Part 27 (1/2)

”I want you to hide here until we've left the wharf. Just to be on the safe side, you know! Make yourselves comfortable, n.o.body will disturb you for a while,” he said with a leering grin.

Helen was glad that the darkness concealed her blus.h.i.+ng. Once they were alone, Andrew pulled her to him, searching her lips.

”No, Andrew. Not here! Not with four men up there!” she whispered.

”No, love. But I want to kiss you while we wait. I missed you so much,” he murmured and began to nibble her earlobes. She folded her arms around his neck. They kissed, their tongues meeting, pressing their bodies together for warmth. His right hand cupped her breast, and squeezed it gently, found its hardening nipple, rubbing it lightly through the cloth. Their kissing rose in urgency. He pushed a leg between her thighs.

”No, Andrew, you promised,” she cried out, trying to keep her voice low.

”I did, my love, and I meant it... Let's just savor being alone.”

He kissed her again. Riding on his leg, she felt the swelling of his manhood. He lifted her up by her b.u.t.tocks, rubbing her crotch against his thigh. She sensed her quickening arousal and responded to his kisses with barely suppressed pa.s.sion. His index finger found her center of pleasure and lightly circled it. She sucked in her breath, her own irrepressible response taking her by surprise.

”No, Andrew!” she begged.

”Yes, love, just let go,” he replied huskily.

”Oh, Andrew.”

His mouth covered her lips, swallowing her moans. She pressed her eyes shut tightly, arched her back, fighting the intensity of her climax. Her fingers dug hard into his shoulders. And then she surrendered with a light shudder, melting slowly into his embrace. Breathing hard, she remained still in his arms for several minutes, her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, sensing her own. He stroked her back, his right cheek on her hair.

She found it hard to accept how readily she had let her pa.s.sion run away with her. Did her own s.e.xual attraction to Andrew render her helpless? Too weak to resist? Simply sweeping away any intention or resolutions? It had happened at the lochan the first time, almost four years ago. And again when he came back.

Andrew's softly spoken ”I love you, Helen” startled her.

She responded by putting her arms around his chest.

”I'm ashamed, Andrew,” she whispered.

He raised her face. His eyes shone, love pouring from them. ”Why, Helen?”

”Because I took my pleasure, selfishly, alone.”

”Not alone, Helen. With me. It gives me pleasure to pleasure you... Oh, Helen, you're my woman.”

He kissed her hard. Then he whispered: ”There are many ways of making love, of giving pleasure to each other, of stealing pleasure, of sharing our love without shame... Tell me you love me too!”

”I love you, Andrew. But sometimes it feels as if you have cast a spell on me. I become putty in your hand.” She chuckled, embarra.s.sed by the unintended pun.

”But I love it if you're putty in my hands.”

A sudden commotion on deck made them break apart, alarmed. Somebody opened the door of the cargo hold. The bright light blinded her for a moment.

”A police patrol is on the wharf. They seem intent on searching all s.h.i.+ps. You must get off, right away,” she heard the captain's exacting voice.

Helen tensed up instantly.

”But how?” asked Andrew.

”That's your problem, not mine. I want you off my s.h.i.+p before they board it!” The door closed again.

”I thought they would stop looking for me when they found the horse. Why are they still after me? Or is it somebody else?” Andrew's tone expressed disappointment, annoyance, and apprehension.

”You can't take any chances, Andrew.”

He picked up the saddle bags and opened the door enough for him to get a view of the wharf. Loud protesting voices and swearing came from a s.h.i.+p farther upstream.

”We can't go onto the wharf. Two constables keep watch,” Andrew whispered. ”We'll have to go overboard into the water and swim for it.”

”You do that. I'll go on the wharf. That will distract them long enough for you to slip away. I don't think they know what I look like. So I should be safe.”

”I don't like it. It's too risky, Helen.”

”No, it's the only way, or else they'll catch us together, and then I'm in trouble too. Leave the saddle bags here. I'll take care of them. And now go, Andrew, there's no time to lose!” she urged. ”We'll meet again at Rose's.”

”Are you sure?”

”Yes, go now!” she said impatiently.

He ducked behind a crate on the deck, s.h.i.+elding him from the policemen on the wharf, and crawled to the port railing, facing the river. A rope ladder hung over the side. Helen watched him disappear down the ladder.

She now picked up the saddle bags and opened the door to go on the deck. Then she changed her mind, went back inside the hold, and stashed the saddle bags away underneath sacks of goods. Carrying only her handbag, she climbed back on deck. The captain was standing on the starboard railing, watching the police search a vessel farther upriver. She approached him.

”Sir, if they ask you any questions, I'm your woman and spent the night on board your s.h.i.+p,” she said, without so much as a blink.

He turned and looked at her in surprise. His eyes searched the deck for Andrew, but he did not ask where he was. Then he nodded.

”Our saddle bags are hidden near the door under sacks. Please give them to another boat for safekeeping before you sail. Somebody will pick them up later... And now, give me a kiss on the cheek, sir!” she told him, her voice completely flat, as if she were talking about the weather.

For a moment, her request took him aback, then he smiled and kissed her, grabbing her waist longer than needed. It felt unpleasant, but Helen realized that she had asked for it. She stepped down the plank, just as two policemen started going up to the adjoining vessel. She recognized one of them as the constable who had arrested Andrew at The Good Shepherd. For just an instant, she faltered. The two immediately turned around and came straight to her as she walked away from the s.h.i.+p.

”Madam, please wait. I must talk to you,” the constable called out.

Helen turned to face him. ”How can I help you, constable?” She was surprised how cool and unconcerned her voice sounded.

”I'm Constable Fraser. We are looking for a young man, dark hair, and a young woman, about your age, with red hair like you-”

”I haven't seen anybody,” Helen interrupted him. ”I just came off the Clyde, where I spent the night. They're sailing at the high tide, sir. I'm sorry I can't tell you more.”

She started walking away. The constable rushed after her and held her by an arm. She looked at his hand in studied consternation: ”What do you think you are doing, sir? Take your hand off my arm!”

He clearly didn't expect such a stern rebuke and dropped his hand. ”I'm sorry, madam, but you'll have to wait here, while we search all s.h.i.+ps. I need to confirm your story.”

He waved to the two policemen near the warehouse, and one came over at the double.

”Wait here with this lady,” he ordered the man.