by Clare Murray
“Why so defensive?”
“My dad—” She stopped short. How much of her troubled adolescence did she want to confide to this relative stranger?
“Yes?” His firm encouragement shoved aside the last resistance in her soul.
“My dad said I’d never amount to anything that way. He said I should give up singing but I kept going without telling him. I paid for lessons with money I earned from odd jobs.”
Her music teacher had been completely gaga for early twentieth-century music, so Sasha had learned some odd songs. Still, her voice fit the music well and it had given her a temporary escape from dreary everyday life. She’d thrown herself into learning the music of the era, impressing her teacher and giving herself a much-needed confidence boost.
“Seems your dad was wrong. You have a gorgeous voice.”
She searched Blaze’s eyes for any trace of sarcasm or false flattery. Finding none, she inclined her head. “Thank you.”
Sasha’s stomach rumbled, distracting them both. Blaze raised an eyebrow. “Does Cornell bother to feed his girls? When did you last eat?”
“I had a few bites yesterday evening.” Party food, mostly.
“When was your last proper meal?”
“Lunch yesterday.”
Blaze took her arm with a disapproving grunt. “We’ll go to my sister-in-law’s.”
Sasha had to admit she was a touch relieved when Blaze led her decisively out of the alleyway. It was getting cold and her pride wouldn’t have let her give up and return to his apartment without an epic struggle. And the streets of New York City in the twenties were a bit intimidating, especially as morning traffic began to increase. There seemed to be no rules and very few guidelines. Intersections were nightmares to navigate, with vehicles sometimes missing each other by feet or mere inches.
Safely guided by Blaze, she allowed herself to take in the sights of the city. She’d lived in the suburbs all her life, so the hustle and bustle held a certain fascination. And this was nothing like the New York City she’d seen on her high school trip. She was curious to see what the first subway lines looked like.
They hadn’t gone far before Blaze turned down a side street, leading her up a set of stairs to a large brown door. The building wasn’t quite as grand as Blaze’s but it was well-kept.
“They always do a good spread on Saturday morning,” Blaze said.
“I take it you’re a frequent visitor.”
His teeth flashed in an unrepentant grin. “I’m a terrible cook. Besides, Mary is used to putting on extra. I have a lot of hungry men in my family.”
That would take some getting used to. Sasha was accustomed to solitary, hurried meals. Her father preferred to eat in front of the television with a can of beer always at hand.
Sasha repressed a sigh. This thing with Blaze…it wasn’t long-term. She couldn’t start thinking of them that way. Besides, this was a rebound relationship, wasn’t it?
The door opened, and for a moment Sasha was convinced they’d gone to the wrong house. Who was the old man peering at them? His face wreathed in a sudden smile and he opened the door wide.
“Blaze is here!” he shouted over his shoulder. Then, more loudly, “And he has a young lady with him!”
Self-consciously, Sasha stepped inside. Blaze’s warm hand came to rest on the small of her back, reassuring her somewhat.
“No car today?” the old man inquired.
“We walked, Uncle Declan.”
“Walked? I’d have thought you’d want to show off your new car.”
Sasha tried not to blush. “He already showed me. Last night.”
Uncle Declan grinned and Sasha realized just what she’d given away.
“Last night, eh? Well, come on in and have some food. Table’s set,” the old man said.
Introductions. Sasha braced herself. She’d never met her ex’s family, nor had he met her father, so this was entirely new territory. Stiffly, she allowed herself to be guided through to the kitchen.
The little boy sitting at the table had blue eyes the same color as Blaze’s. He waved, hastily swallowing his mouthful of toast. “Morning, Uncle Blaze!”
He was cute but Sasha had to harden her heart. After today, she wouldn’t see them again. So she smiled and nodded in all the right places, and sat and devoured toast, bacon and eggs while listening to the rest of them talk.
When Mary, Blaze’s sister-in-law, pulled her aside after breakfast, Sasha tried not to be too touched when the other woman handed her a bundle of clothes.
