by Joanna Shupe
When she turned, her smile spread wide, transforming her face into something breathtaking. Something transcendent. He suddenly needed to lean down and kiss her, to taste her joy, and he fought hard to remain still instead.
She waited for you to return. She waited, you idiot.
Why was it beginning to feel as if he’d lost the best thing that would ever happen to him?
* * *
“Did you hear what I said?” Lily frowned at Calvin, who was currently staring off into the distance with a strange look on his face. “I am walking over to see Petey.”
Hugo elbowed his friend, trying to shake Calvin loose from his thoughts, but Lily didn’t wait. She lifted her skirts out of the dirt and marched toward the tiny structure.
With the railroad and shipping companies closed for the night, most of the buildings on South Street were dark. A few lights burned, however, including one inside Petey’s cabin. Lily hoped this meant the junkman was home.
Junkmen picked through sand, mud, and trash to salvage scraps of anything they could find near the water: iron, silver, kitchen items, anything that might fetch a coin or two. Though she’d never met a junkman, the occupation could not be an easy one. They dwelled in the underbelly of a city, in the castoffs and refuse, death and destruction, in the hope of turning a profit.
Calvin’s hand on her arm pulled her to a halt. “Wait, let me speak with him first.”
Instantly wary, she cocked her head. Calvin never did anything without an ulterior motive. “Why?”
“Because he may have a pistol and shoot through the door first. I’ve already been shot at once this week and survived. I feel lucky.”
A laugh bubbled up, but she forced it down. Whatever happened, she must remain immune to his humor and charm. “Fine, but I’m not leaving until I’ve spoken with him.” Calvin hadn’t wanted her to exit the carriage, so she wouldn’t be surprised if he found a way to conduct the interview without her.
Calvin’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t argue. He strode to the door and banged on it. “Petey, are you in there?”
No answer. After a few seconds Calvin knocked again, louder. “Petey!”
“Who wants to know?” a deep voice called from within.
“Calvin Cabot, publisher of the New York Mercury. I need a quick word.”
Lily heard shuffling from inside and within seconds the door opened. An older man stood there, white hair poking out from a floppy hat, a matching mustache surrounding an unsmiling mouth. A lit pipe rested between his fingers, the smell of tobacco wafting out of the small shack. She peered around him and noticed the chaos of the shack’s interior, with bric-a-brac covering all the available space. How did he move around in there?
Petey’s eyes shifted between her and Calvin. “What do you want? And who’s she?”
Calvin glanced over his shoulder and frowned. “I thought we agreed you were to stay back,” he murmured to Lily.
“I never agreed,” she said, then faced the junkman. “Petey, there was a yacht being repaired over there”—she pointed in the direction of the empty space near the water—“last week. Do you happen to know when it sailed off?”
“I know lots of things about these docks, miss. Just not sure why I’d tell you.”
“Because your friend over there said you would help us.”
Petey shoved the pipe stem in his mouth and puffed. “What friend? I don’t have any friends.”
Lily started to indicate the harmonica player, but Calvin reached inside his coat and took out his billfold. “He wants money, Lily.”
Oh. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Calvin began to withdraw a few bills when Petey said, “I’d rather have that fancy bracelet.”
Lily held up her wrist, where a diamond and sapphire bracelet rested. “If I give you the bracelet, you’ll tell me what you know about the ship?”
Petey nodded, so Lily removed the jewelry and passed it over. He ran his fingers over the stones, then shoved the piece into his front pocket.
“Now, the ship?” Calvin asked.
“Left three nights ago, about one o’clock. Not many on board. A few people, I think, but I couldn’t see all their faces.”
“Any idea where they were going?”
“I heard one of the crew say Rhode Island.”
So it was as they’d suspected. Tom had taken the girl to Newport, where it would be easy to hide her in a big house.
“Thank you, Petey. You’ve been very helpful.”
