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  He turned to see Elizabeth smiling at him from the bunk. Even in her modest cotton nightgown, with the covers pulled up to her waist, she was a tempting sight. Her hair cascaded in damp waves over her shoulders, droplets of water slipping from the dark tendrils onto her gown, turning the thin fabric nearly transparent over her breasts. Her gaze moved slowly, appreciatively over his body, the glow of desire in her eyes. It took every ounce of strength he possessed not to throw back the covers and bury himself in the hot, wet heaven between her thighs.

  He was losing his willpower again, just like he had that night in the parlor. Christ. His best friend’s body lay in the room above and Trey had been fingering his sister. He really was a deviant bastard, at least when it came to Elizabeth. She brought out the worst in him. He had to get a hold of himself.

  "There’s not a thing wrong," he answered tightly. "And exactly how long have you been lying there watching me? I thought you agreed not to peek."

  Elizabeth gave him a saucy smile. "I did no such thing. I said we'd both have to take our chances, remember?"

  "Yes, but I was gentleman enough to respect your modesty." Trey spread a blanket on the floor.

  "Thank you."

  "You could have done the same."

  "I'm no gentleman."

  "You're not much of a lady, either," Trey snapped and extinguished the lamp.

  There was no response from the bunk as he removed his robe and settled into his makeshift bed. It seemed his barb had touched a nerve. Yet he felt no satisfaction in the knowledge. The comment had been uncalled for; Elizabeth was more of a lady now than she'd ever been. If he'd harbored doubts before about her memory loss, they were gone now. She truly was different, in so many ways. Her kindness toward others--she’d insisted that most of her extensive wardrobe be sold and the money go toward the welfare of Cottonwood's freed slaves--her foolish trek out onto the deck tonight to check on him... These things would have been completely out of character for the Elizabeth McBride he once knew.

  Yes, she had indeed changed. But would it last?

  Finally, there was a huffy sigh from the bunk and the sound of a pillow being punched, then a mumbled, "So sue me."

  Safe in the darkness of the cabin, Trey allowed himself to smile.

  ****

  "Elizabeth, wake up."

  Trey's voice penetrated Elise's slumber. Pushing her hair away from her face, she rolled over to see him standing a safe distance away in the center of the cabin. He was already freshly shaved, dressed in another very dapper-looking suit, his hair brushed neatly away from his face.

  His well-groomed appearance made Elise suddenly conscious of how awful she must look. She hadn't slept well at all the previous night. Trey's presence in the cabin had robbed her of her ability to think of anything else. She'd lay in the dark for hours, hearing his every move within his bed on the floor, his every breath.

  She’d hoped he would have responded to her flirting, hoped he would have eventually succumbed and crawled under the covers with her, but he hadn’t. Maybe he wasn’t turned on by boldness in a woman. She remembered his stinging comment about her not being a lady. It was true, but she hadn't been able to help herself. He just had that effect on her. But she needed to remember what time she was in. Nineteenth century southern ladies were expected to be modest and virtuous, not slutty.

  It had been nearly dawn before she'd finally slept.

  “You're looking well-rested this morning," Elise replied, her tone a bit resentful that he'd apparently slept well despite her presence. "What time is it?"

  "Nearly nine. They stop serving breakfast in an hour, so you'd better get dressed if you'd like to eat."

  Elise sat up. "Why didn't you wake me sooner?"

  "Since I can't count on any privacy otherwise," Trey gave her a pointed look, "I figured that I'd better take advantage of your unconscious state while it lasted."

  Elise sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry about last night. I promise to respect your privacy from now on."

  Trey raised his eyebrows. "Thank you." He reached for his walking stick which leaned against the wall near the door. "I'll go up to the saloon and wait for you there. Would you like me to order for you?"

  "Sure. Whatever you're having will be fine. I'll try not to be too long."

  After performing a quick morning toilette, she drew on another plain, black gown, and secured her hair behind her head with a modest black net. She joined Trey a half-hour later in the crowded saloon and found he'd ordered a breakfast of scrambled eggs, ham, and warm bread with butter and jam. He rose politely when she approached, but carefully kept his gaze from lingering on her more than an instant.