“Blaze said you had to leave a bunch of your things behind because of the police raid,” Mary said. “We’re of a size, so I thought you could use a few spare outfits.”
“Thank you.” Sasha accepted the small bundle. “I really appreciate it. I didn’t bring much with me to the city.”
Mary began clearing dishes. “No, no—don’t help. You’re a guest. Say, where are you from?”
“I’m from Maine.” That was true enough. Sasha handed over the plates to Mary. “Is it true that Cornell killed Blaze’s brother?”
Mary spared her a quick glance before turning back to the sink. “Yes. He shot Sean two years ago. He denied it, of course, and the police don’t have enough evidence.” Her voice dripped scorn.
He’s bound to go out in a blaze of glory. The backstage girl’s words came back to her, igniting a spark of worry.
“Blaze has been chasing Cornell for two years, then?” Sasha asked carefully.
“Oh yes.” Mary’s voice turned bleak. “He won’t stop. He’s obsessed with getting him…one way or another. That’s why we’re so surprised to see you. Blaze hasn’t had a woman overnight since Sean died.”
The masculine voices in the other room rose to a higher level, punctuated by the shrill giggling of the little boy. Mary dried her hands on a towel, rolling her eyes. “Best see what they’re up to before they cause too much trouble.”
Sasha followed more slowly, deep in thought. So Blaze hadn’t brought home a woman for two years. Yet here she was, and he didn’t seem too put out by her presence. But how long would it last? And was he just using her to get closer to Cornell?
Chapter Three
Blaze’s attention was immediately drawn to Sasha as she and Mary entered the room. Mentally, he kicked himself. He was becoming far too besotted with the girl.
In the middle of the room, his nephew giggled as he turned another cartwheel. The boy had been capering around doing handstands and other acrobatics, amusing everyone but coming perilously close to knocking over vases and lamps.
Mary swooped in, putting a quick stop to the fun. Against his protests, she whisked the boy away for some quiet time. Blaze watched Sasha as she looked after the departing boy. Would she want children?
She didn’t seem like the overly maternal type but her expression held a fleeting wistfulness that hinted otherwise. He wondered if she ever got as lonely as he did. Or did her singing provide her with a focus in life?
Privately, he had to admit that avenging Sean’s death had been his only goal for the past two years, almost to the exclusion of everything else. For the first time in ages, Blaze paused to wonder if he might be better off with someone else in his life.
He loved playing drop-in uncle, part-time brother, loving his family while keeping his personal, bachelor life fully to himself. Sasha’s presence in his apartment last night had been a welcome change.
Still, he told himself he shouldn’t get used to her. After all, his main goal was the demise of Cornell.
“We should get going,” Blaze said.
“So soon?” Dougal, his brother, gave him that disappointed look he’d been perfecting over years. Blaze fought the urge to roll his eyes. His family of all people should understand how busy he was.
“How’s business?” Blaze asked gruffly. He and his brothers owned several restaurants in the area. They’d made enough to branch out, invest in other areas, but Blaze didn’t have much to do with the day-to-day runn
ing of things. He settled the books, acting as family accountant and making more than enough money to live comfortably.
Dougal seemed pleased that he’d bothered to ask. “Things are going really well. We had a good review printed in the local paper last week.”
“Great. Well, we’d best go.” Blaze motioned to Sasha.
“Are you two going back to your apartment? Why don’t you spend a day at Coney Island?”
Blaze narrowed his eyes at Dougal. What was his brother playing at? He hadn’t been to Coney Island since he was a near-penniless young teenager staring at the rides he couldn’t afford.
“Maybe,” he said shortly.
“I wouldn’t mind.” The sound of Sasha’s voice made him realize she hadn’t spoken all throughout breakfast.
Dougal looked smug. Blaze glared briefly at him. Just because he was happily married didn’t mean he had to interfere in his younger brother’s life.
“I’ll think about it. Let’s go. Thanks for the grub, Dougal.”
