His heart stuttered.
Which meant he would talk to her then if he could not tonight. Things had a way of turning out how they were supposed to. He would take the time to get his excitement under control and show her he was not a madman but a playwright. A playwright who, unbeknownst to her, had written a part for which she was perfect.
“Adam, you’re waiting for me. You are surely the sweetest man in the whole of Bath.”
He turned. Monica swept through the doors on Victor’s arm. Adam smiled and offered her his arm too. Her fingers curled around his forearm, her pretty features alight with happiness. “Well, look at me, being escorted by two of Bath’s finest gentlemen.”
“And it is our pleasure. Isn’t that right, Victor?”
“Absolutely.” The director smiled. “Shall I send a message for my carriage or are we happy to walk?”
Monica tugged them closer. “Oh, I’m more than happy to walk and be seen considering my current situation.”
Adam laughed. “You are an outrageous flirt, Miss Danes.”
Her eyes widened. “Says he who is never without an adoring female answering to his every whim.”
Adam pressed his free hand to his chest, feigning offense. “I am desperate for the attention of one woman and one woman only.”
Monica’s eyes sparkled. “Oh? And who would this honored woman be, might I ask?”
He winked. “That is for me to know and the rest of the world to . . .” Adam glanced over her shoulder and pulled his arm from Monica’s hand as Laura came down the steps. He swallowed. “Laura.”
She turned, her eyes widening for a brief moment before she pulled back her shoulders. “Mr. Lacey.”
He blinked and collected himself. He extended his hand toward Monica and Victor. “Might I introduce Monica Danes and Victor Talisman.”
Laura nodded and smiled. “It’s an honor to meet you. The play is excellent.”
“Thank you.” Monica smiled. “You must be the last to leave. We finished well over an hour past.”
Laura glanced toward the ground and back again. “I wasn’t in the audience, Miss Danes. Tonight was my first night working here. I sell sweets and such.”
“Ah, I see. That’s why I haven’t noticed such a pretty girl before.” She tilted her head toward Adam. “As opposed to my fellow actor here, who has clearly noticed you to already know your name.”
The lanterns cast Laura’s face in an amber glow, so Adam couldn’t be sure if she blushed as she dipped her head. “Well, it was lovely to meet you, but I must hurry home. Have a nice evening.”
She moved to leave and Adam stepped forward. “Might I just have a very quick word with you?”
“I’m sorry. I really must—”
“I’ll walk with you.”
She stiffened and glanced toward Monica and Victor before facing him once more. “I thank you, Mr. Lacey, but really, I’m quite all right unaccompanied. Maybe we could talk when I’m next working?”
“Tonight will do just as well.”
Her soft violet eyes turned to hard amethyst under the lamplight. Adam quickly faced Monica and Victor, and bit back the bubble of laughter in his throat at the sight of their identical expressions of interest and curiosity. He bowed slightly.
“I will catch up with you once I have seen Miss Robinson home.”
“Of course.”
“As you wish.”
With a final frown at Adam and a hurried smile at Laura, Monica and Victor strolled away. Satisfied he was finally alone with her ran like hot, honeyed water through Adam’s blood.
“Now then—”
“How dare you.”
He blanched. Her face was set in stone, her eyes flashing a fury he had never encountered in a woman. “Sorry?”
“I said, how dare you.” She poked a finger into his chest. “Let me tell you something, Mr. King of the Theater . . . I might have a lifelong love of the stage, I might have totally and completely fallen in love with the costumes, the atmosphere, even the damn lighting, but no one—not even you—presumes to infringe on my time or company without my say-so. Understand?”
He stared at her lips and he wrapped his hand around the finger at his chest and held it there. “I am pleased to hear you are falling in love with the theater. In fact, I am more than pleased, I am ecstatic.”
Her finger trembled in his grasp, but her gaze never wavered. “And why’s that?”
“Because you belong on that stage. I knew it the moment I saw you.”
She snatched her finger from his hand and huffed. “My God, you really are a piece of work. You must think I was born yesterday.” She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and stepped around him. “I’ll bid you good night.”
