Tempted by His Touch: A Limited Edition Boxed Set of Dukes, Rogues, & Alpha Heroes Historical Romance Novels

by Darcy Burke

  If he was truly Jasper Finn, he had operated with planning and an attention to detail that would have befitted a man framing another for murder.

  “Bloody by-blow, I’ll kill him.” She snatched the page from her lap and flung it forward.

  Sally’s brows knitted. She folded the scraps of paper carefully and tucked them back into her dress. Those drawings were probably the only things she had that were truly her own. She ran a hand across her threadbare dress, playing with the seams. “Miss, I don’t mean no disrespect.”

  All evidence pointed to Owen—Jasper Finn—keeping watch over her. Kate sighed. “I don’t mean you, Miss Fletcher. It’s…I know that man. Or at least, I thought I did.”

  Sally nodded sagely. “’Tis oft the case.”

  Kate crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself. If she had not been saved that day, she’d be like Sally…it was pointless to dwell on memories.

  Sally broke the silence. “’E’s not been by in a fortnight.”

  “If you hear word that he’ll be by again, will you contact me?” Daniel asked. When Sally nodded, he gave her the address to Madame Tousat’s. He looked at his pocketwatch and signaled to Kate. Their time was reaching a close.

  From his purse, he withdrew four pence and slipped the coins to Sally. “Don’t let Wilkes know you have that. We’re rightly appreciative of your time.”

  Sally’s face lit up with a gentle smile. For the first time in probably months, she might eat a decent dinner tonight.

  Kate reached out, taking Sally’s hand in her and squeezing it. “Bless you,” she said.

  Sally pressed her hand before releasing it. “Find out who killed ’im, Miss.”

  “We won’t stop until we do,” Daniel vowed. His determination echoed in Kate’s ears. After meeting with Sally, she didn’t doubt that he would do anything to prove his innocence. He had made the prostitute a promise, like he made to his sister Poppy.

  But he’d promised to stay with her forever too.

  They slipped out the door and down the hallway. Daniel kept his head down, the collar of his coat pulled up to cover his neck and part of his ears. He tugged the brim of his hat low across his brow and she did the same with her bonnet, shading her eyes.

  Down the hall, a door opened. Into the lamp-lit gallery stepped a curvaceous blonde woman, dressed a step above the other women in a purple bodice with a lace-trimmed black skirt. Her green eyes gleamed shrewdly as she caught sight of them.

  The prostitute didn’t advance. As they passed by her, Kate locked eyes with the woman. Her stomach roiled, for the woman’s gaze was cold, deadened, as if her soul had been ripped from her years ago and she’d given up trying to retrieve it.

  “Amelia!” A male voice called.

  He comes to lay with Amelia. So Sally had said about Jasper Finn. Kate grabbed hold of Daniel’s arm, tugging him down the hall and not stopping until they reached the alleyway outside the brothel. If Finn hadn’t already known they were here, she suspected he would now from Amelia.

  ***

  Daniel paid the fare and stepped onto the platform. It swayed under his weight. The bright moon lit every uneven plank, leaving no room for doubt on the unsteadiness of the ferry.

  “She’s a safe one,” the ferryman promised, with a cheeky smile that displayed his crooked, gnarled teeth.

  Daniel sincerely doubted that. He helped Kate onto the ferry and breathed a sigh of relief. They were the only passengers for this night journey. The fewer people who saw him in England, the better.

  Kate rubbed her hands up and down her arms, cracked leather against the wool of her greatcoat. The blistering wind sliced at them; it had only gotten worse as the night fell. Daniel unwound the red woolen scarf around his neck and handed it to her. She took it, a small grateful smile playing on her lips when she’d finished tying it about her neck.

  Jacob’s Island was falling to pieces around them, yet Kate was radiant. The brisk gale had given her cheeks a rosy glow. She held on to her straw bonnet against the wind with one hand, and she wore the blue plaid dress underneath her father’s greatcoat. He envisioned stripping her of that large, battered coat in her rooms that night, so that she was once again the woman he’d fallen in love with, free of the trappings of the past.

