by Elle Jackson
“I’m going to give you an opportunity to turn your back on the Klan,” Lorenzo began. “It might just save your life. If you walk away now, you won’t be hurt. If you choose to stay, then I’m sorry to inform you but the city will know all of your names by morning, and the governor has assured me that anyone involved in harming young women will be promptly fired from his position and arrested. That would be a shame, as I know some of you are doctors and police officers. Oh, and, hey—a detective. Nice to see you again. How much will your family suffer if you are in prison? How about those criminals you’ve put behind bars? Will they be happy to see you in a cell with them?”
“This whore killed Simmens!” one of the men shouted.
Lorenzo looked at Evelyn. She stood tall, but he could tell she was frightened. On the ground in front of her was Simmens.
Lorenzo sighed. “And I’m sure he deserved it. If he attacked her, like he’s done multiple times before, then what she did was self-defense. He caused his own death. Do you really want to die for a man who couldn’t have cared less what happened to any of you?”
“We don’t have to listen to you Italian dogs,” another man shouted, with spittle flying from his mouth. He was obviously drunk.
A man stepped from the shadows. It was a Ricci boss—a young one. “Is that what you think of all of us?”
Upon closer inspection, Lorenzo realized that this Ricci was the same man who had shot Holly all those years ago. The man still walked with a slight limp.
“No, of course not, Mr. Ricci,” one of the younger Klansmen said quickly.
The Ricci boss laughed, and without hesitation punched a Klansman in the face.
The fight started quickly.
Lorenzo pushed his way to Evelyn, who was being protected by Dred. She stood defiant in the face of danger once again.
Lorenzo grabbed her hand and dragged her from the melee. To his surprise, she followed him without hesitation, although her dress prevented her from running fast. He just wanted to get her to the roadster so she could get out of there.
A Klansmen blocked their path and pulled a knife. Lorenzo kicked the knife out of the man’s hand and punched him in the face. Out of the corner of his eye Lorenzo saw the barrel of a shotgun, pointed at him at point-blank range. Evelyn tried to push him out of the way but he was able to pivot, putting his body between her and the gun.
The hot, searing bullet tore through Lorenzo’s flesh. He was knocked to the ground by the force of the shot, falling on top of Evelyn. Darkness crept in from the edges of his vision. But he saw the man with the shotgun tackled by the young Ricci boss. That shocked Lorenzo. It appeared the young man was fighting with the De Lucas instead of against them.
Lorenzo had a moment of déjà-vu. And for just a second he wanted to wrap his hands around the young Ricci’s throat and pay him back for what he did to Holly. But looking at Evelyn under him, safe, he realized that death wasn’t the closure he needed. This Ricci boss had helped Lorenzo save Evelyn.
The gunpowder in the air was making Lorenzo cough. “Are you okay?” he asked, trying to roll off Evelyn so she could get to safety.
But he never did hear her response.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Evelyn
The night sky was filled with billowing black smoke and the taste of soot was heavy in the air. Sirens blared as the fire engines zipped down the street.
The scene had sent memories sliding over her like a rushing river. The banks of her pain had overflowed.
She had endured it with the weight of Lorenzo’s lifeless body on top of her, anchoring her to the moment.
She’d survived. But he hadn’t.
Evelyn rubbed her eyes, squinting against the bright lights of the hospital room. Her head throbbed and her sides ached from sleeping in the chair all night.
She walked over to where Lorenzo lay unconscious in the bed. He hadn’t opened his eyes. He hadn’t even flinched after they’d brought him in from surgery. The doctors had told her that they wouldn’t know his chances of survival until he woke up.
“Please wake up,” she said, placing a soft kiss on his brow.
He’d saved her, and she wouldn’t even consider that he wasn’t going to survive.
A groan startled Evelyn and she looked at Lorenzo.
“He’s awake!” she shouted.
Suddenly there was a rush of movement. Several people rushed in and fussed over him. They took his vitals and flashed more lights in his eyes, which Evelyn imagined was painful.
She wasn’t sure what showed on her face, but her emotions roared inside of her. All she wanted was to see that Lorenzo was okay.
After everyone had left, she went to him. Her scars were on full display because she hadn’t left his side since he was admitted. She had no idea where her gloves were.
Seeming to hear her thoughts, he kissed her scars. “I tried, Evelyn, but I just couldn’t do it.” His eyes looked so sincere.
“Do what?” she said.
“I tried to stay away from you, but I... I can’t. I know you deserve a life of peace and safety, but I can’t stop loving you. When you tried to push me out of the way of that bullet... I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. I just can’t be without you Evelyn.”
“I know you live a dangerous life, Lorenzo, but so do I. Being Black in this country is no walk in the park. Either way, danger or not, you’re worth it. I want to be with you too.”
“I have a way for us to be as safe as we can. You’ve brought so much light into my life. You’re like the sun shining, scaring away the darkness inside of me. So I’m leaving my family here in the city and I’m hoping to move to West Eden with you, where we’ll be safe. I love you, and I want you to marry me. Be my wife and open a new club with me. Help me fight for political change against Prohibition. I want to give you the life you deserve, and I think we can have that in West Eden—if you’ll have me.”