  Elise munched on a slice of bread spread with peach jam and watched Trey tackle the mound of food on his plate. He had a healthy appetite, but it certainly hadn’t softened his physique at all. Last night she'd gotten a good look at his naked upper torso and saw not an ounce of extra flesh, just smooth, golden skin stretched tightly across lean muscle. Not muscle-bound, but sinewy and hard, with bulges in all the right places.

  Elise swallowed convulsively then reached for her coffee to wash down the lump in her throat. Deliberately changing her train of thought, she asked, "What exactly is it that you do in New York? I mean, for a job."

  Trey swallowed a mouthful of eggs then replied, "Mostly investing and commodities trading, though my most recent project is steel."

  "Steel?"

  "Steelmaking, to be precise." He wiped his mouth with his napkin. "I’ve used the profits from my other investments to buy a steel manufactory. Plus a few other amenities."

  "I take it there's quite a high demand for your product?"

  "Not yet, but there will be. Right now, steel is still too expensive to produce for it to take the place of iron on the marketplace. But I've been in contact with a fellow in England, Henry Bessemer, who claims he's on the verge of a breakthrough in the process of making steel cheaper to produce. Once he does, demand will skyrocket."

  Elise smiled at Trey's confident prediction and thought of what the future held: coast-to-coast railways, skyscrapers, ocean liners and automobiles. He was right, and he was setting himself up to become very wealthy indeed; most likely his descendents as well. Smart as well as gorgeous. The man was impressive.

  "Tell me about your family," she requested. When Trey's fork froze in mid-air, Elise remembered he had a brother--a brother who apparently also had a thing for Elizabeth. Oops.

  "What about them?" Trey replied stonily, setting the fork back on the plate.

  Well, she’d stepped in it, she may as well slog through. She was curious about this brother and what had happened between the three of them. "Well, I can't remember anything about your family. I know your parents are both gone, but what about the rest? You do have siblings who live with you, don't you?" She swallowed. “Jeff said you have a brother?”

  Trey’s expression darkened. "What else did Jeff tell you?"

  “He, um…he implied that your brother was interested in Elizabeth- I mean me.” Trey’s jaw pulsed with tension. “Trey, please. Why don’t we just get everything out in the open. I want to make things right between us and I can’t do that if I don’t know what happened.”

  Trey took a deep breath then ground out, “It’s true. Rad was interested in you.”

  “Rad?”

  “Radcliffe. My younger brother.”

  Elise bit her lip. “Before or after you and I were involved?”

  He looked up and held her gaze. “The same time.” When her eyes widened, he continued. “You were stringing us both along, Elizabeth, and it nearly tore our family apart. Rad and I nearly killed each other when we found out.”

  “Oh, Trey,” Elise whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  Trey’s expression softened. “I know you are, now. You have changed, Elizabeth. I can’t deny it anymore. It’s just hard sometimes, to let go of the bad memories.”

  Elise reached across the table, taking his hand in hers. “Then we nee
d to make some new memories, don’t you think? Happy ones.”

  He gave her hand a squeeze, but his small smile was fleeting. “Rad lives with me. He and I are business partners. I don’t know how he’s going to react when I bring you home. I don’t want to relive the mess we went through before.”

  Eyes stinging with unshed tears, Elise returned his squeeze. “You won’t. I won’t hurt you. I’ll leave before I let something like that happen again.”

  He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a light kiss to her fingers that made her heart flutter, then he quickly let go of her hand and composed himself. “Enough about Rad. I have a younger sister as well. Rachael is nearly eighteen and like all young women that age, is preoccupied with fashion, social events and young men. She didn’t know you well before, but I think she’ll like you now."

  Elise smiled. “I can’t wait to meet her.” As Trey went on about Rachael and other benign tidbits of information about his life in New York, she nodded politely and tried to listen, but her mind kept wandering to thoughts of what awaited her when she met Radcliffe. God, she hoped there wouldn’t be any more ugly confrontations. She was so tired of paying for Elizabeth’s sins.

