scream locked in her throat. Riveted to the earth, she couldn’t move as shock and fear swept through her. No one could outrun such a creature.

  The recoil from Warren’s rifle slammed into his shoulder, forcing her another step away.

  Silence enveloped the area. No birds chirped; no bugs buzzed. Only the steady sound of water over rocks cut through silence.

  “I-Is it dead?” she asked.

  He nodded grimly. “Yes.”

  She swallowed hard, unable to look away from the slaughtered animal. “What is that?”

  “A boar.”

  “I’ve seen pigs before. That’s not one.” The hairy creature’s tusk was over a foot long, as lethal as any knife.

  “Feral hogs, or boars, roam the islands. They’ve lived in the wild for generations and are deadly. I’ve seen those tusks gore a man to death. They’re dangerous, and there’s no rhyme or reason for their attacks.”

  She shivered, staring mutely at the carcass. If she’d been here alone, if he hadn’t had a gun…

  He placed the weapon on the ground and gathered her into his arms. “We’re all right.” He rubbed his hands briskly up and down her arms.

  “I didn’t know…”

  “I know. It’s okay.” He shushed her, but she couldn’t seem to stop blabbering. She tried, but words tumbled from her lips.

  Her heart sped as blood rushed through her veins, the sound drowning out all else. One or both of them could’ve died today. They could’ve died.

  “We didn’t die. We’re both safe,” he said. She must have babbled the last bit.

  She wanted to stop. Stop talking, stop shaking, stop thinking, but couldn’t. “What’s wrong with me?”

  “You’re in shock.”

  “Make it stop,” she whispered.

  Before she could breathe, his lips crushed against hers, and all thoughts fled. There was only feeling then. Only need.

  Only them.

  She clung to him, feeling him against her, knowing he was whole, safe. Her hands clutched his coat as he devoured her, taking from her everything she wanted to give.

  His tongue swept into her mouth, and she was there to meet him, testing, tasting, giving as much as he.

  Desire swirled in her as forcefully as the storm that hit their ship, drowning her, taking her under.

  But she didn’t care. She clung to him, to what he made her feel, to this moment, as hard as she’d clutched him against the ship’s wheel.

  His arms wrapped tightly around her, crushing her into him. She only wished they could get closer. She wanted to crawl into him and never leave.

  His hands clenched in her skirts, opening and closing as if tormented about what to do.

  Finally, he wrenched away from her lips, tucking her head under his chin.

  He shook but didn’t speak.

  The world spun into focus again, shocking her. A part of her realized that the boar posed minor danger because Warren had been prepared. But it didn’t matter. Everything they’d been through, everything that had happened to them had ushered her to this point—to the moment where she could no longer deny the truth.

  She loved him.

  It had taken another near-death experience for her to finally admit it, but there it was. She loved him, desired him, wanted him more than she’d ever wanted another person in her life.

  She trembled against him, wanting to stay where she was, but knowing she could never truly belong in his arms.

  The injustice of it all filled her until she took a step back.

  His hold tightened on her a second before letting go. His eyes met hers, the dark depths swirling with unspent passion. “Are you all right?” he asked, his breathing still harsh.

  She nodded a little too hard. “I will be.”

  He glanced grimly at the carcass. “Let’s head back to the house. I’ll send men to come and take care of this.”

  She didn’t argue with him, only nodded her agreement as he wrapped his arm around her, guiding her toward the path.

  She couldn’t have Warren, but for right now, in this moment, she wasn’t going to push him away. She’d take what she could, what her heart could handle. And when the time came to leave, which it undoubtedly would, she would take the memories with her. Even if it destroyed her.

  Warren was in her heart forever.

  Chapter Eleven

  “As you can see, Miss Jones, everything’s in order for tomorrow’s party.”

  Kitty scanned over the selection of cold insides for sandwiches. They couldn’t actually stuff the sandwiches until right before guests arrived or else the food would get soggy. However, the staff had prepared as much as possible in advance.

  “It’s wonderful. Everything looks well in hand.” Kitty smiled at Cook, an older Hawaiian woman with a laugh as full as her figure. “I couldn’t have done all this without you.”

  The woman blushed. “I’m just glad you’re pleased, miss.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell Mr. Castle what a fabulous job you’ve done. Although, once he sees the arrangements, he’ll know. Now, let’s go over the plan for tomorrow one more time.”

  Cook’s chin nodded hard as she shifted back to business. “The sandwiches will be prepared starting at sunrise and left cooling. I recommend sorting them on trays as needed.”

  “Agreed. I think it’s best if—”

  “Well, aren’t we settling in comfortably?” Warren’s mother sauntered into the room. Sniffing in disapproval at the sandwich fillings before her. “I hope this isn’t what you’re planning to serve tomorrow.”

  Kitty straightened her shoulders and calmly said, “It is.”

  Brittle laughter floated in the air. “You�
�re in so far over your head it’s almost laughable. After tomorrow, if this is what you’re presenting, Warren will have no choice but to let you go. I don’t know why I was so worried.”

  Doubt needled Kitty as she scanned the selections. Warren hadn’t disapproved of her choices. From everyone she’d talked to, this was a traditional choice. Petite sandwiches, freshly cut fruit, a selections of tarts, desserts, and lemonade. It was all as it should be.

  Cook’s lips pursed. “Miss Jones has gone to great length—”

  “No, no.” Kitty patted Cook’s hand on the counter. “There’s no need to rush to my defense. Mrs. Castle has a right to her opinion. However, Mr. Castle was pleased when he tested the menu for tomorrow. If there were problems, he would have told me of them then.”

  Cold brown eyes narrowed. “You stupid girl. You have no idea what you’re up against here. You’ll be mingling with the cream of society. It won’t last. Whatever Warren’s fascination is with you, it will fade. Just as it has with all the other women he’s taken a fancy to. If I were you, I wouldn’t get too comfortable here. He’s been generous enough, providing a roof over your head, food, even a new wardrobe. Take what you have and leave before everything falls apart.”

  What a spiteful old woman. Warren had his hands full. “Thank you for your advice, but I’m afraid I’m unable to follow it. I have a job to do here, and I’ll see it done. Now, is there anything else we can do for you? Cook and I have much more to discuss.”

  Red mottled Mrs. Castle’s cheeks. “You’ll be sorry. Believe me. You might feel all high and mighty here, but you and I both know what you really are. So will others. They’ll shun you.”

  The cantankerous woman spun around, marching out in a huff.

  “Well, that was pleasant,” Kitty remarked. Rubbing her arms with her hands, she forced away a chill the woman’s words gave her.

  “I’m worried.”

  Kitty waved away Cook’s concern. “Don’t. She can’t do anything. She’s only venting her frustration. Nothing more.”