Riverboat Named Desire

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

A creaking sound from the entryway caught Lila’s attention.

While her heart thrashed wildly in her chest, she put her wine glass down and slowly leaned forward in the tub. It sounded like someone had opened the door, but that couldn’t be since she occupied the cabin alone.

Footsteps!

She watched as a dark silhouette rounded the corner and stood lurking in the shadows. Surprised at his presence, she slowly rose from the tub and stood before him, soapy water falling along the soft curves of her body. The scent of lilacs filled the cabin. When the cool air chilled her body, she came back to her senses and looked down, realizing she was naked. She quickly grabbed a towel. She had barely finished covering up when a cowboy, dressed in a shiny vest and a shirt edged with lace, came into the light. She gasped, struck by his handsome looks, until her gaze shifted downward to a small, ornate, double-barreled Derringer snug in a holster on his belt.

“W-Who are you? What d-do you want?”

With a slight stagger, the cowboy leaned forward and looked at her closely.

She stood wet and cold as his steely blue gaze raked up and down her body, the steel in them suddenly turning to soft, sultry desire. “Please stop staring.”

Like a true gentleman, he tipped his hat. “So sorry, madam. Wrong cabin.”

Just then, another cowboy walked up behind the first, his formal attire every bit as grand as the first. “Whoa,” he said, plainly surprised at what he saw. Hesitating a moment, he finally said, “We’re the Morgan brothers. I’m Clint, and this here’s Val…uh, that’s short for Valentine in case you’re wonderin’.”

“Look,” she said angrily, “I don’t care what the hell his name is. You’ve come into the wrong cabin, and I would appreciate it if you would leave.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Clint said. “Our cabin is next door. I guess Val here must have come in here by mistake.”

“Go!” she shouted while she stood there freezing.

As the two of them moved slowly toward the door, she couldn’t help noticing that they were clearly the handsomest men she’d ever seen with an unsettling amount of s*x appeal. Even though they were dressed in a combination of lace and cowboy boots, the touch of lace didn’t seem to diminish their maleness at all.

She focused on Clint’s lush, full lips, but the one called Val had a manly aura that made her breath come a little quicker. He was a little huskier than Clint, who looked to be the younger of the two. As she watched them, all she could think about was what it would feel like to have them kissing their way down her naked body.

“Ma’am? You all right?” Clint finally asked, jolting her out of her reverie.

“What?” she said, and then remembered where she was. “Please,” she began as she pointed to the big, overstuffed chair. “Before you go, would you please hand me my robe?”

Clint rushed over to get it and quickly gave it to her. “I’m sure sorry we disturbed your bath. Val here just got a little confused. I mean, all these doors look alike.”

She turned away from them, draped the robe over her shoulders, and with a few moves like a seasoned stripper, she managed to drop the towel to the floor. Picking it up, she threw it aside, and then looked at them accusingly. “It’s obvious that you gentlemen are drunk.”

“That we are, madam,” Clint answered as he tipped his hat and gave her a sexy wink. “It’s the firewater they serve here. It’ll do it to you every time.”

As her gaze shifted to her own glass of ‘firewater,’ she felt a twinge of guilt, and then looked back at Clint. Seeing only a look of silly inebriation, she gave him an understanding smile. “Of course. It can happen, I suppose.”

“If you’ll excuse us, we’ll be leaving.” Turning, Clint tried to steer his brother toward the door when he bumped up against a table and knocked off a vase of flowers. “Sorry.”

“Be careful!” Lila urged, watching them weave around on their way to the door.

The moment they were gone, she sat down and poured herself some coffee and drank it until she felt the dizziness pass. She wasn’t one to drink heavily, and would never let herself get tipsy while out, but tonight, she was alone in her cabin and thought it safe to indulge herself. She hadn’t expected company.

The images of those two brothers barging into her cabin during her bath stayed in her mind. Sure, she’d had too much to drink, but that’s no excuse for what she’d done. In her own mind’s eye, she could see herself as they must have seen her—standing naked and wet for several minutes before she reached for her towel.

What made her do it? Was it the alcohol? She knew she must have had more to drink than she realized, either that or she had experienced a moment of shock. But to stand before them like an exhibitionist, it wasn’t like her. Yet she got a definite thrill when she saw the looks of desire in both their eyes.

It’s this damned boat.