  He plucked at his Belcher, readjusting the fall of the cloth against his neck. He’d babbled on when they were dockside about everything but what he really wanted to discuss. Kate had stood stock still, her expression unreadable. He should know exactly what to say to prompt her to open up, but he didn’t. Not anymore—maybe not ever.

  “I’m sorry about Sally Fletcher.”

  “As am I.” She looked out at the water, eyes narrowed like she was disappointed the mud-clogged Thames didn’t magically reveal all its secrets to her. She leaned against the rickety rail, her palms gripping the wood.

  “Once we get my name cleared, if there’s anything I can do for her, I will. Maybe she’d like a new profession. I don’t believe that’s all there can be for her in this life.”

  Kate’s head tilted toward his. “An odd belief for a man.”

  “Are you surprised because it’s me saying this, or because you’ve grown to think that no one will ever understand the problems a woman alone has to face?” He covered her hand with his own. She didn’t pull back, yet her mouth tilted downward. He didn’t blame her. She had no reason to forgive him. “You’re strong, and you made something of yourself despite these circumstances. Who’s to say Miss Fletcher couldn’t do the same? Everyone deserves a second chance, love.”

  “I’m different from Sally. And don’t call me love.”

  He turned his head to look her in the eye, the haunting darkness of her face startling him. Devil take it, the visit to the brothel had stricken her. His stomach churned. The selfish part of him couldn’t help but be grateful she’d gone with him, for he doubted Sally would have ever spoken so frankly about her past lover if Kate hadn’t been there.

  Kate swallowed. “Sally never had a choice. I’d venture she was a child thief before graduating to prostitution. She’d be in too deep to get out before then. But me—I’ve done things, kept things to myself, looked the other way.” Her other hand extended to touch her lip, where he’d kissed her days before.

  “Steady now, lass, we are all in some way victims of our circumstances. We all make mistakes. Don’t trouble yourself with the past, unless you intend on making good on something. The rest, it’s all stuff and nonsense.” He moved to slide his fingers in between hers, clasping their hands together. With God as his witness, he’d never let her be hurt again.

  “Kate, the life you’ve led here, it can’t have been easy. If things happened, you can tell me. I’ll listen.” His voice shook. He sounded too Irish, too raw, but he couldn’t be bothered to be anything but a broken Teague.

  She wrenched her fingers from his, her eyes flashing twin warning signs. “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

  “I know. Hell, I watched you start a bar brawl.” Daniel forced out a laugh in a fruitless attempt to cut the tension. He felt the absence of her closeness like the worst of hangovers, a pounding in his head and a seizing of his gut.

  His throat was dry for the burn of gin. It’d make everything better, at least for a short while, and he’d be able to fathom what had happened to her.

  A minute passed and then another, the whistling wind surrounding them. Illuminated by the moon, she looked fiercer than ever, her high cheekbones emphasized. Water lapped against the wooden planks as the ferryman steered them closer to a shoreline Daniel had once hoped would welcome him.

  Daniel moved closer. When everyone else had shunned him, he’d found a home away from home in her arms before.

  She didn’t say anything as she leaned back, gloves wrapped around the wood of the railing. For a second her eyes closed and she breathed in deep. The wind roared, cold blasts that ate up his words.

  “Your friend—Owen,” he started, not knowing how to finish the t
hought.

  She opened her eyes, lips pressed into a firm line. “He’s no friend of mine now.”

  Daniel frowned. “I’m concerned he knows where you live. Maybe we should have Atlas find you a new place.”

  “Not exactly. He knows the building, but there are at least sixty flats in my lodgings. He has no idea which one.”

  Worry flickered in Daniel’s eyes, unconvinced by her explanation. “Perhaps we should still look into moving you.”

  “I’m not leaving my flat.” She shook her head. “All my stuff’s there. It’s my home, Daniel, and I refuse to part with it. Besides, Finn has apparently been watching me for all this time. He doesn’t know that we’re aware of his true identity. If I suddenly disappear, doesn’t that bring more suspicion onto me?”

