A Love Surrendered (4 page)

“Ahem . . .” Joe cleared his throat.

Steven jolted, suddenly aware he was staring. Forcing a smile, he gripped her hand. “I’m sorry too. Professional vice, I guess. When I see someone in danger, it just puts me on edge.”

A soft shade of pink dusted her cheeks as her small hand slipped from his. “That’s understandable. And thank you again for coming to my rescue.”

She tucked a strand of reddish blonde hair over her ear, an action that seemed both sweet and sensual at the same time. The motion drew his attention to the soft curls that trailed her shoulders, a stark contrast to the fashionable bobs of the day. Further evidence of her innocence, he thought with a press of his jaw, and his protective instincts notched up. Without meaning to, his gaze traveled down, taking in generous curves previously hidden by a sweater, and when his eyes met hers once again, the flaming blush in her cheeks tugged a grin to his lips.

“Besides,” he said, flicking Joe on the head, “I always get a little testy when I see a nice girl like you mixed up with trouble like this.”

“Hey, need I remind you that you used to be ‘trouble’ too?” Joe winked at Erica. “And . . . if I have my way, you will be again.” He poured Coca-Cola into a fresh glass and handed it to Steven. “Here, take the badge off, O’Connor, and let’s show these ladies a good time.”

“Speaking of which,” Joanie said with a drawl, “how ’bout a touch of giggle water to take you back to the good ol’ days?”

Steven’s smile soured. “You know better than that, Joanie. College is over, and I’m in the Justice Department now, a working stiff sworn to uphold the law.”

Joe grunted. “ ‘Stiff’ being the operative word. Come on, Steven, lighten up. Prohibition will be dead by the end of the year, so what’s the big deal? We’re not on the payroll now.”

Huffing out a sigh, Steven ambled over to sit next to Erica. “Obviously.” He caught Joe’s pleading glance and exhaled again, realizing his best friend was probably right . . .
again
. He
was
stiff.
And
dull and boring and downright miserable.
He stared at Joe’s and Stan’s open-necked shirts and suddenly yanked at his tie and shoved it in his coat pocket, loosening his own shirt. An ocean breeze from the window cooled the sweat on his chest, and all at once he realized how stagnant his life had become.

“You used to be the life of the party, O’Connor,” Joe had said when he’d strong-armed Steven earlier in the day. “What the devil happened?”

His smile thinned as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.
Maggie happened.

“Mmm, get comfortable, why don’t you?” Erica said, wisping painted nails through the dark hairs on his arm. And for the first time in a while, he missed spending time with a woman.

“My thoughts exactly,” he said as he tugged her to her feet and led her to the dance floor. He pulled her into his arms, and the scent of Chanel No. 5 toyed with his senses. They moved slowly, the mellow sound of “Hold Me” soothing his nerves and draining the tension from his neck.
Exactly what I have in mind
, he thought, the lyrics underscoring his resolve. He rested his head against hers, pushing aside all thoughts of Maggie.

“It’s nice to be in your arms again, Steven,” Erica whispered, her husky tone reminding him of the fling they’d had during one of his breakups with Maggie.

“It’s nice to have you here, Erica.”

She stared up, lips parted and an invitation in her eyes, and a once-familiar desire kindled deep in his gut. It’d been too long since he’d been drawn to a woman, and he found
he no longer wanted to avoid it. Almost three years on the high road had made him a lonely man, one who didn’t feel anything for any woman, nor wanted to. But with Erica so close, so willing, he could feel it now, and he couldn’t deny it felt good, natural, to be here again. Eyes lidded, she slowly lifted on tiptoe to brush her lips against his, and upon contact, her arms swept around his neck, drawing him down. A forgotten desire flamed and he deepened the kiss. The taste of her intoxicated him, and with a silent groan, he clutched her so tightly, he felt her breathe when she molded close.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, and he closed his eyes to enjoy the feel of her body against his, the clean smell of Breck shampoo in her hair, the scent of her skin.

“Now, see? This isn’t so bad, is it, O’Connor?”

Steven opened his eyes to see Joe grinning at him with Annie in his arms, and for some reason, his neck stiffened all over again, dampening his good mood.
You’re an idiot, O’Connor, what do you care?
He tightened his hold on Erica and deflected his feelings with a cocky grin. “Oh, it’s bad, all right. Bad for my work ethic. I could get used to this.”

“Mmm . . . me too.” Erica laid her head on his chest.

“That’s the whole plan,” Joe said. “To get you back into the land of the living so you don’t drag me down too.”