Her gaze raked over the cabin at the combination of elegance and whoredom. She’d felt different ever since she’d come aboard at New Orleans. The shocking paintings of ménage couples on couches, beds, even on deck seemed to be saying, It’s okay. f**k your troubles away. She glanced around at the furniture, the decoration. It was all so suggestive, making it easy for the unsuspecting guest to fall into the lascivious hell the Riverboat Desire offered. She knew something of its reputation and its history, but nothing she’d ever heard could compare to being aboard this floating love den.

* * * *

As the two cowboys prepared for bed, the vision of a naked woman with soap bubbles sliding down her body haunted them. Clint noticed that Val was restless and watched as he finally got up, grabbed his pants, and put them back on.

“Where are you goin’?”

“You stay right here. I’ve got an errand to run.”

Clint watched him hurry out and knew his older brother was at it again, and the woman next door had something to do with it. They had spent half the night at the gaming tables in the casino and had come back to their room to get more money when it happened. They had almost reached their cabin when Val suddenly stopped at her door, brazenly walked into her cabin, and pretended to be drunk. Clint had no choice but to back him up. He knew it was Val’s i***t way of getting introduced to her, and that was his first mistake.

Clint knew they were headed for trouble, but Val had always been one to act without thinking. He had a wild streak in him that simply couldn’t be tamed. Tonight, when he saw Val barge into her cabin, he knew it was just another one of his wild tricks. That little bit of craziness in Val had gotten them into trouble more times than he could count, and Clint felt like tonight would be the worst yet.

He couldn’t sleep, so he got up and paced. The minutes passed, turning to hours, it seemed. While walking back and forth, he thought about the woman next door, and suddenly it dawned on him what Val was up to.

Soap bubbles!

He rushed around, putting on his clothes, grabbing his Derringer, and headed out. He didn’t have to go very far before he heard Val’s voice.

* * * *

While sitting there, Lila suddenly heard a knock. Putting her coffee cup aside, she rose carefully from her chair, went to the door, and opened it. She stood dumbfounded when she saw Val Morgan standing there with a bouquet of roses in his hand. His odor was a mixture of cologne, cigarettes, whiskey…and man.

“Yes?” she managed to say.

“I’d like to apologize for what happened earlier,” he said, and extended a bouquet of roses to her. “It’s not much, I know, but I hope they will somehow make up for my stupid mistake and the vase of flowers we knocked over earlier. I’ve had a little coffee and sobered up a bit.” He gave a light chuckle. “Enough, anyway, to feel a little embarrassed.” As he spoke, he maneuvered his way in until he finally closed the door behind him.

“What are you doing?”

His eyes shifted down to her robe as if remembering what was beneath it. “By the way, I didn’t catch your name earlier.”

“My name is Lila Palmer, Mr. Morgan. Now, I would appreciate it if you would lea—”

He pressed a finger to her lush lips. “No, you wouldn’t appreciate it. Not at all.”

She looked up at him surprised, his blue eyes a searing flame that matched the moist, lush flame of desire beginning in her groin and flaring upward. The space was small, shadowed, and intimate, and his voice was husky and filled with desire.

His gaze shifted toward the tub. “I see you’ve finished your bath.” He smiled. “Too bad, I would like to have joined you.”

“To join me? Really, Mr.—”

With gentle hands, he reached out and lightly pulled the tie on her robe, allowing it to fall loose.

She gasped at his blatant s****l overture, but her objection seemed weak and almost non-existent beneath his heated gaze.

Protocol demanded that she slap his face, to ask him to leave her cabin, but the darkness of the foyer, the intimacy of the scene, and the dizzying closeness of the blond-haired devil who was touching her made her resistance melt like hot wax falling down a lighted candle.

She knew she was quickly coming under his spell. Or was The Desire to be blamed for the sensuous feeling that by now consumed her? Before, she resisted him, but now she wanted to feel his hands, his tongue, his hot breath on her body as he made love to her. She wanted to scream out her satisfaction as he thrust himself inside her. God, how much lon—

Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by someone else opening the door. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw Clint, the other Morgan brother. Their strong presence overwhelmed her, making any good intentions she had vanish into thin air. Before she knew what was happening, the bouquet of roses slipped from her hands, and she surrendered to the magic, allowing herself to be surrounded by their strong male flesh.