She shouldn’t have these thoughts. Or feelings. Nathan was…
Tall. Strong. Compelling.
I should be hunting out my father’s kidnappers, not thinking lustful thoughts about a man who is nothing to me.
But was she sure about that? For years, she had imagined all sorts of things about Nathan Hawk. Imagined him kissing her. Imagined him asking to walk with her. Marrying her.
Such stupid dreams. She could not afford such thoughts. She would not be any man’s chattel. She had her own worth as a woman, as a jeweler, and would not be a slave in any marriage. Her father had treated her mother as if she were a jewel in a crown. Precious. And yet the women in their neighborhood were often no more than chattel. She wouldn’t stand for that.
A knock sounded at the door. “’Tis only me, dearie.”
Rose wrapped the damp linen around herself. “Come in.”
The door opened to Alice’s cheery disposition. “I’ve found some of me boy Mickey’s clothes from when he was a lad. They’re a bit worn but clean and should fit you.” She handed over a folded pair of trousers, shirt and a patched woolen jacket. “If you’re wearing men’s clothes, you’ll need a cap to cover that gorgeous hair of yours.” Alice took out a cap from her apron pocket and passed it over. “Men lust after such beautiful hair. I’m surprised you’re not married already.”
“I’ll not be a wedded slave,” Rose countered, placing the clothes on the chair.
Alice’s brows lifted. “You think it slavery?”
“Working from dawn to dusk as an unpaid skivvy.”
“Ah, but then you get to sleep aside them, and well…” Her cheeks turned an even redder shade than they already were. “That makes up for all the hard work. Having the man you love give you a cuddle each night.” Alice sighed theatrically, flapping a hand in front of her face to act as a fan. She offered a wicked smile. “Listen to me. Anyone would think I’m in the first flush of love. But it does make it all worthwhile. Harry may be a bossy old coot, but I still love ’im after all these years, and he can still set my heart aflutter.”
Aflutter? Rose couldn’t imagine Floyd setting her heart aflutter. All she’d been able to do was smell the stink of sweat from him being so close to the fire pit as he’d forged the horse’s shoes. She’d imagined all the washing she’d have to do. No, nothing had fluttered on his account.
What about Nathan? Everything flutters when I see him.
No, it didn’t. Rose’s silent denial proved fruitless. She knew the truth. But Nathan Hawk was not reliable. He’d already stolen into the night once before. What was to stop him from doing that again? And what about this secret past of his?
“Your Nathan is sure to set your heart a thumping.”
Absolutely. “Oh no, he’s not my Nathan.”
Alice’s surprise was obvious. “Really? Now that is such a shame. He’d make any woman’s toes curl. Just imagine.” She chuckled and fanned her face again. “Oh my, and me old enough to be his ma.”
Unbidden heat scalded a path across Rose’s cheeks, her nipples pebbling beneath the linen wrapped around her. That was the darn problem. Imagining was all she did, and she shouldn’t even do that.
“He’s not my man and not likely to be. Nathan Hawk is…” Rose’s toes curled, and she found herself looking down at her feet. Words stilled on her tongue.
Alice’s gaze followed hers. “Told you so.”
“No. It can’t be. I can’t. He’s not reliable.”
“Sometimes the adventurous ones are the best. They give us a bit of excitement.”
“Until they leave.”
“Ah, but that’s the point. If they’re the right ones, they don’t leave.”
“Exactly.” Nathan had already left once, so that proved her point. The man would never be the right one.
And I believe this?
She had to. She couldn’t be adventurous and just leave. She had her father to think of, to take care of. That was more important than some silly infatuation that wouldn’t last.
After Alice left, Rose dressed quickly, then headed downstairs, worry churning. What now? Where were they to go?
Rolling up the legs of her trousers so she didn’t fall flat on her face, she tucked in the shirt and pulled the belt an extra notch tighter so they didn’t slip down her hips.