He winked at Erica and spun Annie away, holding her closer than Steven liked. His lips compressed into a near scowl.
Leave her alone, Joe, she’s just a kid.

The dance ended and Joe took Annie back to the table, allowing Steven to breathe easier and enjoy Erica in his arms. They danced to several more songs before Steven escorted her back, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long while. “Thanks, Erica,” he said, “I needed that.”

“Me too, Steven.” She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?” She gave Joanie a secret smile and inclined her head toward the ladies’ room. “Want to come?”

“Sure,” Joanie said with a ready grin, then followed as Erica led the way.

Steven leaned back, arm draped loosely over Erica’s chair as he squinted at Joe. He nodded toward Annie’s empty spot. “Where’s the kid?”

Joe’s gaze shifted to the dance floor. “Peggy’s dancing with some guy I don’t know and Annie is with . . .” He hesitated, his mouth leveling flat. “Brubaker.”

Steven sat up. “Brubaker?” He leaned in, fingers gripped to the table. “And you
let
her?”

Joe sighed and downed his Coke, slumping back in his chair. “And how are we supposed to stop her, Steven? We have no control over her. Besides, it’s only a dance.”

“She’s a kid, Walsh,” Steven said sharply, his jaw hard as rock. “For pity’s sake, she’s still wet behind the ears without a lick of sense to know that Brubaker’s a snake.” His eyes scanned the crowd, seeing Peggy, but no sign of Annie. “Where is she?” he snapped.

“Why? What are you going to do? Make a scene?” Joe slanted forward. “You know you have no patience where Brubaker’s concerned, so why borrow trouble?”

Steven rose. “One, because I flat-out don’t like the guy, and two? Because I’m not gonna let that slime ruin another girl’s reputation, especially some kid from Podunk, Iowa, who doesn’t know which end is up.” He jerked his jacket off the chair and put it on, then tempered his anger with a stiff smile. “Come on, Joe, isn’t this what you’re always harping about? For me to get back in the game?”

Joe scowled. “Yeah, but with the ladies, not your fists. You’re a law official, O’Connor, not a vigilante. You’re supposed to head off trouble, not start it.”

“Exactly,” Steven said with another quick scan of the floor. “And that’s exactly what I intend to do.” He slammed his chair in, shooting Joe a reassuring grin. “Don’t worry, partner, you have my word I won’t throw the first punch.” He took a quick stab at the peanuts and tossed a handful in his mouth. “But if it comes to that?” He offered a quick salute. “You can bet I’ll deliver the last.”

2

U
h-oh, this is a mistake . . .
Annie tensed the moment Billy steered her out to the piazza, the brisk sea air delivering as many cold chills as the man holding her hand, a bitter reminder she’d left her sweater inside. Isolated couples lingered here and there, some nuzzling at the railing while a ripe moon lent a hazy glow with a stripe of gold across Massachusetts Bay. Others chose darker nooks to engage in behavior that forced a lump to her throat, bringing heat to her cheeks that belied the cool of the night. She buffed her arms, feeling the goose bumps popping everywhere beneath her thin dress, and Billy instantly pulled her into his arms.

“I’ll keep you warm, doll,” he whispered, fondling her ear with his mouth. Lights from the piazza danced across the water, while shivers danced down her spine, as much from his touch as from fear of where it might lead. She squeezed her eyes shut, body stiff as his lips wandered her throat. But it didn’t matter how scared she was, because the truth was, it was time.

“Book smart, street stupid.”
Steven O’Connor’s words haunted, confirming what she already knew. When it came to life, she’d always done things by the “book,” the tomboy who was smart, responsible, and mature beyond her years.
Excelling in school and faith while Maggie excelled in living life with a passion. Well, Annie was tired of waiting for her life to begin and the magic to start. The same magic that had filled every one of her sister’s letters, beckoning her toward this pivotal moment when she was no longer a little girl but a woman like Maggie, experiencing things that, up to now, she’d only dreamed or written about.

Like my very first kiss.

Billy eased her to the steel railing, and she shivered again, remembering “Harv’s” near kiss on the boardwalk. That was the first kiss any boy ever tried to give her, and she was quite sure it didn’t count. No, it’d left her shaken and nauseous, and a true first kiss had to be magical.

