Payton's Woman (9 page)

“I think it’s the way
you kiss,” she answered in a voice just as frayed. “No one has ever made me
feel this way. I don’t know what to do,” she said in desperation.

“You’re in luck. I do
know what to do.”

“No, Payton,” she said,
even though her will to resist had faded.

“Ahem.” Sylvia forced a phony
cough.

Julia jumped at the
sound. Her back was to Sylvia, but she recognized who stood behind her. Quickly,
she straightened the bodice of her gown. She took a deep breath in an effort to
calm her body.

Payton relaxed his embrace.
His arms slipped from her waist. “Has the music stopped again?” he asked in an innocent
voice.

“I’m afraid so.”

A huffing sound, as if
from haughty satisfaction, spilled from Sylvia’s lips. “Julia darling, I am
surprised. It appears as though you are actually enjoying yourself for once.
But I’m afraid the entertainment must end. Elizabeth is asking for you. She’s
ready to leave.”

Keeping her back to
Sylvia, she nodded. Tomorrow she would be grilled for details on her behavior,
but tonight she didn’t want to share this moment.

She glanced at Payton. His
eyes blazed with desire. His mouth opened slightly. His tongue licked at his lips
as if savoring her taste lingering there.

Her body ached for his
touch. She longed to return to his arms, but Sylvia stood nearby. She forced
some degree of calmness into her body and hoped her voice sounded normal when
she spoke. “It’s been very nice meeting you, Captain Tyler.”

He smiled a wicked grin.
“It’s been a pleasure for me also. I look forward to our next meeting.”

Sylvia waited until Julia
walked away before turning her attention to Payton. “Captain, is it?” Her gaze
moved over him, frankly appraising his body. “It seems Julia has left you in a
very painful situation. Perhaps I can be of some assistance.”

“That’s kind of you to
offer,” he said as politely as he could, “but as I said, I prefer the chase.”

“I could play that game.”
She stepped closer. Her fingers fondled the lapel of his jacket. “I know a lot
of other games, too.”

“Who did you say was
looking for Miss Anderson?” he asked in an attempt to change the subject.

“Her employer, Elizabeth
Collins. She’s quite well known among the local society here.”

“Elizabeth Collins,” he
repeated slowly before the realization hit him.

He felt like he’d just
been shoved overboard into the frigid sea and almost gasped for air. “You mean
Betsy Dunbar?” he asked while trying to keep the shock from his voice.

“Well, yes, but no one
calls her that anymore. Do you know her?”

His mind reeled from the
knowledge of discovering the woman for whom Julia worked, but he tried to force
some calmness into his voice. “I know her son.”

“You know Mr. Dunbar?” Surprise
tinged her voice. When Payton didn’t respond, she pressed further. “And just
how are you acquainted with him?”

“You might say it was in
regards to a shipping venture. A private shipping venture,” he added, hoping it
would put an end the subject.

“You can tell me.” She fingered
his lapel again. “Lawrence and I are very old friends.”

For the first time, he
looked at Sylvia with interest. She might be able to answer some of his
questions, but he didn’t want to play her kind of game.

Instead, he gripped her
wrist and pulled her hand from his jacket. “I’ll just wait until Dunbar gets to
California and discuss it with him.”

“How do you...I mean,
what makes you think Lawrence is coming here?”

Her jaw sagged opened
and her eyes widened. He couldn’t tell if it was from having her advances
turned down or from their discussion of Dunbar’s arrival, but he knew he’d find
out soon enough.

“He sent a letter from
Mexico a while back. He’s waiting for the gunshot wound in his leg to heal. It
won’t be long before he turns up here in California.”

“What? How do you know
that?” The words stammered from her mouth, but after a moment she seemed to regain
some control. “Just because he was in Mexico, doesn’t mean he’s coming to
California.”

“That’s always possible,
but in this case you’re wrong. You see, I have it on very good authority that
Lawrence Dunbar is coming to California. But you don’t have to take my word for
it. Wilbur Hennigan knew he was on his way here also,” he said before walking
away. He didn’t need to look back to know that Sylvia’s mouth gaped open.