As much as she would prefer to give Nathan a wide berth, she headed downstairs nevertheless. They needed to talk about their next move. Maybe Harry’s contacts had come up with more information on the whereabouts of Prince Randolph’s lair.
She found Nathan in the bar, drink in hand, and by the way his eyes glinted as she walked in and he spied her, this wasn’t his first. “We need to talk.”
“I’m having a drink.”
“Bring it with you.”
“See, Harry. Told you. A regular bossy boots.”
Some of the patrons ceased their talking when they realized there was something more interesting to look at—her and Nathan. Rose leaned into him. “Nathan, not here. Please.”
“I’m busy.” A hiccup burst from his lips. “Going to have a bath soon. Care to scrub my back?” He swayed on his stool. One whiff of his whiskey-coated breath confirmed his inebriation.
“You’re drunk, and no, I don’t want to scrub any part of you.”
His offered a broad grin. “Shame. Could be fun. I could have scrubbed your back if you’d let me.”
“Over my dead body,” she whispered, leaning nearer. It wasn’t the whiskey that unsettled her, but his closeness, his body heat warming her right through her borrowed clothing. She tugged the oversized jacket tighter, wanting to hide her aroused body from his view. “We have to decide our next move.”
“Oh, I know a move.” He struggled off his seat and wrapped her in his arms, an embrace that forced her up against his length.
With a gasp, she recognized his arousal pressed against her. “Let me go, or you’ll regret it.”
“Already do. Shouldn’t have come back.”
Rose snorted. “How true. You’re drunk.”
He smiled down at her, and something in her stomach did a flip. “Yep. I guess I am.”
“So I’m not going to get any sense out of you, am I?”
“Nope.”
“Just as I thought. You’re unreliable. Is it any wonder…?” She shook her head, disappointed with him, and stepped away.
Nathan stumbled after her, falling at her feet. “Hey, squirt, you look kinda tall from down here. Funny that, when I know you’re not. Just curvy in all the right places. ” He held a hand up to her.
She ignored it, refusing to be baited in public, when what she wanted to do was give him a piece of her mind.
He hauled himself to his feet and offered her a lopsided grin. “You know any man would want to run his hands through that lusssssh hair of yours.”
“Nathan, be quiet.”
“Nope. Can I?”
Rose’s brow creased. Lord, she needed to get him out of this place. “Can you what?”
“Run my fingers through your hair.”
A burst of laughter circled the room. “’Ey, we got a queer one ’ere.”
Nathan rotated to face the speaker, grabbing at a chair in front of him as his lack of balance threatened. “Look closer, my friend, for squirt here is not what you think. Beneath the disguise is…”
Rose elbowed him. “Shut up, Nathan. Just shut up.”
“Ow.” He theatrically rubbed at his side. “Your elbow is mightier than the sword, sweet Rosie.” He offered a mock bow, but as he did, his hand swiped at her cap and knocked it from her head. It fell to the floor, and her hair unfurled around her shoulders.
Whistles echoed around the room. “A girl,” someone exclaimed.
“That’s right.” Nathan smiled to the patrons. He saluted her.
Rose snatched up her cap and jammed it back on her head, tucking her hair beneath as best she could. “You just wait, Nathan.”
“Yes, ma’am, whatever you say.”
A shout from a patron came from the other side of the room. “Nah, mate, don’t let her boss you around.”
“Already does. She may be small, but she’s got a temper.”
“All the better to control her.” The man emptied his tankard.
“Aye, probably a firecracker in bed,” another added to several nods of the men nearby.
Rose had had enough. “If you want to wallow in booze, then so be it.” She sidestepped him, and, head held high and refusing to make eye contact with the other patrons, she walked to the door that led into the back room.
“Wait.” Nathan’s call stalled her midstride. She turned to face him. He stood now, propped against the bar. “Sorry.”
“So you ought to be.”
“Don’t apologize,” said one.
