Alanna (When Hearts Dare Series Book 2) (5 page)

Mrs. Malone shifted about in her chair, her chin lifting. “Unique eyes?”

“Yes, the thin dark ring around the blue is fascinating.”

Her grim slit of a mouth grew even grimmer. “Since they are like yours, I can only deduce that you seek a compliment, Mr. Wolf.”

With a small tilt of his head, he gathered his calm and responded. “On the contrary, ma’am. I am always intrigued by the interesting meld of hereditary features in offspring. Forgive me if you think me bold, but I only meant to amuse myself.” A casual smile creased the corners of his mouth, but he had done what he’d intended with his rebellious ways—he’d destroyed the woman’s confrontational manner by turning her own tactics against her.

Malone scowled at his wife as if he wasn’t sure what had just transpired. When the irritation on her face dissolved into a properly submissive look, he returned to his dinner.

Wolf decided now was as good a time as any to slip in a serious question. “Have you lived in Boston long, Mrs. Malone?”

“Several years,” Malone answered for her.

Damn, that wasn’t the response Wolf was after. He could wait. When the pause in conversation lasted a beat longer than was comfortable, Mrs. Malone lifted her chin. “I’ll have you know that despite being first-generation residents, we are well-set in Boston society, Mr. Wolf.”

She smirked at Alanna. “Especially since our daughter is now affianced to Mr. Jonathan Hemenway, the third. He happens to be the eldest son of Mr. Jonathan Hemenway, the second.”

“Do tell.” The name didn’t mean a damn thing to Wolf, but it meant something to the braggart by the way she tossed it on the table like the ace of spades.

Thompson cocked a brow at Wolf. Obviously the name held meaning for everyone but him. Mischief danced a jig through his veins. He could always trump the silly woman’s card and rile her a bit more. Why not? He’d never met anyone so discourteous who should have known better. “I’m afraid I am not familiar with the Hemenway name.”

He let his deliberate pause ride until Mrs. Malone was about to open her mouth and set him straight. “Oh, yes,” he interjected. “Aren’t they the family who distills illegal blended whiskey?”

She dropped her fork. No, one could say she actually tossed it on the table.

Thompson jumped into the fray. “I’ve saved a surprise for a clear evening.” He stood and left the table. “Wolf, help me out here, will you? Malone, come see this.”

Wolf made his way over to where the captain stood, and helped him retrieve a long, heavy black case from behind a wall panel. Malone edged in. The women craned their necks. Thompson opened the case to reveal a magnificent telescope lying in pieces on black velvet.

“Oh, my, my, my,” Malone exclaimed. “Wherever did you get the likes of that, Captain?”

“Had it special made.” Thompson stood, hands on his hips, and shook his head back and forth. “For the life of me though, I can’t figure out how to put it all together. What about you, Wolf?”

He shrugged. “I can try.”

Malone and Thompson stepped to the bar while Wolf sat on the floor, cross-legged and with his back to the room. He began to assemble the telescope with little effort.

“Do you know much about astronomy?” Thompson queried.

“A little,” Wolf responded. “But not like you, I expect. You’re the sailor, not I.”

Thompson signaled to the Malones. “You may as well adjourn to the foredeck and relax under the stars. Wolf and I will join you after we get this thing together.”

When the Malones were out of earshot, Wolf spoke up. “When
Wolf and I
get this thing together? Jeezus, I don’t see your busy little fingers at work.”

Thompson sat next to Wolf with a grunt. “You sure gave the old lady conniptions. Have you two met before?”

Wolf shrugged and kept at his task. “The Malones were in the Morgan Hotel dining room the same time our mutual friend Cameron was there. You know how he is when it comes to pretty women. Especially after he’s had a few drinks. Guess it didn’t sit well with Miss Malone’s overprotective mother.”

“And you are innocent, of course.”

“But of course.” Wolf grinned. “Now it’s my turn to interrogate you.” He paused with his hands in his lap for a moment. “What the hell’s wrong with that daughter of theirs, anyway?”

