Sharp Love (Gambling on Love)

by March, Ava

  Sharp Love

  By Ava March

  London, 1822

  William Drake has lived among thieves, bastards and beggars all his life, doing what’s necessary to survive. As a young orphan, that included looking after his best friend, Jack Morgan. But as they grew older, Jack took the honest path, leaving Will behind to fend for himself the only ways he knows how.

  When an unsavory errand for his employer brings Jack back to London’s underbelly, he needs Will’s help. It’s there, among the alleys they ran through as children, that the love he’s always felt for Will returns. As their nights together grow hotter, Will discovers something new about his old friend—Jack’s need to serve extends into the bedchamber.

  Will has never fully abandoned his dream of escaping London with Jack. But what could the Duke’s driver want with a dishonest cheat like him, beyond a bit of rough sex? It takes the gamble of Will’s life to find out if he can win Jack’s heart...

  77,000 words

  Dear Reader,

  June seems to be a time of both magical beginnings and wishful thinking, as we combine the wedding season with the last month of school. Here at Carina, our jobs are filled with a combination of both magical beginnings and wishful thinking, as we work in the land of fiction and allow ourselves to drift through fantastic worlds, happily ever afters and action-filled stories. Okay, maybe our jobs are a lot more rooted in reality than that, but the books we publish do allow us a brief escape and I hope they’ll do the same for you this month.

  Powerhouse erotic romance author Lynda Aicher is back with Bonds of Courage, in which an alpha professional hockey player finds himself the one bound and at her mercy. Joining Lynda in the erotic category is Samantha Ann King with another fantastic ménage, Tempting Meredith. One man is risky, but two might teach her to trust and love again.

  June brings quite a lineup of male/male romances. Ava March always stands out for me because not only does she write a fantastic male/male erotic romance, but she sets it in historical times, when it was even harder for two men to be in love, lending even more delicious romantic tension. Don’t miss Sharp Love, followed by The Viscount’s Wager releasing in December 2014.

  And speaking of magical beginnings, we have two debut authors in the male/male category. This month we’re pleased to introduce Tyler Flynn and Chasing the Rebel. One man is fleeing the French Revolution, the other sympathizes with the Revolution. How can they fall for each other when they can’t even trust each other?

  Also debuting with Carina Press this month is G.B. Lindsey, who leads off a three-part anthology, Secrets of Neverwood, which includes novellas from returning Carina Press authors Diana Copland and Libby Drew. As three foster brothers renovate a stately mansion to reopen it as a home for troubled gay youth, their love lives are complicated by the whimsical ghost of their foster mother in One Door Closes; The Growing Season; and The Lost Year.

  Rounding out our male/male selections for the month is returning author L.B. Gregg with her popular Men of Smithfield series. In Men of Smithfield: Sam and Aaron, Sam’s in a rut and looking to break out of it, so he’s thrilled when a newcomer to town introduces more than an edge of naughty nights and risky days into his life.

  There are so many more incredible books coming in June, it’s hard to know which world to lead you to next. How about some angels and demons in The Fire Within by Dana Marie Bell? Or why not take a trip on the high seas on a pirate ship—only this one captained by a woman in Mutiny of the Heart by Jennifer Bray-Weber. Danube Adele isn’t shy about taking new adult to a whole new level in her paranormal romance Dark Summer Dreams, in which Shandria is forced to rescue a sworn enemy of her people, only to find herself kidnapped by that same rugged warrior who promises retribution of his own. And who wouldn’t want to spend time with an outlaw witch, a society ice queen, and illicit magic that light up the night in the tense futuristic world of the Magic Born in Sonya Clark’s Witchlight.

  In another twist on the new adult genre, Anne Tibbets joins Carina Press and introduces The Line Book One: Carrier and her dystopian world. In a futuristic society, sex slave Naya is released and given a choice—find someone willing to take her place, or fight against the ruling corporation to save her unborn children.

  Amylynn Bright also joins Carina Press, bringing contemporary romance Cooking Up Love to our virtual shelves. When anonymous food critic and lousy chef Holly signed up for cooking classes, she didn’t realize that she and her yummy instructor would be whipping up more than dinner in the kitchen—or that he’d blame her bad review for closing his restaurant and killing his career.

  We have two additional debut authors to introduce this month, both writing contemporary new adult romance, but in two freshly original and very different stories. In Hate to Love You by Elise Alden, hatred and guilt battle love and desire as Paisley and James confront the past, each other, and the unwanted attraction that sparked between them the night she ruined his wedding. This is one book that will have people firmly on either side of a line: hate Paisley, or love her?

  And we welcome Sybil Bartel and her new adult romance, No Apologies. No heart, questionable morals, one hundred percent attitude, Graham Allen is the perfect rocker; nothing can break him—except her.

  Last, this month we introduce a new trilogy, Shore Secrets, from Carina Press author Christi Barth. A hard-nosed businessman with contempt for small-town America is forever changed by the love of a sexy hotel owner and a quirky but tight-knit community famous for its anonymous journal by the lakeshore. Don’t miss Up to Me, the first of this trilogy featuring three strong heroes, fighting for the love and trust of three even stronger heroines on the shores of Seneca Lake.