Rose shot the man a scathing glare. “Is it any wonder you are here, sir? Your wife has probably tossed you out, given your propensity to over-imbibe.”
The man, who’d lifted his tankard for another sip, stilled for a moment, then lowered his ale to the table.
“Aye, Fergus, the girl’s summed you right up.” His friend chuckled.
Fergus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, dropping his gaze from hers. “Shut up, you lot. Me Polly knows what’s good for her.”
“And that, I would hope, is not you.” Rose turned back to Nathan. “What do you want?”
“Your help.”
“Why?”
“I do fear, squirt, if I let go of this bar, I’ll fall flat on my face.”
“Again.”
He offered her a crooked half smile. “Hmmm. It is a problem.”
“Self-induced.”
“So it seems.” He held a hand out to her.
Rose hesitated. “If I had any sense, I’d leave to your consequences.”
“You wouldn’t, would you?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“Ah, squirt, have pity on me. Besides, I thought we were a pretty good team.”
“A team means the other person is reliable, and you’re drunk and as much use as a wet blanket right now.”
“Sorry.”
She shook her head. “Yes, yes. Come on.” She grabbed his arm and hooked it with hers as he finally let go of the bar.
“But you are always reliable.”
Nathan leaned into her, his warmth permeating her clothing once more. She held herself rigid, however, refusing to let him in. Refusing to acknowledge the desire that warmth ignited.
Back in the small room, she saw that Alice had already left for upstairs. There was a patchwork quilt on the sofa beside the fire. “I think that’s for you.” Rose led Nathan to the warmth of the fire.
“Wanna join me?” Nathan’s words slurred as he teetered precariously.
“Not in this lifetime.” Rose let go of his arm, and he toppled backward onto the sofa.
He stared up at her, his eyes glazed. “You sure are preeetty.” He hiccupped.
“And you are very drunk. Don’t ask for sympathy in the morning.”
“You going? Aren’t you going to play nursemaid?”
Saying nothing, she lifted his legs up to the sofa, and at the same time, Nathan fell back, hitting his head against the armrest. “Ow.”
“Serves you right. Maybe that will knock some sense into your pickled brain.”
“Hope so. Can’t go having lustful thoughts.”
Lustful? Oh dear God.
Rose busied herself easing off Nathan’s boots, then opened up the blanket and laid it over him. “Go to sleep, Nathan.”
“How about a kiss good night.” He puckered up and blew an air kiss. He smiled, and though he was drunk and she should be disgusted with him, he’d never looked sweet and more charming or like his old self, so funny and lighthearted.
Rose’s tummy twisted into knots again. She might want to kiss him, but she wouldn’t. She pulled herself up straight and pushed her shoulders back, reaffirming her resolve. She would not get sucked into those thoughts and needs. They weren’t important. Saving her father was. She sniffed at the alcohol-tainted air. “I don’t kiss drunks.”
“Aw, that’s not fair.”
“Who said life was fair?” And with that, she turned on her bare heel and left Nathan to sleep it off.
She’d only reached the doorway when she heard his soft whisper. “Maybe you’ll kiss me in the morning.”
No. No. No. That was not going to happen.
In bed, she tried to sleep, but that proved impossible as thoughts and memories of kisses teased her constantly.
Rose went over and over the day’s events. Meeting the ruler of Zarrenburg, and the shock that her father and the princess had once been lovers.
She presumed that was why her father had spoken very little over the years about his life back in his homeland. Did her father still love the princess? And what did that mean about his life with her mother?
But she couldn’t think of those things and rolled over, yanking the covers over her head. She’d witnessed with her own eyes the love her parents had for each other, a love that had lasted until the day her mother died. Alex Valetta still missed his wife terribly—even after all the years since her death.
And then there was Prince Randolph… Somehow he was involved.
Chapter Twelve
Morning came, the day bright and cheery. From her bed, Rose could hear Alice’s singsong voice.