Sasha descended the stairs at his side, clutching something. He sneaked a curious peek. What were those? Clothes? Blaze frowned, feeling slightly guilty. He should have thought of her comfort sooner. How much of her stuff had she left behind at that speakeasy?
Would Cornell be looking for her? The thought brought him up cold. Without really thinking about it, he took her hand. She was his to protect.
“What’s Coney Island like?” Sasha asked.
Curse Dougal for putting ideas in her head. “It seemed like a slice of heaven when I was a boy.”
“And now?” she prompted.
“Wouldn’t bother with it. More important things to do.”
“Your nephew might like to go.”
“Dougal can take him. The kid’s lucky; he’ll have money to spend. I always wanted to go on the big wheel.” Blaze clamped his mouth shut before he started babbling. Coney blinking Island. Hadn’t thought of that place for years.
Sean had loved it there. His favorite thing had been the hot dogs. They’d almost always been able to afford a nickel each for a hot dog, even if most of the rides had been beyond their means.
“Come on,” Blaze said abruptly. “It’s cold out and you don’t have a jacket. Let’s hurry.”
“Sorry,” she muttered. “Next time I’ll just take your car.”
“Over my dead body.”
The look she gave him was so concerned that he instinctively put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. She was shivering, whether from nerves or the cold, he wasn’t entirely sure.
“Can you drive?” he asked.
“Yes.”
That was another thing he’d have to keep an eye on. She was just feisty enough to zoom off in the Cadillac if provoked too far. He’d seen her eyeing the car this morning during her fit of temper.
Not that he minded her spirit, but he couldn’t let her walk—or drive—off alone in the city. Not before questioning her. And definitely not before figuring out whether Cornell was after her.
Sasha was shivering in earnest by the time they got back to his place. He led her up the stairs and inside, rubbing her arms to relieve the chill.
“Where’s your coat?” he asked. Had she brought it with her in the car? He couldn’t remember.
“I left it back at the speakeasy. I gave it to one of the girls.” She spoke through chattering teeth.
Blaze stifled a curse. “Anything important in its pockets?”
“I…” She trailed off, going all distant on him. “Some photographs and loose change, I think.”
“Photographs of you?”
“And my former boyfriend,” she said.
“Does the fellow give you any problems?” That came out more belligerently than he’d intended. He softened his words by pulling her close.
“Not anymore.” She laid her cheek on his chest, submitting quietly as he cuddled her.
“Come on. Let’s get into bed,” he said.
“Again?”
Blaze couldn’t quite hide his amusement. “To get you warm, sweetheart.”
She allowed herself to be led into the bedroom. He couldn’t help but respond to those sultry eyes, his trousers uncomfortably tight around his burgeoning cock. Sasha was the sexiest woman he’d ever been with, so damn sexy he was throwing his day-to-day life out the window just to spend more time with her.
But he didn’t begrudge a second of it. Even though he knew he should.
Sasha reached up, stroking the stubble on his cheek all the way to his chin. Her shivering was subsiding, her focus on him—only on him. God, he liked that. When she tugged his trousers down he was hard and ready for her touch.
He wasn’t prepared, however, for the sensation of her silky mouth closing over the head of his cock. Blaze’s hands went to her immediately, stroking her long hair from her face as she enveloped him in her warm, wet heat.
Slowly, almost excruciatingly slowly, she took all of him. Impressive. Blaze jerked as she pulled back, tongue swirling. His balls were so tight they ached.
She was rapidly pushing him toward the point of no return, something a woman hadn’t done to him so quickly since his misspent youth. He sucked in a deep breath as she allowed her teeth to lightly scrape along his shaft. She was good. Too good.
“Sasha,” he warned, his voice going hoarse.
She flicked a mischievous look his way and kept going. Did she know how much she was affecting him? Blaze tightened his grasp on her hair as she increased her suction, drawing him deep. He wasn’t going to last—
He grumbled another, incoherent warning, but her velvet mouth remained wrapped tightly around his cock, refusing to give it up. Moments later he filled her mouth, her throat working as she swallowed all he gave her.