Chapter Fifty
Lorenzo
Lorenzo waited to hear Evelyn’s answer. He’d only known her a short time, but there was no doubt in his mind that she was the one he was meant to be with. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. She’d proved that she could handle dangerous situations, and not only keep herself safe, but protect those around her. She was talented, beautiful and selfless. She was more than he thought he deserved, but he would work to make her happy.
“Yes,” she said with tears in her eyes. “I will marry you.”
She reached out to him and he wrapped her in his arms. He’d been dreaming of this moment. It was the most beautiful dream he’d ever had. He envisioned their children, her gift of music to the world, their happiness at seventy years old.
He’d go completely legit, get out of the bootlegging business until Prohibition could be repealed and start a music publishing company. And the only reason any of this would be possible was because she’d helped him see the good in himself.
He ran his hand in circles along her back. He winced as sudden movement hurt.
“Are you okay?” she said.
“I’m better than I’ve ever been. Thank you for...for being here,” he said.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” she said, kissing him, careful not to touch his side.
“When are they going to let me out of here?” Lorenzo asked, staring up into Evelyn’s eyes.
“They said as soon as you woke up they would assess your progress after the surgery. Then you’ll need to stay here and recover for four weeks at a minimum.”
Lorenzo sighed. “As long as you’re here with me, I don’t care where I am.”
Epilogue
Lorenzo admired the freshly painted club. Evelyn had decided on light gray walls with a feature wall behind the bar painted gold. He loved the theme of gold and silver that she’d chosen. It gave the club a regal feel, which was so appropriate for Evel
yn’s style. She was royalty.
The arched dome ceiling had an intricately painted mural from an artist who’d moved to West Eden from Harlem. The style of the mural was fragmented, with bold colors and a nod to Senegalese culture. The mural was Lorenzo’s favorite part of the club.
The opening night for Gold Sun was just a week away, and Lorenzo and Evelyn had a lot of work left to do. The easy part had been picking the band. Evelyn had hired Eazy, the pianist from the Avalon, and Benny and the band had come from Blues Moon.
Lorenzo would reopen Blues Moon eventually, but he wanted a break from the city until things cooled down. He wanted to focus on being the best husband to Evelyn. They’d set a date for next year to have their wedding.
“Boss, where do you want these?” Tommy rolled a couple of tables through the front door.
“Put them along the perimeter of the dance floor. Thanks, Tommy.”
Lorenzo was happy that Tommy, Jeb and Dred had wanted to join him and Evelyn in West Eden. He had purchased a building with apartments for each of them. Evelyn said that until they were married, she thought it would be best for them to have separate places. He couldn’t wait until they bought their first home together.
Gold Sun was on the first floor of the building, and the apartments were on the third, fourth and fifth floors. Lorenzo had given Evelyn the top-floor apartment. She was the star after all. He didn’t really care where he lived, as long as he could be close to her.
“Lorenzo, stop daydreaming and help,” Dred said.
It had been hard for her to walk away from Kansas City, but when Evelyn had asked her to join them, Dred had surprisingly agreed. And, of course, when Dred agreed, Jeb agreed.
The only person Lorenzo worried about was his father. He’d decided to take matters into his own hands with the Ricci family, but Lorenzo wanted to find an amicable resolution to the long-held feud between the families, especially after the young Ricci boss had taken down the Klansman who’d tried to shoot him.
It would take both families to be willing to put their differences and their long history of murdering each other aside. Lorenzo wasn’t sure that it would ever happen...
Picking up a box, Lorenzo unpacked it and put away the brand-new glasses he’d ordered. Then the door opened, and Evelyn stood at the threshold. She paused, and Lorenzo marveled at her beauty—as he had done since the first moment he saw her at Blues Moon. She wore wool white pants with her fur coat and hat. Lorenzo put down the box he held and walked from behind the bar.
Evelyn’s skin was the color of wet sand. Her beautiful midnight-black hair fell in waves around her shoulders and down her back. She’d stopped wearing gloves and her hands were delicate and beautifully scarred. Lorenzo stared at her, remembering where his life had been just a few months ago.
He’d never thought he’d find someone to share his life. The reality of his family and his choices as a businessman had always created a barrier to his happiness. He’d feared for Evelyn’s life more than his own, only to learn that she was resilient and capable of protecting herself. He knew he would always worry for her, but he respected her ability to navigate the complexities of his world and her own. He still had a lot to learn about her world, but he wanted to learn with her and from her.
He’d never imagined that finding the woman he was to spend the rest of his life with would mean he would be entering into a relationship that would require so much of him, but he couldn’t wait to show her how much he loved her.
“Lorenzo, how’s it coming?” She glided over to him.
He put his hand on her cheek, staring into her golden eyes. “Everything is fine—and even better now that you’re here.”