“Laura.” His tone was firm. Probably firm enough to ignite that fiery temper of hers to explosion, but there was no way she was leaving. Not yet. He had to at least charm her into liking him more than hating him.
She spun around. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you so intent on seeking my company? If there’s something you want from me, why not be a man and just say it? You’re toying with me like a cat after a mouse. I’ve seen more masculinity in a dog in heat.”
He froze, stunned beyond laughter or offense. Her soft, dulcet tones had changed in her anger to that of an intelligent, knowing, and mature woman way beyond her youthful and beautiful looks. Yet, instead of lessening the fire burning inside him, her displeasure stoked it. Attraction licked at his insides and rode all the way to the center of his stupid chest.
He could not remember when last a female spoke to him in such a way. She was glorious. He laughed. “Well, I guess that told me.”
“I’m serious, Mr. Lacey. For all your success and skill onstage, you know very little of how to treat a woman. I daresay the fancy, rich ladies who seek your company don’t know any better or they’d run the other way.”
The minx no longer scowled or spat feathers. Instead . . . she grinned. His breath caught. Her eyes sparkled and her gorgeous apple cheeks shone with a rich and rosy gleam.
He slowly approached her.
She tilted her chin, her smile still fully in place. “Are you daring to speak with me again?”
He considered every aspect of her face, especially her lips, before coming to a mesmerized stop at those deep violet eyes. “You are—”
The growl from deep within his throat was a new and fearful reaction. His mouth covered hers and he took without thinking. He swallowed her gasp and hitched her tight against him. His hands clasped a waist so tiny, so perfect, it fit in the splay of his hands.
He waited for her shove, her push—her slap, but it didn’t come. Her rigid body turned pliant as the weight of her hands rested on his shoulders. She kissed him back. Matching his need with equal fervor. She moaned into his mouth with a passion that sped his heart. Her hot tongue touched his. The glide of her hands to his neck and hair sent tremors of desire thundering into his cock.
Abruptly, she pulled back. Satisfaction, desire and—dare he think it—need stormed in the depths of her eyes. Her lashes, as dark as night, sparkled with tears that shone like diamonds.
Adam shook his head. “Who are you?”
She grinned and swiped her fingers under her eyes. “More woman than you could ever handle, Mr. Lacey. Good night.”
“Wait.”
She brushed past him, her glorious behind swaying nonchalantly from side to side as she waved and disappeared into the darkness.
Laura pushed the key into the lock of her and Bette’s house. The walk—or run—from the theater had done little to steady her nerves. What had she done? She’d kissed Adam Lacey. No, she hadn’t kissed him. She’d devoured him. Yet, she couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at her lips as she quietly slipped inside.
The breath-stealing emotions had brought tears to her eyes. Tears! Why had she reacted in such a way?
She bent over to untie her boots. I know exactly why. The man kissed me like he wanted to possess me.
The tension between them had been like an exploding stream of fireworks.
Whoosh! Squeal! Bang!
She collapsed onto the bottom stair and covered her mouth with her hand to smother her laughter. Her heart raced, her cunny pulsed. It was a phenomenon. A miracle. She’d risen to his challenge and left him standing on the street alone. Now, though, she ached for more of him. God, she was terrified a man could evoke such need in her, such lack of control.
Her smile vanished as she glanced toward the living-room door. Attraction to Adam Lacey was the last thing she needed or expected. In all her years as a whore, she’d turned numb whenever a cully touched, caressed, or sexed her. Her lack of sexual interest had been enough for Bette to infer on more than one occasion that Laura was meant to be with a woman. Except, of course, Laura always seemed to notice the man who ran the ironmongers down the street. . . .
She shook her head. Noticed him being the important thing. She’d more than noticed Adam Lacey.
The cracking and wheezing of Bette’s coughing roused Laura from her muddled contemplation. She leaped to her feet and hurried into the living room that now also served as Bette’s bedroom.