  ******

  It began to rain again that afternoon while they were passing time on the promenade deck. Rather than be alone with Elise in their cabin, Trey suggested they engage another couple in a game of Whist in the main saloon.

  Elise declined, having absolutely no idea how to play the game. "I'm afraid I don't remember, and I wouldn't want to hold back the other players." She thought for a moment. "How about a game of chess?"

  "You don't remember how to play Whist, but you've suddenly acquired the ability to play chess? You've never played before now."

  Elise just shrugged. "The mind is a mysterious thing."

  Trey lifted a dark brow. "Your mind is, at least."

  It had been years since Elise had played. Her father had taught her when she was twelve and the game had quickly become a Sunday evening ritual in the Davis home. But her lack of practice was evident and Trey won the first match.

  "Would you care to play again?"

  "Not today. I'm rustier at this than I thought."

  “Nonsense. You played very well," Trey declared then added, "for a woman with a recent head injury."

  Elise met his crooked smile with one of her own. "Yes, well, since it did take you over two hours to finally beat me, I wouldn't get too cocky about it if I were you."

  "I was going easy on you."

  "Sure."

  Trey laughed. It was an open, natural laugh, one of those rare moments when he let his guard down around her. Elise wished she had a camera to capture that moment and hold it forever. His smile was stunning, revealing even, white teeth. God, he was so incredibly handsome when he didn't appear to have the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  Elise realized she was staring and reluctantly pulled her gaze away toward the window. "It's still raining," she announced with a sigh.

  "Would you like to go back to the cabin and lie down for a while before dinner?"

  Trey's benign question sent a shiver of desire down Elise's spine. When he too realized the intimate suggestion in his words, his brow furrowed and he cleared his throat uncomfortably, then began gathering up the chess pieces to return them to their wooden case.

  Elise felt herself blushing; his discomfort was catching. "No. No, I'm fine, really. But if you'd like to rest, feel free. I'll just stay here and find someone to visit with."

  "Thank you, but I'm quite all right."

  "What should we do, then?"

  "What would you like to do?"

  Tear off your clothes and lick every inch of your body. Elise bit her lip. "Oh, I don't know. We could just talk…" Then she had an idea, a very daring idea. "Or I do know of another game we could play."

  Trey looked at her curiously. "You certainly are remembering some strange things for a woman who claims no memory of her past." His expression tightened into a mix of resignation and dread. "Are you starting to get your memory back, Elizabeth?”

  "No, of course not," Elise was quick to reply, then just as quickly came up with an explanation to soothe him. "I overheard a couple of young ladies playing this game just this morning when we were out on deck." He seemed to accept her little fib. "It's a simple game, from what I heard. I believe they called it ‘Truth or Dare.’"

  "And how is it played?"

  "Well, I gathered that each player takes a turn and selects either ‘truth’ or ‘dare.’ Then the other player selects the appropriate question, or dare, depending on which the first player has chosen."

  "In other words, this is a game in which you get to choose which will be put to the test, your knowledge or your skill?"

  Elise grinned, feeling very mischievous. "I'd say that's it in a nutshell."

  "Fine. Would you like to start?"

  "Since I know how it's played, why don't I ask the first question," Elise offered.

  Trey leaned back in his chair and studied her with an incisive gaze. "You just said ‘question.’ That tells me you're assuming I'm going to choose ‘truth.’" Elise smiled and shrugged. "And by the look in your eye, it's clear you have a devil of a question in mind. Therefore, I choose ‘dare.’"

  Elise shrugged again. "Okay. Give me a moment to come up with something." She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, assessing the cocky man across the table from her then laughed softly. "I've got it." Crooking a finger at him, Elise urged him to lean close enough for her to whisper the dare. When finished, she sat back laughing at Trey's completely incredulous expression.

  Trey shook his head. "That is the most absurd..." Then scowling, announced adamantly, "I refuse to do it."

  Chapter Six

  Elise laughed out loud. "Oh, no. You have to do it."