She tossed back the bedcovers, then poured a small measure of water into the bowl and quickly rinsed her face before she dressed in her men’s garb. She ran her fingers through her hair and twisted it up in a knot, tucking a few pins in to hold it in place. She glanced in the small cheval mirror at herself.
Would any man ever want her? Hold her?
Nathan?
Enough! Rose spun from her reflection. She didn’t want to be held. And definitely not by Nathan Hawk!
Oh, Rosie Valetta, you are such a liar.
Striding to the door, she yanked it open and headed downstairs.
Alice greeted her with a beaming smile. “Morning, lovey. I’ve a bowl of hot oats ready for you in a moment, though it might be a while until that one over there surfaces.” She nodded toward a sleeping Nathan.
Rose tried to be angry with him. Tried hard.
Still sprawled out on the sofa, with his eyes closed, he looked…oh dear God, he looked handsome and strong and…
Stop it! Right now!
Cautioning herself against any weakness, she strode over to where he lay. “Not if I can help it.” With one quick tug, she yanked the blanket from him. “Get up, lazy bones.”
Nathan slid half off the sofa. “Bloody hell, woman, do you have to shout?”
“Not if you get up, I don’t.” She yanked his feet from the sofa.
“Sweet mercy.” He screwed his eyes closed.
“I told you last night you’d get no sympathy from me.”
“I remember.”
“And do you remember we have a diamond to find, and my father? You lying here because you can’t handle your drink is not helping.”
“Can I plead that I was thinking of our next move?”
Rose snorted at that. “Highly unlikely. You were dead asleep with your gob open. Not a pretty sight, I must say.”
Nathan opened one eye slowly, then the other. “While you, on the other hand, are a pleasing sight, eyes all wide and indignant.”
Rose’s heart skipped a beat.
“Did you know such angst puts a rather becoming shade of pink into your cheeks, and your eyes have darkened to almost purple?”
Alice chuckled. “Just what a girl wan
ts to hear from her sweetheart.”
Rose rounded on her, hands on hips, indignation in her tone. “He is not my sweetheart.”
“Oh, you don’t have to hide it, lovey. Harry and I were that adamant once too, only I changed my mind.”
“I won’t be changing mine.”
“Shame,” Nathan murmured.
Rose kicked out at Nathan’s shin and connected.
“Ow.” He reached down to rub his shin. “You sure know how to kick a dog when he’s down.”
“Dog being the appropriate word here.” Rose reached for the still-warm pot of tea on the wooden table and poured two cups. She heaped several spoonfuls of sugar into one and passed it to Nathan.
“I don’t take sugar.”
“You do now. It’ll wake you up.”
Alice placed the food on the table. “Right-o, here’s two bowls to get you started. There’s some bacon and eggs coming.”
Nathan groaned. “I’m sure it’s lovely, but I don’t think I can stomach food.” He shot to his feet.
“Out there.” Alice pointed.
Nathan all but wrenched open the door that led out back and only just made it as he heaved his guts onto the cobbled backyard.
Rose shook her head. “Serves him right.”
Alice dropped two eggs into the spluttering fry pan. “He’s young.”
“He should know better.” It was obvious he was hungover, and, despite herself, she reached for a cloth from the tub, soaked it in cold water and then wrung it out. She handed it to Nathan as he walked back inside.
He took it and dabbed at his face. “I thought you weren’t going to play nursemaid.”
“I’m not, but the faster you get yourself together, the quicker we can get out and do what we must.”
Nathan pursed his lips, eyes suddenly somber. He handed her back the cloth. “We need to speak to Harry. He’ll have some ideas, hopefully. He has lots of contacts.”
As if he’d heard his name, Harry walked through the door. “Right, that’s the new delivery taken care of.”
“Well, sit yourself down, the three of you.” Alice wagged the wooden spoon at Nathan. “And no protest from you, my lad. The best thing for that head—and stomach—of yours is a good solid meal.”
To Love a Thief (Steel Hawk) Page 13