“Sorry I’m back so late.” Laura sidled onto the bed and lifted a glass of water from the cabinet to her friend’s lips. Bette’s pallor was gray and sheened with sweat. “Here.”
Bette shook her head and flicked her hand, gesturing for Laura to get rid of the glass.
Icy-cold dread seeped into Laura’s stomach. Tiny blobs of blood crusted on Bette’s mouth. She flitted her gaze to the covers to hide her panic. Smears of blood colored the edge of the sheets as though her friend had used them to swipe her mouth.
She looked up. Bette stared at her, tears glazing her eyes.
Laura swallowed. “When did it start?”
“It’s nothing.”
“It is something. It’s something important.” She clasped Bette’s hand. “I need to get the doctor.”
“What you need is to pray to God you don’t get struck down, too, looking after me like this.” Bette closed her eyes.
“I’m in and out of this house so much, there’s little chance of me getting anything from you. Don’t talk daft.” Laura blinked against the hot sting of tears. “I just want to make a wish and have this go away.”
“Isn’t the doc coming tomorrow?”
“First thing.”
“Good, then we’ll worry what this blood means then and not before.”
Laura bit back a sob. What would crying, screaming, or cursing do? Nothing. What would dancing and singing onstage or kissing a star do? Nothing. Heat burned like acid in her heart. She was selfish. Selfish and entirely unfocused on what was important. Bette.
Adam Lacey’s dark brown eyes and heart-melting smile wouldn’t fix her beloved friend. Money, safety, and security were what Bette needed. It was up to Laura to provide that until Bette was well again. Then everything would go back to normal. Back to the two of them against the whole damn world.
A tear dropped onto her clenched hands and Laura whirled away from the bed. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m bored and lonely. Tell me what happened tonight. Did you find a gentleman or, as I asked, land yourself onstage? Which one lucked out?”
“Neither.” Laura squeezed one eye shut. “I kissed Adam Lacey instead.”
“You kissed . . . Well, damn.” Bette rasped out a laugh and Laura turned. She hadn’t seen the wicked light that shone in Bette’s eyes for such a long time. “When you said you were going to go after a gentleman’s protection, I didn’t think it would be the star of the stage.”
Laura smiled. “This isn’t good or funny. What was I thinking? More importantly, what was he thinking?”
“What are you talking about? Have you taken a look in the mirror lately? My God, Laura, you’re prettier than any damn actress, princess, or lady. I give this Adam Lacey credit for seeing that from the moment he laid eyes on you.”
“Or, rather, he could see I was a whore the moment he laid eyes on me.”
“What?”
Laura’s heart thudded with disappointment. “What if he knows what I am?”
“Then better to be protected by the likes of him than Baxter.”
Laura’s stomach twisted and she pressed her hand there. Of course he does. Was he laughing at her when he mentioned her and the stage in the same sentence? “You think that’s it? You think he wants me for his exclusive pleasure?”
“Don’t you?”
A slash of something she didn’t want to contemplate struck her heart. “No, at least I hope not.”
Bette raised an eyebrow. “So, what do you hope?”
Turning away from her friend’s insipid gaze, Laura faced the window. “I don’t know, but I’m not about to become Adam Lacey’s whore, no matter what he might think. I’ve thought about what you said. I’m better than that. Hell, I’m getting too old for that.” She faced Bette. “I did the rounds with Tess. I sold those wares, and laughed and joked with gentlemen and thieves alike. I was good at it. I sold the lot.”
“All of it? Lord, I bet Tess was impressed.”
“She was.” Laura smiled and took some coins from her purse pocket. “Better still, I got enough from my cut to pay for the doctor tomorrow. I loved the atmosphere and listening to the play while I worked. It’s perfect for me. I don’t need to lay with a man anymore. Who knows where my hard work and charm can lead us, huh?”
Bette’s smile was weak, but her eyes shone. “Who knows, indeed?”
Feeling better about the night and managing to ignore her dangerous liaison with Adam Lacey for the moment, Laura made for the door. “I’ll go and boil some milk. It’ll help us sleep better.” She left the room and as the hem of her dress swished against the floorboards, she was reminded of the dress and cape Monica Danes wore when she stood beside Adam on the theater steps.