Didn’t it?
Like a moonlit kiss on this piazza with a handsome man like Billy who actually stirred her pulse? Her mind suddenly leapfrogged to Steven O’Connor, and heat braised her skin. All at once her stomach lurched when Billy molded his body to hers, causing panic to rise in her chest. His mouth slid softly to her throat, and she forced herself to relax, determined to enjoy this milestone in her life. And then with a harsh catch of her breath, he feathered her ear with his mouth, tongue invasive. Frantic, she tried to push him away, but he only locked her tighter, his breath hot against her skin. “Oh, babe, I never met a girl like you—”

“Sure you have, Brubaker, dozens of times, at this very railing alone.” Steven O’Connor strolled forward, hands loose in the pockets of his blue serge slacks and lips sculpted in a smile colder than the cast-iron statue she’d passed on the Pier.

Heat singed Annie’s cheeks when a swear word hissed in her ear, and she gasped when Billy spun around. “You looking for trouble, O’Connor? Because if you are, I’ll give it to ya.”

Steven folded his arms, tone casual despite a tic in his jaw. “Trouble? Naw, but you are.” His dangerous smile gleamed white in the dark. “Ever hear the term ‘age of consent’?”

Billy didn’t answer right away, but Annie saw the strain in
the clench of his fists. “What the devil are you talking about? I ain’t done nothing wrong.”

“Not yet.” Steven nodded at Annie. “But look at her, Brubaker, she’s jailbait and way too young for what you got in mind.”

“That’s her decision, fuzzball, not yours.”

Annie eased away, arms clutched to her waist as Steven arched a brow. Gaze lidded, his chiseled face was calm and matter-of-fact as he held out a hand. “Want to stay with him, Annie, or come with me?”

She shot into his embrace, burying her face in his shirt while she sobbed against his chest. His arms closed around her like a steel fortress, and when he spoke, his voice was as biting as the sudden gust of wind whipping her back. “If I ever see you around Annie or anybody this young again, Brubaker, I’ll toss you in the cooler so fast, you’ll have frostbite.”

“Yeah? On what charges, flatfoot?”

Amusement laced Steven’s tone. “Oh, don’t worry, you two-bit greaseball, I’ll come up with something—assault, maybe, or even that rotgut stashed in your coat.”

Annie sniffed and pulled away. The steely smile on Steven’s face appeared all the more ominous, given the shadow of bristle on his hard-angled jaw.

“Or maybe just because you’re downright ugly. Either way, I have friends in the precinct who owe me favors, so go ahead, Brubaker, I’m beggin’ you to just give me a shot.”

Billy cursed and shoved past, leaving Annie quivering in the cold while she stared at the floor, too embarrassed to meet Steven’s eyes. She heard his noisy sigh before he took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders with a parental air. “I’m taking you home, kiddo.”

“But Peggy—”

He gripped her arm, pulling her up short, his glare making her squirm. “I don’t care about Peggy. She can handle this, you can’t. You’re too young.”

“I’m as old as she is,” she said, a pout in her tone as he dragged her inside. “Or will be.”

He held the door, palm hard against the small of her back, steering her in. “Peggy’s been around, you haven’t. In a place like this, you stand out like a sore thumb, begging for trouble.”

She wheeled on him with fire in her eyes. “I am
not
stupid, you know, nor some dumb cluck who’s gonna let every Tom, Dick, and Harry take advantage.”

He angled a brow. “No . . . just every Harv, Grove, and Billy.”

She blinked, cheeks burning at the truth of his statement. She looked away, tone angry despite tears pricking her eyes. “I don’t care, Steven, you treat me like I’m a kid and I’m not.”

He chucked a finger to her chin, his tone suddenly soft. “No, you’re not. You’re a young woman too special for a place like this, Annie, mixing with the likes of Joe, Peggy, and Erica.”

“And you?” she said with a hike of her chin.

He smiled. “Yeah . . . especially me.” He folded his arms. “So . . . you gonna let me walk you home, or are you going to stay and get in more trouble?”

She heaved a heavy sigh, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be home safe in her bed. She crossed her arms to her waist and peered up with a jut of her jaw. “I’ll go,” she said with a threat in her tone, “but I’d stay if I wanted to.”

He grinned, gently pressing her shoulder to the wall. “I’m sure you would. Stay here. I’ll get your sweater and purse and tell the others.”

“Wait!” She jerked forward, hand to his arm. “You’re not going to tell ’em anything to make me look like some, some . . . ,” she gulped, cheeks warm, “little baby, are you?”

A boyish smile curved on his mouth as he tweaked a lock of her hair. “No, ‘baby doll,’ ” he said, a hint of laughter twinkling in his eyes. “I’ll just tell them you’re sick to your stomach.”

“But I’m not,” she said, no longer comfortable with telling any more lies.