Chapter Eight

Julia spotted Payton beneath
a large oak tree as she made her way along the path leading through the park. He
wore a burgundy colored shirt buttoned to his throat. The tails were tucked
into black trousers. His billed cap tilted to one side and was pulled low over
his forehead to shield his brilliant blue eyes from the mid-morning sun.

In all her life, she’d
never met a man as spectacular as Payton. Just the sight of him made her pulse
quicken. He overwhelmed her senses, scattered her thoughts, and made her long
for a future.

But she had no future. The
past had determined that. At the present time, she had too much at stake to
alter her course. She’d sworn an oath that the men responsible for killing her
brother would not go unpunished. Nothing could sway her from that quest. She’d
already watched one man die for his part in her brother’s death. It would only
be a matter of time before the other murderous villain fell within her grasp. When
she found him, Lawrence Dunbar would pay for his crimes.

Payton had become an
obstacle to her plan. He confused her mind and disrupted her concentration. He
also made her body burn. She craved the caress of his hand on her bare skin, the
touch of his mouth against hers, and the stroke of his tongue across her breast.
A groan escaped her lips when she realized the direction her mind had taken. She
attempted to chase away those thoughts as she forced down the heat that sizzled
in her body.

Her obligation to Payton
had to be repaid quickly so she could get on with what needed to be done. She
refocused her mind as she walked toward him. “You don’t look very happy. Have
you been waiting long?”

“Not long.” He had a coolness
in his voice. His gaze scanned her body. “More of your employer’s borrowed
clothes?”

She brushed her hand
down the front of the orchard colored gown. Her fingers adjusted the tilt of
the matching bonnet. This outfit had been purchased with money she’d earned as
a maid when she’d lived with her mother in Chico.

“I bought this myself
long before I went to work for Mrs. Collins,” she answered in a voice as cool
as his.

His gaze wandered over
her once more. His features softened as a smile tugged at his lips. “You look
beautiful no matter who paid for them.”

She started up the path
at a leisurely pace. Payton strolled along beside her. Other people meandered through
the park. She waited until they passed before she spoke. “Sunday is my day off.
I can meet you tomorrow at the Claremont Restaurant for dinner if that’s
convenient for you. Do you know where it is?”

“Why are you working for
Betsy Collins?” he asked without warning.

Puzzled, she glanced at
his face. He stared back at her through narrowed eyelids. His lips thinned and
pressed together. She wondered why he would be concerned about her employment. “I
need the work.”

“Do you know what she
is?”

“She’s an elderly lady
who requires the services of a secretary.”

“She’s not a lady.” He
took her arm and forced her to stop walking. He turned her to him. “She’s
stolen people’s lives with every vice known to man.”

“I don’t concern myself
with gossip,” she said stiffly. “And neither should you.”

“Why are you working for
her?” he asked again, but it sounded more like a demand than a question.

“I already told you,”
she answered as calmly as she could. “I need the work. Not everyone can be a
sea captain,” she added with a little sarcasm.

“I suppose not.” His stance
relaxed, and his smile returned. He tucked her arm through the crook of his
elbow before starting along the path again. “Have you worked for her long?”

“About three months.”

“You don’t seem like the
usual type of…ah…girl she would hire. How did you happen to go to work for her?”

Julia knew the type of
girl he meant. She surmised he must have discovered Betsy had owned a brothel
before she moved to Sacramento.

“She attends the same
church that I—” She paused with her explanation when he broke into laughter. “Do
you really want to hear this?”

“Absolutely,” he said in
a sober voice, but humor shone in his eyes. “The novelty of a repentant Dunbar
just took me by surprise. Please, go on.”

She took a deep breath and
let it out slowly while trying to regain her composure. “While Mrs. Collins
recuperated at home from the fall that injured her knee, some of the ladies
from the church visited her. I went along a few times and eventually offered
her my services.”

“Services?” He cocked a
dark eyebrow.