If Adam saw the dresses Laura wore and where she lived he wouldn’t have the same glint in his eyes or passion in his kiss he’d had earlier.
Laura’s hand shook as she filled a pan with milk and carried it to the stove. Since when had she cared what a dandy or toff thought of where or how she lived? Why had this man tilted her life off-kilter so potently and so suddenly?
Shaking her head, she hurried from the room and up the stairs to her bedroom. She got out of her clothes and into her nightdress, fighting thoughts of Adam Lacey, the theater, the music, and every other damn thing that hummed through her blood like a cruel and insistent reminder of the life she craved.
Ever since she was a young girl, abandoned by her mother and never knowing her father, she’d been drawn to the Theater Royal like a child to a toyshop window.
“You belong on that stage.”
“You need to go there and put yourself onstage.”
Adam’s and Bette’s words reverberated in her ears. The one thing life had taught her was that change happened in a heartbeat, without warning or preparation. Who was to say she wasn’t supposed to be in the theater? Who was to say her life—her whoring—hadn’t prepared her for such an event?
She took a long breath as she closed her bedroom door and descended the stairs. Wasn’t her life a play of the highest drama? First living hand to mouth, she’d eked her way through. Last year brought the gentry into her life under the most unforeseeable circumstances and she’d dealt with it. Done what felt right.
Destiny rolled into a tight ball behind her ribs. Who was she to argue with her lifelong pull toward the theater? Tomorrow it was closed, but for better or worse, she’d go back the day after and embrace whatever it threw at her. Sooner or later, the true motivation of Adam Lacey’s interest would be revealed. Moreover, she’d learn why God had steered her inside the Theater Royal a few days ago rather than years before.
Chapter 6
Laura stared anxiously at Bette as she slept. Her friend’s labored breathing was steady but painful to hear as it eked to and from her tiring lungs. The doctor was due any moment. Laura retur
ned to the window to look out for him. Last night, she’d stupidly thought Bette was taking a turn for the better with all her chatter and challenge about Laura working at the theater. This morning, her friend fared worse than ever.
When she pressed her hand to Bette’s forehead, cheeks, and chest, her skin was hot enough to burn. Her pallor was pasty, and her lips dry and cracked. Refusing to eat and barely taking more than a sip of water at a time, Bette had little to no energy left to fight the bacteria inside her.
The sight of Dr. Penders coming toward the house sent Laura’s heart flying into her throat and she blinked back tears. Please, God, let him have come with a miracle.
His sharp rap at the door snapped her gaze to Bette. She stirred but didn’t wake. Loath to disturb her but knowing the doctor had a job to do, Laura stroked her hand over Bette’s forehead.
“Bette? The doctor’s here.”
“Mmm?”
“The doctor. I’m just going to let him in. He’ll want to talk to you.”
Bette’s eyes slowly opened and her gaze dazed. “Then let him in.”
She squeezed Bette’s hand, then made for the door and yanked it open.
“Dr. Penders, am I glad . . .” Laura’s smile dissolved when she saw who stood behind the doctor, his snidey mouth stretched in a wide grin. “What are you doing here?”
Malcolm Baxter leaned around the doctor, his center-parted, oil-slicked hair making Laura grimace. He smiled, revealing the gap in his upper front teeth. “I saw the doc and thought I’d come and pay Bette a visit.”
Not wanting to cause a ruckus in front of the doctor, Laura fought the urge to smack him in the face. “Well, wasn’t that nice of you.” She turned to the doctor. “Why don’t you go on through? She’s in the living room.”
Dr. Penders removed his black top hat and cast a glance over his shoulder, his mouth twisted with distaste beneath tidy gray whiskers. “I told Mr. Baxter Bette wasn’t up for visitors, but he doesn’t seem to understand basic English.”
Laura smiled. “Then I’ll keep him here until he does.”
The Temptation of Laura Page 5
