Savannah Heat Read Online Free PDF

closet. She liked the tailored lines of his clothes, not foppish but masculine. Several pairs of boots, crafted of fine Spanish leather, had been polished to a glossy sheen. Expensive clothes, she noticed; nothing cheap or shoddy in Morgan Trask’s wardrobe. Nothing shoddy about the way he looked in them either.
    His taste in books was impressive, if he really read them. He had everything from poetry to the latest in medical journals. One drawer held a beautiful conch shell, and there was a belt of heavy Spanish silver. In his trunk at the foot of the bed, she found a lovely string of pearls, obviously meant as a gift, and wondered which of his women he had bought them for.
    Silver felt a twinge of irritation though she wasn’t quite sure why. Pinkard had spoken of the major’s prowess in bed. It was a subject she usually thought of with some distaste, yet in Morgan’s case she found the topic intriguing.
    Instinctively she believed Pinkard was right. She knew some women enjoyed such things, and Morgan Trask was certainly an attractive man. She could still recall the hard muscles of his chest as he had pressed against her on the dock, the corded strength in his arms. It had stirred an odd sensation, one that would bear reflection once she was safely away.
    Searching further, Silver still found nothing that would help her. Instead she found maps of Mexico, several of the Yucatan Peninsula rolled and stored in the bin beside his desk. One envelope held his orders. Silver read them carefully.
    Cotton for sugar, sugar for guns. The major was aiding the Texians. Probably for money, since it appeared he lived not in Texas but in Georgia. Just another bloodsucker. Probably not much different from Ferdinand Pinkard—only a lot better looking.
    Silver thought of how handsome he’d looked standing in the doorway. His clothes fit perfectly, not too tight, yet they left no doubt about the virility of the man who wore them.
    She shook her head, surprised by the train of her thoughts. She’d rarely been attracted to a man. Most reminded her of her father: overbearing and cruel, self-indulgent and dictatorial. The fact was she hadn’t known many, mostly her father and his friends and a few of the servants.
    Of course, Quako was nothing like that. Black as he was, poor and illiterate, Quako was a man among men. Knowing him had given her some small hope that not all members of the male gender were worthless philanderers.
    Silver closed the lid of the trunk and sank down on Trask’s wide bed. She’d been through almost everything and still found nothing that could help her. Then an idea struck, and she slid her arm betweenthe mattress and the head of the berth. As her fingers closed over the handle of a pistol, Silver smiled with satisfaction. A man like Trask was bound to have more than one weapon. He’d just hidden it so long ago he’d forgotten it was there.
    Silver’s smile broadened to a grin, her heartbeat quickening as a new plan formed in her mind. With a flick of her hand, she tossed her heavy pale hair back over her shoulder. Morgan Trask be damned. This time she would get away!
    “Think she’ll settle down now, Major?” Hamilton Riley sat across from him in the salon, sipping a cup of strong black coffee. Most of the crew had returned to help with the unloading and the final preparations to make way. The rest would be back by nightfall.
    “She’d damned well better, if she knows what’s good for her.”
    “I’ve never seen the likes of it.” Riley shook his sandy-haired head. “Most of the women I’ve known would have fainted dead away just at the sight of the three who brought her here.”
    “She’s got guts—I’ll give her that—even if she hasn’t got the sense God gave a wren.”
    “She looks like a woman, but she acts like a man.”
    “It’s hard to believe she’s Mary’s daughter. Mary Hardwick-Jones was as gentle and kind a woman as I’ve ever met.” Morgan scowled. “I don’t think