  I hope your month of June is as wonderful as ours, spending it among our reader friends at different conventions and getting to gab about the books we love. Maybe we’ll see you at one of them! And if you do, we hope you’ll stop us and tell us your favorite Carina Press book. There just might be some Carina swag in it for you if we have any on us!

  Coming in July: Falling for Max by Shannon Stacey; a debut author, Caroline Kimberly, brings us a historical romance pitched as “Regency Romancing the Stone”; and Jeffe Kennedy offers up a hot new BDSM novel.

  Here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.

  Happy reading!

  ~Angela James

  Executive Editor, Carina Press

  Dedication

  To my father-in-law. For leaving Florida and coming up to the bitter cold north in the middle of winter to help my husband fix all the things that needed fixing around the house, so I could hole-up in the basement and write. Visit us in Superiorz.club

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  October, 1822

  London, England

  Tipping up his cards, William Drake glanced down at his hand. Three kings. Damned good, and significantly better than his remaining opponent’s hand. The pot was too light, though. A few more rounds of betting, then Will would take the game.

  “Gonna call for a see?” the man across from him asked. Some
where between five-and-twenty and forty, with a wiry build and a sallow complexion, he resembled most every other man in the room. Will didn’t know his name, but that fact mattered not. Ready coin was the only requirement to join one of the tables in the back room of the Spotted Pig.

  The man held Will’s gaze. His eyes were narrowed. Not with challenge, but with suspicion. The next deal would be Will’s. Had the man picked up the pattern already?

  Best to fold now, sacrifice his six pounds, four shillings in the pot.

  “Not this hand.” Sprawled casually in his chair, Will pushed his unexposed cards forward.

  What could almost classify as a smile touched the man’s thin lips as he gathered the coins from the center of the table. Will allowed his shoulders to sag the tiniest bit. A trace show of disappointment as he watched the money disappear into the man’s pocket.

  After a swallow from his pint of ale, Will grabbed the deck from where it had been placed at his right elbow. He gathered the discarded cards, picking up his own last, and put them all at the bottom of the deck. If he had forced the see, then he could shuffle, set up the deck for this and the following games. No bother though. After this hand, he’d call it a night.

  With quick, practiced flicks of his fingers, he dealt each player three cards.

  Round and round the game went. It wasn’t until the sixth pass around the table when two of his opponents folded. Each time the betting came to him, Will glanced to his cards, considered, before throwing more into the pot.

  A few more rounds, and with a snort of disgust, the man on his right folded. Finally the man on his left folded as well, leaving only the one directly across from him.

  That suspicion was back, glinting in the gray depths of the man’s eyes. A warning that shouldn’t be ignored. But the pile of coins that currently occupied the center of the table...

  Three shillings shy of forty-seven pounds. Add what Will had already won that evening—net of his minor losses—and he would be seventy pounds closer to leaving this godforsaken city. Leaving the stench of the Thames and of unwashed bodies, the shouts of drunkards and the din of desperation, the soul-crushing poverty and the near-constant gnawing hunger far behind.

  Will pulled a few more coins from his pocket and tossed them onto the table. The fellow on Will’s left shifted in his chair, elbow bumping his. Yet Will didn’t throw the man an annoyed glance. He kept his attention trained on the one opposite him.

  His remaining opponent doubled Will’s bet. “Let’s see ‘em,” the man demanded.

  Turning over his cards, Will revealed his three kings.

  Outrage flashed across the man’s features. He shoved his cards forward, conceding the table to Will. “You’re mighty damned lucky tonight.”

  Luck had had little to do with it.

  Will tipped his head, and leaning forward, he reached for his winnings.

  “Too lucky.” An ugly sneer pulled the man’s lips.

  A hand clamped over Will’s wrist, pinning it to the table, his winnings a mere inch from his fingertips. A hard object—likely a knife judging from the narrow tip—dug into his left side.

  Hell and damnation.

  No wonder the five men had been so willing to allow him to join their table. He was to be the easy mark. His pockets were the ones that were to be fleeced.

  Clearly, this lot didn’t take kindly to the notion of having the tables turned.

  One or two of them he could handle. Five?

  That was a different matter altogether.

  His mind raced. Money alone wouldn’t placate them. He knew it without a doubt. They would want revenge, to vent their anger at being played the fools. And that anger would be vented onto him. He could only hope they wouldn’t make too much of a mess of his sorry arse.

  Though the knife at his side indicated he would be fortunate to see the morning.

  They could gut him right there, and no one at the Spotted Pig would bat an eye. No one would care.

  Will opened his mouth to say something, anything that could possibly increase his currently very poor odds of walking out of the tavern of his own volition.

  “Evening, Drake.” A large hand settled on Will’s shoulder. “Been looking all over Town for you.”

  Will didn’t need to glance behind him to verify the owner of that deep, rumbling voice. The power and strength of Jack Morgan’s six-foot-five frame, the safety and security of the man’s presence, washed over him. The line of Will’s spine relaxed. The panicked beat of his heart eased to normal levels. “Then you’ve been looking in the wrong places. I’ve been right here, playing a bit o’cards with these fine gents.”

