Read Online Rose by Jill Marie Landis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jill Marie Landis
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glare at him every time they eyed him across a room.
He briefly explained the circumstances and then agreed when she told him he would have to pay for the girl’s room in advance.
“Can’t tell about these foreigners,” she grumbled as she led him to one of the rooms at the top of the narrow stairs. As Kase carried the girl over the threshold and moved toward the iron-railed bed, Bertha warned, “I’ll have no funny business here, mister. I run a good clean boardinghouse. You be down those steps in two minutes or I’ll be up here with my broom.”
He watched her huff out, his eyes following the motion of her ample hips and buttocks as they swayed along behind her. From the back she looked like a wide wall of calico banded by an apron bow.
Shifting the weight of the girl in his arms, he set her satchel on the floor and then gently laid her on the coverlet atop the narrow bed. The springs groaned in protest and he feared for a moment she might awaken, but it seemed shock and exhaustion had taken their toll. Kase set her hat on the bedside table, then smoothed her heavy skirt down, taking care to cover all signs of her ruffled white petticoats beneath. He straightened and for a moment stood staring down at her.
It was funny, he thought, how responsible he felt for this waiflike woman. He guessed that holding her in his arms as he carried her down Main Street accounted for this sudden feeling of protectiveness. That and the fact that she reminded him of his mother. At least Analisa had been accompanied by her family when she made the journey to America. This girl had traveled all the way alone. As he stared down at her, he became determined to see that she left Busted Heel and went back to Italy so that she would not have to endure any of the hardships his own mother had suffered.
No use getting all worked up, though, he told himself as he reached out to push her hair back off her face and spread it out on the pillow. After all, by tomorrow afternoon, she would be gone. He’d see her safely to the train and be done with it.
The room was nearly stifling. Kase was careful not to make a sound as he opened the windows to admit a cooling breeze, then returned to the bed. Perspiration glistened on her brow and dampened the wisps of hair near her face. He glanced back at the open door and hesitated. Bertha wouldn’t take kindly to any request from him.
It took more than two minutes to remove her high-button shoes without a hook, but finally the task was accomplished. He listened intently, but still didn’t hear Bertha making good on her threat, so he reached down and around the girl, gently slipped his hands under her, and began to unfasten the long line of round black buttons that ran down the back of her gown. At least she’d be a bit more comfortable, able to remove the gown alone when she awoke. The idea sounded logical enough until his fingers met with the soft silken feel of her skin and he felt a surge of warmth deep inside that didn’t come from the heat in the room. At the same moment, he realized that his shirtfront was near enough to brush against the bodice of her gown and that it would only take the merest pressure from the palms of his hands at her back to press her against him. By the time he reached the last button at her waist, Kase had begun to sweat. Carefully he slipped his hands out from beneath her and straightened.
“Damn.” The whispered word escaped him and his eyes narrowed as he stared down at the sleeping figure on the bed. What was there about the girl that just the sight of her, the slightest touch of his fingertips against her ivory skin, aroused him? What perverseness made him long to ignore her plight and take advantage of her unconsciousness?
Shaken by his thoughts, Kase quickly stepped back and walked away from her. Something inside made him stop at the threshold and turn to stare at her. She looked like a broken doll lying in the center of the bed, hair streaming out around her
He briefly explained the circumstances and then agreed when she told him he would have to pay for the girl’s room in advance.
“Can’t tell about these foreigners,” she grumbled as she led him to one of the rooms at the top of the narrow stairs. As Kase carried the girl over the threshold and moved toward the iron-railed bed, Bertha warned, “I’ll have no funny business here, mister. I run a good clean boardinghouse. You be down those steps in two minutes or I’ll be up here with my broom.”
He watched her huff out, his eyes following the motion of her ample hips and buttocks as they swayed along behind her. From the back she looked like a wide wall of calico banded by an apron bow.
Shifting the weight of the girl in his arms, he set her satchel on the floor and then gently laid her on the coverlet atop the narrow bed. The springs groaned in protest and he feared for a moment she might awaken, but it seemed shock and exhaustion had taken their toll. Kase set her hat on the bedside table, then smoothed her heavy skirt down, taking care to cover all signs of her ruffled white petticoats beneath. He straightened and for a moment stood staring down at her.
It was funny, he thought, how responsible he felt for this waiflike woman. He guessed that holding her in his arms as he carried her down Main Street accounted for this sudden feeling of protectiveness. That and the fact that she reminded him of his mother. At least Analisa had been accompanied by her family when she made the journey to America. This girl had traveled all the way alone. As he stared down at her, he became determined to see that she left Busted Heel and went back to Italy so that she would not have to endure any of the hardships his own mother had suffered.
No use getting all worked up, though, he told himself as he reached out to push her hair back off her face and spread it out on the pillow. After all, by tomorrow afternoon, she would be gone. He’d see her safely to the train and be done with it.
The room was nearly stifling. Kase was careful not to make a sound as he opened the windows to admit a cooling breeze, then returned to the bed. Perspiration glistened on her brow and dampened the wisps of hair near her face. He glanced back at the open door and hesitated. Bertha wouldn’t take kindly to any request from him.
It took more than two minutes to remove her high-button shoes without a hook, but finally the task was accomplished. He listened intently, but still didn’t hear Bertha making good on her threat, so he reached down and around the girl, gently slipped his hands under her, and began to unfasten the long line of round black buttons that ran down the back of her gown. At least she’d be a bit more comfortable, able to remove the gown alone when she awoke. The idea sounded logical enough until his fingers met with the soft silken feel of her skin and he felt a surge of warmth deep inside that didn’t come from the heat in the room. At the same moment, he realized that his shirtfront was near enough to brush against the bodice of her gown and that it would only take the merest pressure from the palms of his hands at her back to press her against him. By the time he reached the last button at her waist, Kase had begun to sweat. Carefully he slipped his hands out from beneath her and straightened.
“Damn.” The whispered word escaped him and his eyes narrowed as he stared down at the sleeping figure on the bed. What was there about the girl that just the sight of her, the slightest touch of his fingertips against her ivory skin, aroused him? What perverseness made him long to ignore her plight and take advantage of her unconsciousness?
Shaken by his thoughts, Kase quickly stepped back and walked away from her. Something inside made him stop at the threshold and turn to stare at her. She looked like a broken doll lying in the center of the bed, hair streaming out around her
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