“As a secretary. She
must have thought it just as amusing as you. That’s probably why she hired me.”

“Why was it so amusing?”

“Because of my
references.”

A quizzical look spread
over his face. “What’s wrong with your references?”

“Nothing. I was staying
with the family of one of the deacons of the church. My father had been
minister of another church for a number of years.”

He came to a sudden halt.
Without speaking, he stared at her.

“I suppose you find that
amusing also?”

“Not in the least. Does
your father know who you’re working for?”

“My father is dead. So
is my mother. I suppose that makes me an orphan. Would you like to hear about
the rest of my life?” she asked in a curt voice. “My parents traveled west to
spread the gospel. I was born somewhere along the Oregon Trail in the back of a—”

“Why are you angry?” he
interrupted.

“I’m not angry. You
wanted to know about me so I’m telling you. Not that it matters. You already
seem to have your own preconceived notions.”

“What do you mean by
that?”

“You know exactly what I
mean. You think just because I work for Mrs. Collins, I must be one of her
girls
.”

“No, I don’t. It’s just
that I was surprised when I learned who you worked for.”

“You needn’t worry. I
only provide secretarial services.”

“Was it your secretarial
duties that took you to San Francisco last week?”

She turned away from his
gaze. He had too many questions, and she couldn’t give any answers. “My work for
Mrs. Collins had nothing to do with my visit there, so you can put your mind to
rest.”

“My mind would rest a
lot easier if you’d tell me how you managed to stumble into the Devil’s Lair.”

“I already told you why
I was there.”

“That you were lost? No,
I mean the truth. Or are you afraid I won’t be able to handle the shock?” A
hint of humor tinged his voice.

“You don’t strike me as
a man who’s easily shocked.”

“I’m glad you realize
that.” With his hand on her shoulder, he turned her towards him. “So tell me. I
want to hear it from you.”

Although she knew it impossible,
deep down, she had an uneasy feeling that somehow he already knew what had
happened that night. “I may be obligated to you for helping me, but I do not
owe you an explanation for everything I do.”

“You’re right, of
course, but I thought perhaps you believed in me enough to tell the truth. You
trusted me with your life. And last night you depended on me not to say
anything to Sylvia Morgan.”

Her eyes closed for a
moment. She did trust him, but how could she tell him the truth. She had to
tell him something, though. He seemed determined not to let the matter go without
an explanation.

A woman with two small
children traveled along the path. Julia waited until they walked farther away,
giving her time to concoct a believable story. Feeling certain no one could
overhear, she began her story, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him
while she lied.

“All right, if you must
know, I went to San Francisco to interview for another position...as a
governess. I became lost because I wasn’t familiar with that part of town. The
reason I didn’t want Sylvia to know was because she would undoubtedly tell Mrs.
Collins, and I was afraid I’d be dismissed for seeking other employment.”

When he didn’t answer, she
looked at him. An unreadable expression covered his face. His lips thinned. The
muscles in his jaw flexed. His eyelids squinted to narrow slits as if he
studied her intently.

After a moment, his
expression softened, but the brilliance had disappeared from his eyes. He took
her arm. They strolled along the path together, neither speaking for a short
time.

“If you claim that’s the
truth, I won’t argue,” he said, his tone casual. “I don’t think anyone else
will call you a liar either...seeing as how a dead man can’t talk.”

Julia froze in her
tracks. Her gaze scanned his face. She hoped to find a hint of the dead man to
whom he referred.

He stared back just as determined,
as if daring her to speak the name out loud.

Her heart almost leapt
out of her throat, but she swallowed it down. “You mean the two men you killed
that night?” Her breath halted as she waited for his answer.

“There were three dead
men,” he said, his voice as chilling as his gaze. “Are you forgetting Wilbur
Hennigan?”

Stunned, she stared at
him without speaking. Abruptly, she turned away and started up the path at a
rapid pace. His hurried footsteps across the packed dirt echoed close behind. He
grabbed her upper arm and pulled her from the path. They stood next to the
trunk of an oak tree.