  “Friends of yours?” Jack asked.

  He could well imagine the glare Jack was surely casting around the table. Could practically see the question tumbling about in the heads of his opponents, their postures cast in stone, as they stared up at Jack. “No. Not exactly friends.”

  Jack made a noise under his breath—part threat to those seated at the table and part annoyance with Will. “Then they won’t miss your company.”

  Tension hung in the air, so thick he could taste it. Five against two. In any other circumstance, the odds would go to the five. How long would it take these five to realize the odds were not in their favor tonight?

  The harsh grip on his wrist loosened then slowly slipped away. The one on Will’s left followed his fellow’s lead. The pressure digging into Will’s side vanished.

  Very few had ever been foolish enough to tangle with Jack Morgan. Those at the table obviously had decided not to join those ranks.

  Wise choice.

  Taking the opportunity while it was there, Will grabbed his winnings and stood. “It’s been a pleasure. Perhaps we can play again sometime, but alas, not tonight.”

  The man’s jaw across from him tightened, impotent fury blazing in his narrowed eyes. Yet otherwise, he remained motionless. Did not make a move to stop Will from turning from the table.

  Ignoring the curious glances from the other patrons, Will wound around the other tables and made his way out of the back room and through the tavern, Jack’s protective presence close on his heels.

  It had been almost a year since he had seen Jack. Eleven months. Yet time had not dulled his old friend’s knack for showing up when Will most needed him.

  Cool night air enveloped him as he stepped out the main door of the Spotted Pig. He waited until the door swung shut behind them. “Much thanks, Jack.”

  Will turned right, headed east, putting distance between himself and the tavern. A couple of long strides, and Jack was at his shoulder.

  “Did you need to taunt them?”

  “Yes, if for no other reason than because one of them bastards put a hole in my coat.” His only coat. Lifting his left arm, Will poked at the spot. Thank heaven for his waistcoat, or that hole would have been through his skin.

  Worry creased Jack’s forehead, his brows drawing together. He wore a long, dark greatcoat, the length open, exposing a plain brown coat and trousers. For a man so concerned about respectability, Jack rarely buttoned his greatcoat and his black hair was always on the slightly long side, the wavy ends grazing his collar. “That one next to you had a knife on you? Did he cut you?”

  Will waved off the concern. “No new knick to add to the collection.”

  “Are you certain? If you’re bleeding—”

  “I’m not. Bleeding, that is.” His shirt would be sticking to his skin about now if that were the case. “So what brings you to my part of Town?”

  The question did its duty, pulling Jack’s attention from Will’s non-injury. “An errand.”

  “For His Grace?” Will was quite proud of the way he managed not to sneer when speaking the address.

  “In a roundabout way. Need to track down a fellow for a friend of His Grace.”

  The last time he’d seen Jack, the man had been on a similar errand, though that one had been for the duke himself. “You’ve become his faithful hound, have you? I thou
ght you were his carriage driver.”

  “I am his driver.” Jack’s lips thinned. “And you’re an arse.”

  Will shrugged. He couldn’t very well debate the point. He was an arse, and a bastard and a cheat among other things, but those traits still made him useful to Jack on the rare occasion. Like tonight, for example. It would be nice if Jack had sought him out solely for his company, but Will had given up such hopes years ago. “Who is this fellow you need to track down?”

  “A Mr. Gabriel Tilden. He’s supposedly in London, but hasn’t been seen around Mayfair of late.”

  “You think he’s developed a taste for gin whores?”

  “It’s a possibility, among others. He could be low on funds, could be visiting a nunnery or a molly house, could be where I found you, or he could already be where you almost ended up tonight.”

  “Which is where?”

  “Facedown in some gutter.” Concern had leeched into Jack’s voice again. Concern that warmed Will’s soul.

  Will gave Jack an elbow in the side, one that spoke of a confidence he didn’t entirely feel. “If that was to be my fate, I would have ended up there years ago.”

  “Just because it has not yet happened doesn’t mean it couldn’t. You’re still doing it, aren’t you?” Jack asked, all admonishment. “And those men caught you at it tonight.”

  Will glanced around Jack to the near empty street, then lowered his voice. “They did not catch me. One of them suspected. There’s a difference. Only hacks and fools get caught, and I know who I should and should not play against.” Well, with the exception of tonight. “And I never heard you complaining when it kept us from crawling back to St. Pancras or back to that bastard’s bleedin’ coal mine.”

  “We aren’t eleven anymore, Will. And that wasn’t a card game in an alley against harmless pickpockets. You could have been—”

  “So what does this Tilden fellow look like?” While Jack’s censure was rooted in concern, it didn’t stop that ugly, dirty feeling from creeping up on Will. He already knew Jack looked down on him for not taking the honest, respectable path like Jack had done. He did not need another reminder. In any case, he wasn’t in the mood to resurrect that particular argument with his old friend. Jack was back. That was what mattered. “You want my help tracking him down, don’t you?”