  Daniel let out a sigh, but he nodded. “I suppose that makes sense. But I don’t prefer it.”

  “You don’t have to,” she said. His preferences meant little, or so she kept trying to persuade herself.

  “I have a confession to make.” He leaned against the rail next to her, shoulder to shoulder. If he thought she’d allow it, he would take her in his arms, breath in the jasmine scent of her hair and know that everything would be fine. “I asked Atlas to look into Owen Neal.”

  “You did what?” Her body shifted to angle toward him stiffly.

  “I didn’t know about him being Jasper Finn. If I had, I would have told you immediately.” He squeezed the rail in his hands, holding on to it for support. “If he hurt you, I’ll kill him.”

  “The bastard didn’t do anything but lie to me.” The edge to her voice told him she classed him in the same category as Owen Neal.

  “I don’t regret the interference. This place eats at me—even the damned dead aren’t safe from disturbance. The thought of the months you’ve spent here, in part because of my actions…” He looked out across the water, murky and dark. A lone top boot—perhaps taken from a corpse and lost in transit—floated in the gently lapping waves. It was coated in thick, black mud.

  “And I confess I was jealous of the bounder, for getting to be near you, for seeing your smile when all you did was glare at me.” His knuckles whitened as he gripped the rail harder. Gripped it as though it was her body, and in her arms he found safe harbor.

  “He was nothing to me,” she said.

  He doubted that, after seeing them together. Her smile had been radiant. But if she wanted to believe Owen had no place in her life, he wouldn’t stop her.

  “After I stopped drinking, Poppy said the only way I’d find peace is if I accepted what had happened to me.” He leaned back against the rail, surveying Kate. “I could move on then, start making sense of my life. At the time, that motivated me—I wanted to be something other than the miserable sod I’d become. But now, I think there are things in life we shouldn’t have to accept. That we should fight against with every gram of our being. If someone hurt you, I’m not going to think that’s acceptable.”

  “Don’t talk like that, like I’m better than you. I’m no saint. You should know that by now.” She didn’t look his way as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

  Bugger. After seeing how Sally Fletcher lived, how could he possibly think she’d done something wrong in fencing goods? She’d done what she had to survive.

  God, he admired her.

  “When I judged you for picking Atlas’s lock, I shouldn’t have. It’s a damned treacherous slope to be on the wrong side of the law. Wondering if you’re going to end up in the gallows, everyone you’ve ever known attending your hanging like the newest spot of entertainment at Covent Garden. But you didn’t succumb to that terror. You’ve thrived in your new surroundings.” Brazenly, he chucked her chin, holding on a moment too long.

  “Thank you.” For a second, her gaze fastened up on him with something akin to devotion.

  Could it be? He blinked and she had already pulled back from him. Her fingers traced the cast-in anchor and Greek letter for E on the bronze buttons of her inherited greatcoat.

  The outline of the London Docks appeared in the distance, the many colored flags on the ships like a kaleidoscope of nationalities. He breathed in, then out, searching the black sky for the familiar gold of the Emporia flag only to remember that flag would never again grace the shoreline.

  Perhaps they’d never escape the memory of Morgan and his company.

  Her hand brushed against his arm as she moved to disembark, so casually that he almost forgot where he was. They stood on the Gauging Ground in the western docks, facing the complex labyrinth of warehouses and sheds. Kate turned toward the warehouses.

  “Good night, Daniel.” She looked over her shoulder and gave a nod clearly meant to dismiss him. She started to walk away.

  He had become used to her running away and matched her stride easily. “Where do you think you are going?”

  “Home.” She shook off his hold yet didn’t move forward. “I don’t need an escort. I practically lived at the docks. I should think I know my way to Ratcliffe Highway by now.”

  “It is at least a half hour’s walk. There is no way I am going to let you do that by yourself.” He set his jaw and shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. If he had to stand out here all night in the frigid air in an argument with her about her independence, he would.