Petey touched the brim of his cap and started to close the door. Without warning, Calvin shoved his boot in the gap, preventing the door from closing. Petey’s bushy white brows rose, his mouth flat and hard. “You best remove your foot, sir, before I take off your toes.”
“I’ll remove my foot when you tell me the truth.”
“The truth? You think I’m lying?”
“Calvin,” Lily said gently. “I think Petey has told us all he knows.”
“Like hell,” Calvin growled, staring down the junkman. “I’m not leaving until Petey tells us about the other men who were here. The Chinese men asking about the ship.”
“What other men? Calvin, you are acting crazy.” She shifted toward Petey, about to apologize when she saw the truth on the junkman’s face. “Petey, were there other men here asking about the yacht?”
“Listen here, I don’t have to tell you nothin’.” Petey tried to slam the door once more—but Calvin’s foot held strong.
Calvin rocked forward, his arm shooting out to punch the door open and push Petey inside. Calvin followed, grabbing the front of Petey’s shirt. “That bracelet she gave you is worth thousands of dollars. Much more valuable than that sword.” He tilted his head toward a Chinese sword propped up against the wall. “And I’ll use that sword to remove that bracelet, along with whatever body parts get in the way, if you don’t answer my question.”
He leaned into Petey’s grizzled face. “Tell me about the men who were here.”
Chapter Eight
The carriage clattered along the deserted New York streets, frustration and panic gnawing at Lily’s insides. Petey hadn’t confessed much, merely that some Chinese men had also come seeking the information on the yacht. Calvin had pressed Petey for what the junkman had told his Chinese visitors, but Petey denied telling them anything. They all knew the sword had been left in exchange for keeping watch at the docks in case the yacht returned. With nothing else to discover, she and Calvin had returned to the carriage and started north.
Chasing after Tom felt like running on ice. The more Lily learned, the more complex and confusing the situation became. So Tom had squired Lee’s daughter to Newport and Lee’s men were aware of it. Had her brother lost his mind?
She studied Calvin’s brooding face. “We need to get to Newport. Quickly.”
One brown brow lifted. “I think you mean you need to get to Newport.”
She should have known he’d try to quit, the selfish cad. “I still need your help, Calvin.”
“No, you don’t. You wanted to find your brother. Well, he’s in Newport. That seems to solve most of your problems.”
“Some, but not all. What if I need help with Lee’s daughter? What if Lee’s men get to him before I do? What if—”
“Lily, stop. Lee’s men cannot traipse about Newport easily. That town is not like New York. A Chinese man is unable to move about freely there—hell, I can barely move about freely there, not without a yacht and a diamond tiara.”
“You say that as if you’re poor when we both know that’s far from the truth. I’m surprised you don’t have a house there, actually.”
He made a noise in the back of his throat. “Own a house and use it only a few weeks out of the year? The idea is preposterous. Besides, I travel enough between New York and Chicago. I don’t have time for vacations.”
This man, the one with such drive and dedication, was similar to the one she’d married but also . . . different. “Do you enjoy it?”
“The
traveling or the papers?”
“Both, but mostly the papers. It has to be a lot of work. Why do you need three?”
“Someone has to run them—and I plan to have a lot more than three by the time I’m done.”
This surprised her. “Why?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I decide what constitutes the news and what form that news takes. Who wouldn’t want that power?”
“I thought you liked being a reporter. When we were married, you crusaded against social injustices and corruption.”
“I did like being a reporter, but even then I had grander plans. We just never got out of bed long enough for me to share them with you.”
The skin of her cheeks warmed, though she knew he wasn’t trying to embarrass her. Every word he said was true. “We were very foolish.” In so many ways.
“I disagree.” His mouth curved into a dangerous half smile that caused considerable fluttering in her stomach. “As far as my one and only honeymoon went, I thought it was perfect.”
She cleared her throat and tried not to recall the details of their honeymoon. The past needed to remain there, for the sake of her sanity. “You don’t believe you’ll marry again?”