This time, he did shout her name. God help him.
Sasha shuddered as Blaze’s fingers worked their magic, clinging to his shoulder as her second orgasm overtook her. The taste of his semen still salted her mouth.
She’d thought he would roll over and be content to hold her, but unlike her ex, he insisted upon reciprocation. And he was very thorough. She was exhausted by the time she curled up at his side, head resting on his shoulder.
Last night had been riddled with half-formed nightmares, leaving her sleep-deprived. She blinked open her eyes, found Blaze’s blue ones absorbed in watching her.
Well, of course he would watch her. He’d kidnapped her. Sasha figured she should probably think this situation through. But for the first time in her life she was letting it all go. And having fun in the process.
“So sleepy,” she mumbled.
“Go to sleep, then.” The amused command made her lips quirk up but she was too tired to really smile. And his skin was so warm against her cheek.
When she woke, her cheek was resting against the impersonal surface of a pillow. She blinked away the last vestiges of sleep, suddenly panicky that Blaze wasn’t there.
“Good evening, sweetheart.”
The sound of his voice reassured her, calming the panic. She wasn’t alone, adrift in a strange city and strange time. She had Blaze. The fact that he’d effectively put her in the situation by kidnapping her didn’t escape her, but given Cornell’s reputation, would she really have been able to make it back through the dressing room door? What if Louella or one of the other women had followed her?
Besides, Mr. Asshole had been ready to bodily throw her onto the stage. Not to mention she’d still been in denial about the whole situation. She’d thought it was a lark, a private theater club hidden inside a little Maine college. How wrong she’d been.
If only her ex could see her now, contented in the bed of another man. A caring man, someone who looked after her needs.
Yet when she raised her head to meet Blaze’s eyes, she sensed a subtle difference in him.
Sasha sat up in the bed, drawing her knees to her chin defensively. Why was he looking at her so sternly? He rose from his chair and began to pace.
“I’ve arranged
for food to be delivered in an hour—your supper.”
Her supper. So he wasn’t eating with her? A grim thought gave her pause. Was there another woman in his life? She was too proud to ask, choosing to stay silent.
“I should be back before midnight,” Blaze continued. “My downstairs neighbor will know how to contact me should you attempt to leave the apartment. I suggest you stay in. I have a radio in the sitting room for your entertainment, and books of course.”
“Where are you going?” Sasha silently cursed herself. She hadn’t meant to ask.
“Word on the street suggests Cornell is receiving a shipment of bootleg liquor somewhere in Queens. I’m gonna go see if that’s true.”
“Why?” In for a penny, in for a pound.
His expression grew stony. “Because Sean died in a similar situation. Cornell’s a double-crossing bastard. He shot my brother and took the goods. Didn’t even wait until he was cold. If I can catch him doing the same again, maybe the police will listen this time.”
“I didn’t know he was so cruel. I’m sorry about Sean.”
“You didn’t know?” His gaze raked her. “Any fool on the street could have told you about Vincent Cornell’s reputation before you walked into his goddamn club. Guy kills anyone who looks at him wrong.”
“I didn’t talk to anyone before I walked in,” Sasha said stiffly. She wasn’t about to try to explain the door to Blaze. Not when he was in such a bad mood.
“Well, baby, next time you get a job maybe you should check references a bit more vigorously.”
Sasha swallowed the pain of his comment, forcing herself to watch impassively as he jammed a fedora over his dark hair and pulled his shoes on. He walked out the door without another word or glance her way.
She sprang out of bed the moment the latch clicked. Pulling the blanket around her, she paced obsessively, then forced herself to calm. The window in the sitting room had a good view of the street below, so she moved to stand near it.
Blaze had taken the Cadillac. Smart move. She would have ransacked the apartment until she’d found the keys, then taken off. Unless the downstairs neighbor was a sprinter, he wouldn’t be able to keep up.