  Trey leaned forward and ground out, "I wouldn't have chosen the dare if I'd known what you had in mind."

  "That's the whole point of the game. You make your choice then take your chances."

  "But it's ridiculous!"

  "Even so..."

  Trey's mouth thinned to an angry line, but sighing and giving Elise one more dirty look, he waved over a steward.

  "Yessir?" The young fellow came to stand at their table.

  "Could I trouble you to procure me some writing materials?"

  "Certainly, sir. I'll be back directly." He disappeared and returned a minute later with the requested items. "Here you are, sir."

  Trey thanked him and sent him on his way with a generous tip, then folded the blank piece of paper and turned it over to address the outside. He glared up at Elise and growled, "And how exactly do I spell the last name of this illustrious fellow?"

  Elise smothered a giggle. "Exactly how it sounds."

  Trey dipped the pen in the ink bottle and with an angry sweep of his hand, penned the name on the note. Then he stood up, grabbed his cane and motioned to Elise. “Come on. I'll go through with this, but we're not waiting around to see the results."

  Elise took his offered hand. "Party pooper."

  They made their way to a different steward standing near the doorway of the saloon. Squaring his shoulders, Trey cleared his throat. "Excuse me. Would you please be kind enough to see that this note is delivered?"

  "Yessir." The man glanced at the name on the note. "The gentleman is in the saloon?"

  "Yes, I believe he is."

  "Very well, sir. I'll see that he gets it."

  The steward moved back into the saloon and Trey grabbed Elise's hand, fairly dragging her out onto the rainy deck. Elise pulled him to a halt just outside the door. "Wait a minute! We have to listen."

  "That was not part of the dare. If you'd like to stay and witness the results of your ludicrous scheme, be my guest, but I'm-"

  "Shhh! Listen!" Elise turned her head toward the saloon, keeping a firm grip on Trey's hand.

  The steward's voice rang loud and clear. "I have a message here for a Mr. Freely! A message for Mr
. I.P. Freely! I.P. Freely?" Ripples of laughter began to erupt from the guests in the saloon.

  Elise began to laugh, but Trey dragged her away as fast as he could manage. Despite her protests, he didn't stop until they reached their cabin. He unlocked the door then thrust her inside.

  Watching the hard set of his shoulders as he shut the door, Elise began to wonder if she'd gone over the edge. She hadn't meant for him to get so angry. It was just a harmless prank she'd remembered from her slumber party days. She had thought it might loosen him up a bit. Perhaps she'd been terribly wrong.

  "Trey, I-" He still had his back to her, and his shoulders were shaking slightly. "Trey?" An apology hovered at her lips when she heard his low chuckle. He turned to her, shaking his head.

  “My God,” he groaned. “That was by far, the most ridiculous, immature thing I’ve done since I was twelve years old.” He was grimacing, but couldn’t hold back the laughter that rumbled from his chest.

  Elise let out a breath of relief and joined him, bursting into soft giggles. She felt a strange sensation of familiarity. His rich, appealing chuckle, his slightly lopsided grin, the boyish sparkle in his eyes, they struck some sort of chord within her memory. She couldn't quite isolate and identify the memory, but it made her feel gloriously happy just the same.

  Trey moved close to Elise, his whiskey-colored eyes intense as he hooked a knuckle under her chin and raised her head. His voice became low and husky. "You know what comes next, don't you?"

  Elise could barely breathe, her heart pounding like a tympani. This was it. He was going to kiss her. It was all she could do to mutter an answer. "I-I... what?"

  Trey's gaze slipped to her mouth as she wet her lips in unconscious preparation for his taking. "Truth or dare?"

  Elise knew what he wanted her to say. "Dare," she whispered, feeling the molten heat of arousal flow through her insides at the thought of what that dare would be.

  Trey grinned. "You're sure?"

  "Yes."

  "Very well. I hereby dare you, madam, to sing ‘Oh! Susanna’ while gargling a mouthful of water."

  Elise's eyes shot open wide. "What?"