“Absolutely not,” he said with utter conviction. “Not a chance in hell.”
Part of her was relieved. The idea of him courting another woman, let alone marrying her, caused a mammoth knot to form in the center of Lily’s chest. The other part of her felt saddened by his declaration. It hurt to think the two of them had soured each other on relationships or any future happiness. While she had no burning desire for Montgomery, she would marry him, if asked. Even a loveless marriage would be preferable to remaining alone.
“Are you planning to marry Fields?”
Uncanny, Calvin’s ability to read her thoughts. He’d always excelled at that, knowing what was going on in her mind before she voiced it.
“We haven’t yet discussed marriage, not that it’s any of your business.”
“As the publisher of three major newspapers, I’d say everything is my business.”
“Wrong,” she snapped. “My affairs are off-limits—to you and your papers.” She folded her arms and faced the window, ignoring him. There hadn’t been any lover since Calvin, not that she would admit it.
“He’s not good enough for you.”
“I’m not certain how you presume to know that.”
“Please. He has no”—he waved his hand as if searching for the precise term—“substance. He’s as deep as weak tea. All the parties and traveling? He’ll bore you to tears.”
The statement irritated her. “Perhaps I want to be bored. Perhaps I’ve had enough hot and cold relationships to last a lifetime.”
“Ah.”
“Whatever does that mean?”
“It means,” he said, shifting on his seat, “that you’ve selected Fields for that very reason, because he is unoriginal and utterly boring. In other words, the exact opposite of me.”
She closed her eyes briefly, struck with incredulity. “You are . . . insufferably arrogant. And wrong. Montgomery doesn’t turn me into some raving, screaming shrew. Our interactions are calm and mature, without the need to shout and throw things. Which is how I prefer it, by the way.”
“All I hear is boring.”
“Then you really must clean out your ears.” She lifted her chin, turned toward the window, and took a few calming breaths. Mercy, why did she let this man burrow under her skin?
“Is he boring in bed as well?”
Lily nearly choked. “That is none of your damn business.”
He held up his hands, palms out. “I see I’ve touched a nerve. Which gives me my answer, I believe.”
She said nothing, refusing to participate in this ridiculous—and inappropriate—conversation. Instead, she watched the dark New York streets, where revelers and criminals abounded.
“Don’t you miss it?” he asked after a moment.
Curiosity won out. “Miss what?”
He slid next to her, their knees nearly touching in the confined space as he angled his body toward hers. She tried to retreat, but the interior of the carriage prevented her from escaping. Heat rolled off his frame, accompanied by a spicy, familiar scent that caused her corset to grow tighter. “Move away, Calvin.”
“I will—after you answer my question. Don’t you miss the passion? The spark? The way the air fairly crackled when the two of us were together?”
Excitement hummed along her skin, every cell alive with wanting, every part of her remembering how good it had been between them. His mouth was temptingly close, right there ready to kiss. “That was a long time ago. I’m not that person any longer.”
The voice that emerged from her throat—breathy, reedy, not at all her usual strong, decisive tone—surprised her. And he knew it. Satisfaction flared in his startling blue irises, a sizzle of heat that seemed to reach into her chest and burrow deep into her belly.
“Perhaps, but I bet I could bring her back. I’ve seen glimpses of the old Lily these past few days. The one who caused my blood to boil with one look.”
Calvin had a gift with words, which was why he excelled at his chosen profession. Unfortunately, it also made him hard to withstand when he decided to use that gift for seduction. The silver-tongued devil had a way of knowing how to phrase something to get what he wanted.
So what was it that he wanted from her?
“Why do you care? I don’t understand what you think to prove by insulting Monty and reviving old memories.”
“I care because I’m dying to kiss you right now.” He slid his hand to where hers rested on the velvet seat, and his little finger entwined with hers. Such a simple gesture, only their two digits touching, but the effect was like an earthquake inside her. A myriad of emotion rushed through her veins, a mountain of memories and longing crashing over her. “Even better if you were to kiss me.”