Thompson’s brows perched over his eyes in a hooded frown. “What do you mean?”

Wolf picked up a piece of the telescope, slapped it in place and screwed it into the shaft. “She’s a strange one, isn’t she?”

“Not as I’ve noticed.” A barely discernible twitch at the corner of Thompson’s mouth belied his dry monotone.

“Have you ever heard her speak?”

“I’ve heard her speak.”

Wolf nodded toward another piece of the telescope. “Hand that one over. Then she’s not a mute?”

“Now, if she spoke, how can she be mute? Uh, uh, uh,” Thompson put in when profanity formed on Wolf’s lips.

Thompson smirked. “Good God, what a catch she would be for the likes of you—beautiful, wealthy, and silent.” He flicked an imaginary speck of lint from his lapel. “Perfect match. You two would have exactly the same thing to say to each other—nothing.”

“I wasn’t about to ask for her hand, for God’s sake. I was only making conversation. As if I’d have anything to do with that bizarre family. With the way her father has a habit of saying everything twice, and her mother’s
genteel
way of doing the talking for her, I guess Miss Alanna Malone, of the
oh, so verrry important
Boston Malones, can’t squeeze a word in edgewise. Oh, and don’t forget, she is formally affianced to that
verrry
important Hemenway chap of the
verrry
important Hemenways—whoever the hell they are.”

Thompson chuckled. “Now there’s the biggest mismatch of the season. With the Malones being Irish Catholic, their daughter is their only ticket into Boston’s upper echelons, so they’re forcing the marriage. However, I doubt Miss Malone has any intention of meekly doing her parents’ bidding. And she speaks when she’s of a mind to, by the way. I’ve known her since she was a child. You might not want to underestimate her.”

Wolf attached the last piece to the telescope. “Whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. Toss me the lenses, damn it.”

Thompson handed Wolf a small round container. “By the way, may I commend you on your impeccable manners and
eloquent
use of the English language this evening,
Mr. Wolf.
”

Wolf shot a wicked sneer at Thompson. “Kiss my ass.”

“Back to your infernal cursing? Are you afraid that if you stopped peppering your sentences with profanity, you’d end up with the vocabulary of a four-year-old?”

Wolf grinned. “You don’t want me to answer that, do you?”

“By the way, my good man, if I met you for the first time tonight, I would never suspect your gentlemanly deportment to be anything less than a natural part of you. Care to elaborate?”

Wolf’s guard went up. “So? I’m not the first person in the world to fake good manners.”

“Ah, but tell me, Wolf, how does a man with a decidedly fractured use of the English language, who has spent his adult life roaming the West alone on horseback, suddenly
fake
perfect diction and manners the way you did over dinner? Not to mention that your vocabulary increased by leaps and bounds.”

Wolf merely grunted.

Thompson sat back and studied Wolf for a long moment. “I noticed something else rather curious about you during Trevor and Celine’s wedding reception.”

“What’s that?”

“After a good many drinks, you seemed to let your guard down. When you and the Andrews cousins parried with one another using numerous accents, a thick Scottish brogue fell off your tongue as if you’d been born to it. What was that about?”

Wolf scrambled to his feet and rubbed the small of his back. He whistled for Julia, grabbed a handful of butter mints, and sauntered out the door with the telescope in hand. “Bring the tripod, will you, oh captain of mine.”

When he reached the foredeck, most of the crew was gathered about in anticipation of the captain’s new toy. Others were scattered around the aft deck, enjoying the evening with its clear skies, calm sea, and balmy breezes. The Malones awaited the entertainment in chairs the deck hands had placed in a semicircle.

To no one’s surprise, Malone was the first to take hold of the contraption, like a spoiled child. “Well, would you look at that? What a sight, what a sight. I feel the sky is right down around me. Well, I never. Oh, would you see here. “

He riddled Wolf with questions. Fortunately, he was able to answer them all. Not much time passed before everyone figured out he knew more about the stars than the average person. While Malone peered through the telescope’s lens, Wolf told tales of the mysteries of the heavens.