  Kate’s hands formed fists held down at her sides, likely in debate if she should punch him or shoot him. She shook her head and then bit out a short, “Fine.”

  ***

  From the docks they hired a passing hack. Sitting in the bench seat across from Daniel, Kate couldn’t focus on his attempts at light conversation. Eventually, he lapsed into silence, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. As the carriage pulled up in front of her lodgings, she sneaked a glance at him. His eyes were half-closed, only a slit of emerald visible in the dim light from the street lamps. She shouldn’t care what he thought, shouldn’t wonder if he’d meant what he said out on the ferry.

  If someone hurt you, I’m not going to think that’s acceptable.

  She ached to believe him, for then it would mean that someone understood her pain. That in itself was frightening; enough that she started to doubt the veracity in his statements. People said things they didn’t mean—he’d think her changed, broken.

  She would never be a victim again.

  The carriage door opened. Daniel jumped down and reached in to hand her to the ground. Hesitating in the doorway, Kate held her breath as he stood in front of her, his intense gaze on her face. Dread filled her, this sensation that if she stepped from this hack all would change between them. Somehow, in some uncertain way, she’d lose her grip on reality as she knew it.

  At her hesitation, he grasped her arm, tugging her out and onto the ground. He didn’t release her until she stood upright, feet planted steadily on packed snow.

  Damn him and his ability to know what she needed.

  They stood outside her lodgings as the hack drove away. A gust of wind wafted the red wool scarf against her cheek. Daniel’s scarf. Another indication of his kindness that she did not want. Had she learned nothing in two and a half years? Kindness from a man most often meant they wanted something from her. Quickly, Kate unwound the scarf and handed it back to him. His nose wrinkled as he took it from her, but he didn’t comment. He still had some tact, while she felt stripped of all decorum.

  “Shall I see you tomorrow?” He wrapped the scarf back around his neck, over top of the blue Belcher.

  “No.”

  “What about the day after?”

  “No.”

  He reached for her arm and she skidded away from his touch. That was the last thing she needed. She turned and started to walk toward the building, three steps from the door before he called to her.

  “Kate, wait. Have I done something to upset you?” His boots crunched against the snow as he advanced.

  “It’s been a long night, and I am fatigued.” If she were tougher, she’d not turn around to face him. She’
d run into the boarding house and lose him in the warren layout.

  “That is not what ails you, and you know it.” Daniel’s brows knit. He stepped to the right, positioning himself in front of the door.

  “Get out of the bloody way,” she demanded.

  When he did not move, Kate threw her weight into his side, smacking into him with such force that he budged from the entrance. He spun her around so her front was against his back, his arm across her middle to keep her still. She pushed at his arm, slapped at his hands, as fear bubbled in her mind. Fear that she’d be trapped forever, subject to another man’s demands.

  Trapped like she’d been before on that cruel night.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, love.” His soft words were a balm to her tired soul; at once what she needed and what she hated needing.

  Her bonnet tilted precariously. He reached up, setting her hat in place. She relaxed against his hard-muscled chest. The brush of his breath against her ear sent a shiver up her spine. Suddenly being so close to him was imminently dangerous, not for how her body might betray her but for the truth she might reveal.

  In any decision, Katiebelle, weigh the odds. People rarely change.

  What if Papa was wrong, as he’d been about the investments he made for Emporia? Hearts were breakable and fickle, but the memory of her father had always been steadfast until a week prior. He couldn’t have been involved with Jasper Finn’s resurrection men. It simply wasn’t possible.

  Yet if everything Papa owned hadn’t been tied up in the company, she’d not have ended up in the rookeries in the first place.

  “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, love, but you can’t push me away.” Daniel hugged her tighter to him.

  She didn’t want to feel safe in his arms. Kate slipped from his hold to stand away from him. She watched his expression change in the street lamp from one of determination to concern.

  Her heart thumped against her chest. No matter how she tried to fight him, he’d keep prying until he learned her secret.