Savannah Heat Read Online Free

worries.
    Silver sighed with resignation and forced herself to climb from the warmth of the tub. She dried herself on a white linen towel and pulled on the canvas breeches the sailor had brought, finding them such a snug fit she nearly blushed. A white cotton shirt came next. Then, using the comb she found on thebureau, she worked the tangles from her hair and dried the unruly silver mass in front of the fire.
    God, she felt like a brand-new woman, one ready to meet the challenge that lay ahead.
    A search of the room turned up a pistol, which she shoved into the waistband of her breeches, and a heavy wooden belaying pin that would make a perfect weapon. Now all she had to do was lure the major back in and hit him over the head.
    Silver grimaced at the thought but pushed her reluctance away.
You’ll just have to do it
, she told herself firmly, and bent to the task ahead.
    After tying her shirttail up around her waist and out of the way and securing her hair at the nape of her neck with the leather thong the major had cut from her wrists, Silver dragged a chair behind the door and positioned it to give her the access she needed. Then she stuck her head out into the passageway.
    Morgan Trask leaned against the back of a small tapestry-covered settee, his booted feet crossed in front of him, reading the newspaper in the yellow glow of the brass reflecting lamp that hung on the wall behind him. He was definitely a handsome man, she thought, in a tough, no-nonsense sort of way. He had the greenest eyes she had ever seen, and his skin, tanned dark by the sun, looked smooth except for the jagged scar that marked his cheek.
    She wondered fleetingly what kind of man he was, then, remembering his friendship with her father, figured she already knew.
    “Excuse me, Major,” Silver said sweetly, “could I see you for just a moment?”
    Trask set the paper aside and stood up, his tall frame nearly touching the low ceiling in the elegantly furnished salon. Silver slipped back inside thecabin and eased the door closed. Picking up the belaying pin, she took her position on the chair and waited till the door swung wide.
    Morgan glanced up just as Silver swung her heavy blow. Cursing, he tried to duck out of the way, but Silver anticipated the move. The blow glanced off the side of his head and onto his shoulder, sending him crashing to the floor.
    Damn!
Silver swore, wishing the blow had done more damage, but she couldn’t bear to hit him again. Morgan sat there groaning, trying to recover. Silver ignored him and raced through the door and into the salon. After stopping to check for the others, she climbed the ladder to the deck, ran to the rail, and climbed over.
    Nothing to it
, she thought with a surge of satisfaction and a last glance over her shoulder to the deck she had left behind. Silver sucked in a breath at the sight of Morgan Trask, racing determinedly along behind her, his face a dark mask of rage.
    Damn her conscience! It was always getting her in trouble. She should have made sure she’d knocked him out cold.
    Silver ran faster, dodging sailors who strolled the dock, flea-bitten mutts that sniffed through rotting garbage, and a doxy or two who busily plied their wares. When she bowled into a woman she hadn’t seen, the whore cursed her soundly, but Silver just kept running. She had to find someplace to hide, some dark alley where the major couldn’t find her.
    Rounding a corner, Silver fought the stitch in her side, the pounding of her heart, and every burning breath she had to take. Her legs were beginning to ache with the powerful effort, and still she drove on. A glance over her shoulder told her she had left the major behind, but she dared not slow.
    Not until an arm snaked out of nowhere, circled her waist, and slammed her up against a rough brick wall.
    Morgan Trask towered above her, his hard body pinning her, his green eyes glinting with rage. Silver struggled against the corded muscles of his chest, tried to duck