After Malone had hogged the telescope for what seemed an eternity, he eventually gave over his hold on it to his wife. Wolf turned to her, but Mrs. Malone stretched out her hand to Thompson. “Captain, would you be so kind?”

“Of course.” He escorted her the short distance to the telescope. After a brief moment of twisting the adjustments about, he turned to Wolf, held up his palms in a helpless gesture, and stepped aside. “You’re going to have to help me out here.”

Mrs. Malone stiffened. Wolf moved in close and placed a hand ever so gently at the small of her back, guiding her to the telescope’s lens. Since this brash woman had given him a set-down at every turn, he intended to make certain she experienced him in the same way her daughter was about to—and that she could do nothing to stop him without appearing the fool.

His provocative actions with the mother became deliberate, yet so subtle she could not have been certain whether they were intended. His cheek purposely brushed hers while he instructed her on how to peer through the telescope; he made certain his voice dropped to a husky murmur so his words were lost to the others amidst Malone’s chatter. When he touched her shoulders, or nudged her head in a different direction with the tips of his fingers, he had to fight a grin at the way she stiffened beneath his touch.

And then, it was her precious daughter’s turn.

Wolf took a step back. “Any questions before your daughter has a go, Mrs. Malone?” Even in the moonlight, she visibly paled. Her hand dropped away from the telescope and she swept it along the length of her shawl as if to wipe away perspiration.

“Your turn, Alanna,” Malone called out.

Wolf tilted his head a bit and gave Alanna a half smile.

Mrs. Malone’s mouth worked like a fish out of water. To deny her daughter a turn at viewing the stars through such a magnificent instrument would be unthinkable. What could she say—that
Mr. Wolf
stood too close? That he spoke in far too sensuous a voice? That he touched her shoulders, the small of her back much too intimately? Surely such a reaction on her part would cause Malone and Thompson to think she’d gone daft since they sat barely ten feet away—and she would risk offending the captain by refusing his offer.

Wolf turned to Alanna, gave a nod, and gestured for her to join him. “Come, Miss Malone, I’ll show you what your mother just experienced.”

He choked back laughter at Mrs. Malone’s distressed face when she plopped down in the chair beside her husband and folded her arms over her overly large bosom. If eyes could shoot bullets, Wolf would be a dead man.

When Wolf laid his hand on the small of Alanna’s back, her skin heated right through the layers of fabric. Deftly, he guided her to the telescope and stood next to her, his one hand still in place while he adjusted the lens with the other. When he spoke, the husky, velvet currents in his voice ran over her skin like a caress. His breath warmed her cheek, and the scent of mint lingered in the air around them. Well, at least one of them remembered to breathe.

“Damn the brazen man,” Wolf purred as he adjusted the telescope’s lens.

His words tickled her ear and sent a shudder running through her before it settled low in her stomach. She leaned forward and set her eye to the lens. “What do you mean?” She managed to sound calm despite the quickening blood pounding in her ears. He stepped a shade closer, until her shoulder fairly nestled in the curve of his arm. The palpable heat of him surrounded her.

“Those are likely your mother’s thoughts about now, Miss Malone.”

His words feathering her skin sent every nerve in her body vibrating. He would be right, of course—Alanna was well aware of what he’d been up to with her mother, and knew full well why. The scamp.

He readjusted his hand at the curve of her back in a way so subtle no one else would be aware. She only had to step away and that would be the end of what was going on between them. Instead, she leaned slightly into him.

His fingers pressed ever so gently into her back in response, and he chuckled lightly. Her heartbeat stuttered at the way his warmth branded her. With all the self-discipline she could muster, she forced her attention back on the stars. There could have been two or ten thousand—she could not tell for all the fireworks bursting in her head. She forced aloofness to surround her. “And Mother would think this utter nonsense because?”