He kissed her, softly at first, and then he released the heat of his passion, holding her to him. They had similar scars from their pasts, but she had healed Lorenzo from within.
“Can I see you in your office?” Lorenzo said. He’d made sure he and Evelyn both had offices, and Evelyn also had a dressing room.
Evelyn smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Of course, Mr. De Luca.”
Lorenzo laughed. “That’s my dad’s name.”
“Oh, gross,” Dred said, rolling her eyes.
Evelyn took Lorenzo’s hand and led him to her office. She closed the blinds and locked the door.
He’d waited for weeks to make love to her again. His side had had to heal because he wanted to be able to caress her and explore her entirely. He pinned Evelyn against the door. He moved her thick black hair away from her face and kissed her cheek, moving slowly down to her neck. Her skin warmed his lips. She tasted like the sweetest dessert. He licked her delicate skin, lingering in the sensual curve of her slender neck.
“Lorenzo, everyone is just on the other side of the door...” Evelyn breathed.
“You belong to me and I belong to you. We’ve both waited a long time to have our happiness. We don’t have to wait any longer.”
Lorenzo kissed her lips. He would savor her for the rest of their lives, with the fire of their love forever burning.
* * *
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Lady Olivia’s Forbidden Protector
by Christine Merrill
Chapter One
Michael Solomon came down the stairs to breakfast in his house on Gracechurch Street, thoroughly satisfied with the fineness of the morning and life in general. It was often thus at the beginning of a new assignment, when he was still confident in the ease of the task put to him. He would likely feel different by supper tomorrow, after a full day of dealing with the nobility and their foolishness. But at least for the moment all was well.
He kissed the woman waiting for him at the table, feeling equally magnanimous towards her. ‘Good morning, Mother.’
She beamed at him, pouring out his coffee before he asked for it. ‘Did you sleep well, my dear?’
‘Excellently, thank you,’ he said, smiling back at her and heaping his plate with eggs and ham.
She nodded in approval. ‘It is always best to start a job well rested and fully nourished.’ Then she steepled her fingers and leaned forward eagerly. ‘What is it to be this time? Chasing jewel thieves? Thwarting blackmailers? Intercepting French contraband?’
He shook his head, partly in denial and partly in frustration. His mother never seemed to understand that enquiry agents were hired for their discretion and were not supposed to share the details of their employers’ business with all and sundry. ‘Nothing so exciting as you imagine. I am to be a bodyguard for an heiress.’ His description made the job sound far more interesting than it was likely to be. The risks to the girl were minimal, other than those she created for herself.
‘Is she very pretty?’ his mother asked, eyebrows raised.
‘I do not know,’ he said. ‘I have not met her as yet.’ Most likely, she was. In his experience, enough money and sufficient rank could make even the plainest girl seem handsome. It hardly mattered one way or another. It was not his job to have an opinion on such things, nor was he the sort to covet women he could not have.
‘And why does she need a bodyguard?’ Her eyes widened. ‘Is it kidnappers?’
He sighed. ‘She has formed an inappropriate liaison, and I am to prevent the elopement.’
His mother seemed to deflate, disappointed. ‘Why would you do such a horrible thing as to stand in the way of young love?’
‘Someone must,’ he said, silently amazed that she, of all people, would not see the reason for it.
‘For all you know, it is her only chance at happiness. At the very least, it i
s terribly romantic.’
‘Far from it,’ he countered. ‘I would call it foolish. She is the sister of a duke. It is up to her brother to decide who she will marry. If he does not like this fellow, then he cannot be worthy of her.’
‘The sister of a duke,’ she said, snatching at a piece of information he had not meant to reveal. She put a finger to her chin. ‘Now let me see. Who has a sister of marriageable age? Exeter? Norfolk?’
‘You know I do not like to discuss the identity of my clients,’ he said, trying to focus on his breakfast, as if it might halt her speculation.
‘Folbroke is an only child. Felkirk has a brother.’
‘You should be the enquiry agent, rather than I,’ he said. ‘You ask questions enough to be one.’ Then he took a large bite of toast to make an answer impossible.
‘Do not say it is Scofield,’ she said, watching him carefully and searching for a reaction. ‘It is, isn’t it? Oh, dear.’
He waved his napkin in surrender and continued to chew.
‘I do not need words to get the truth out of you,’ she said, taking his silence for assent. ‘You should not work for such a man. It is common knowledge that he is a murderer. He stabbed his father to death, then took his title and his seat in Parliament without even a day of mourning.’
‘Just because everyone knows a story does not make it true,’ he said. From what he had learned before taking this assignment, this was the exception to that rule. There had been a murder, and the new Scofield had likely killed the older. He had worn black at the funeral, but few had given him credit for it, since he had not seemed the least bit sorry at his father’s passing.
But a lack of tears was not enough evidence for a conviction, and it was not Michael’s job to speculate. ‘There is no reason for you to be concerned on my account. When I met the man, he did not seem any more murderous or mad than the other peers I have met. And he is not likely to kill me since he has nothing to gain from doing so.’