With a gentle tap of her nose, he gave her a look that quivered her belly. “Oh yes you are, kiddo.” He turned to weave his way through the crowd, but not before delivering a final glance over his shoulder. “’Cause if kissing Brubaker
didn’t make you want to throw up your supper, you either have a cast-iron stomach . . .” his smile took a slant, “or one monumental tolerance for pain.”

A grin tugged as Steven made his way through the crowd to where Annie stood welded to the wall, hugging his jacket like a shield to ward off unwelcome attention. It all but swallowed her whole as her anxious eyes scanned the throng of people, reducing her to the little girl he’d rescued in the street. His grin broke free and he shook his head.
A sore thumb, no doubt about it
, he thought with a sigh.
Snow White in a sea of scarlet women 
. . .

A man approached her, and every muscle in Steven’s body tensed as if it were his little sister plastered against that wall. He watched as she shook her head before dropping her gaze to the floor, and the knot in his stomach slowly unraveled.
Good girl.

Her pinched look relaxed when she spotted him, and instantly a soft wash of pink stole into her cheeks. He exhaled slowly, certain he was doing the right thing by taking her home.

“Here.” He replaced his coat with her bulky sweater. “Button up, ’cause sea air gets cold.” Waiting, he finally returned her purse and put his own jacket on, then hooked her elbow. “Where do you live?” he asked, his tone as impersonal as if he were processing paperwork at the office.

———

Where do I live?
Air clotted in Annie’s throat at the revelation he’d be walking her home to a house he might recognize if Maggie had taken him there. She absently gnawed on her lip.
Probably not, though.
Maggie lived in the Radcliffe dorm and couldn’t abide Aunt Eleanor either, even though her aunt’s money afforded an education few women enjoyed. Annie drew in a bolstering breath, realizing she’d have to take
her chances. And if Steven O’Connor and his friends found out she was Maggie’s sister? A knot dipped in her throat. Well, then so be it. She certainly knew she’d have to tell them eventually, but not just yet, at least not till she had a chance to try her wings and experience what Maggie had.

She sucked in a deep draw of air. Besides, from the rift mentioned in Maggie’s letters between her, Erica, and Joanie and their catty comments tonight, Annie was pretty sure neither of them would want anything to do with her, nor would Steven, most likely. She peeked up, noting dark stubble on his clean-shaven jaw as he towed her down the moonlit piazza to the ramp of the Pier and suddenly decided she wanted more time in Maggie’s world. After all, it wasn’t as if she were lying, actually . . . She gulped. Just delaying the truth a wee bit.

With another deep breath, she finally mustered the courage to tell him her address. “Beacon Hill,” she muttered, out of breath from trying to keep up.

The sculpted profile turned, a ridge forming between dark brows. “Whereabouts?” His curious gaze flitted down her misshapen, bulky cardigan in apparent sympathy, as if he knew it were a faded hand-me-down from her mother.

Heat burnished her cheeks. “Louisburg Square.”

Steven whistled while he studied her with a half smile. “A little rich girl, huh?”

“Not me, my aunt,” she said with a bite in her tone.

“You don’t like her?” He eyed her with a squint.

She huffed out a weary sigh, guilt creeping in over the strained relationship with her mother’s sister. “Not really, but we just moved in three months ago, so maybe it’ll change.” She pulled on the sleeves of her sweater to tuck her fingers inside, wishing she’d worn her coat and gloves as Aunt Eleanor always nagged her to do. “Although I have my doubts.”

“Why?” He clasped her arm to help her across the dark beach.

Pulse racing, she forced herself to concentrate. His firm hold made her forget all about the cold, and she stumbled over
a lump in the sand, causing his grip to tighten. “Well, Aunt Eleanor never married, you see, so she knows nothing about being a parent or a guardian. Despite the fact I’ll be eighteen in two months and I took care of Daddy and my little sister after Mama died, she treats me like a child.” They reached the boulevard, and he looked both ways, carefully steering her across. On the other side, he released her arm, and immediately the fog cleared from her mind, allowing her to focus on her aunt. “When it comes to my life, she’s as rigid as the wood in this boardwalk. Things like ridiculous curfews, forcing me to go to catechism class, and refusing to let me bob my hair.”

He shot her a sideways grin. “Sounds like a smart woman to me.”

She peered up, head cocked. “Spoken like a true tight-lipped arm of the law, Agent O’Connor, nose to the grindstone as Joe so aptly pointed out.”

A boisterous group of men and women spilled out of a noisy dance hall, and Annie’s heart swooped when Steven shored up the small of her back, guiding her past. He glanced over, his angled smile matching hers. “A tight-lipped arm of the law with his nose to the grindstone who saved your pretty hide tonight, I might add—
twice
.”