“That’s a terrible idea,” she whispered.
“I could dare you to do it, you know.” He leaned in, his handsome face filling her field of vision, reducing the world to merely him and her. “You never could resist a dare.”
“No, but I can resist you.”
“Can you? Because I’m having a very hard time resisting you.”
“I cannot fathom why when I’ve done nothing at all to tempt you. In fact, I’ve barely restrained myself from strangling you most of the time.”
Amusement lit his beautiful eyes as he swept a loose curl behind her ear. “And you believe that in itself doesn’t tempt me? You know me better than that.”
She hadn’t forgotten. Her annoyance and ire never failed to arouse him once upon a time. She swallowed and stared at their fingers, unable just yet to pull away. “You’re trying to seduce me. You’d say anything if it would accomplish your goal.”
“True. Is it working?”
“No.”
“Liar. I can see your pulse racing from here.” He lifted his hand and pressed one finger on the side of her throat. “Right there.”
She gasped, the ache between her legs beating in time with her heart. “I’ll not kiss you on a dare, Calvin.”
“Then don’t kiss me because I dared you. Kiss me because you want to. Because you’ve been thinking about it for four years, as I have.”
He hovered, leaving the decision to her, and that pushed Lily over the edge. Tilting her head, she closed her eyes and leaped.
* * *
For a second Calvin feared she wouldn’t do it, that her resolve was stronger than his. With what felt like his whole life hanging in the balance, he waited, his stomach clenching in anticipation.
Just as he was about to give up hope, Lily shifted forward, her lids falling, and a surge of triumph flooded him. Her mouth, soft and tentative, found his, and he savored the moment, the first brush of their lips in what felt like an eternity.
How many times had he dreamed of this, craved it from the bottom of his soul? He wanted to go slowly, to allow her time to
adjust and explore, but there was no stopping his hands from gripping her face. No preventing his body from crushing her into the side of the carriage. No holding back from deepening the kiss until they could barely breathe. His lips slid over hers, relearning, remapping, and the power of the embrace sent pulses of lust through his veins, blood lengthening and tightening his cock.
Their mouths moved in tandem, each equally reckless with the need to drown in the other. His tongue met hers, twining, stroking, and he drank in the little hungry noises she fed him. At this moment he felt alive in a way he hadn’t in over four years. Small, strong fingers gripped the edges of his coat to pull him closer, and he cursed the tiny space that prevented the contact he craved: skin to skin, her legs wrapped around his hips, his erection buried in her slick heat . . . God, how he needed her.
He nipped her lip with his teeth, hungry for her. Ready to devour her. She returned the gesture and the pain shot down his spine to settle in his toes. Holy Jesus, this woman.
He palmed her breast over her clothing, the stiff corset and layers of fabric preventing him from touching her intimately. “I wish you were naked,” he growled against her mouth. “You should always be naked.”
She moved in to rejoin their mouths, possibly just to prevent him from talking, and Calvin wasted no time. He pushed his tongue eagerly past her lips, delving into the lushness, wishing he could taste her everywhere. Lose himself in her. How had he lived for four years without this? Without her?
A moment before he was ready to beg her for the chance, she tore away, her palms shoving at his shoulders.
“Calvin, stop.”
Everything inside him screamed to continue, not to give up this fleeting moment, but he forced himself to put a small amount of space between them. “Why?”
She cleared her throat and avoided his gaze. Her lips were swollen, glistening, while her chest rose and fell with the force of her breathing. “I do not want this. Not now, and not with you.”
That stung. But what had he expected? That one kiss would change their past and endear him to her? If he hoped to win her back, he’d need to wage a campaign worthy of General Sherman, laying waste to her doubts and breaking down her defenses. Convince her they belonged together. Lily would not be reclaimed easily.