The Temptation of Laura (10 page)

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Authors: Rachel Brimble

BOOK: The Temptation of Laura
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Her door slammed and he whipped around to Baxter.
He grabbed Baxter’s lapel and slammed his fist into Baxter’s gut once more. The air rushed from his lungs before he erupted into a barrage of coughing and spluttering. Adam gripped his hair and yanked him upright.
“You listen to me.” He spoke slowly and carefully, despite the catcalls and shouts coming from the growing crowd of spectators. “I am going to get Laura and Bette out of here. They will not be back. If you happen to pass either of them on the street and so much as look at them, I will hunt you down and kill you.” He yanked on Baxter’s hair again. “Do I make myself clear?”
“You really think Laura will leave with you?” Baxter smiled, blood framing his front teeth. “That girl is a sentimental fool. She’ll not leave her friend, neighbor, or the damn kid who sits at the end of the alley trying to catch a coin or two from a passing gentleman. She’s her own worst enemy. She ain’t got no one but Bette looking out for her. You’ll have your fill and then toss her aside just like her mama did.”
“The hell I will. That woman is phenomenal.” Adam trembled with rage. “Maybe up until now no one has taken the time to show her that. Maybe no one has bothered to see her for who she really is.” He tapped Baxter none too gently on the cheek. “That is fine. I am here now and I am telling you, Laura Robinson’s life is going to change forever.”
Adam landed Baxter a final punch in the stomach and he went down like a lead weight. With his shoulders straight, Adam climbed the steps to Laura’s door, raised his battered hand, and knocked.
Chapter 10
The knock on the door jangled Laura’s stretched nerves tighter. She snapped her gaze to Bette’s. “What if that’s Baxter rather than Adam?”
Bette glanced toward the window. “If I know Baxter, he would’ve been carrying a damn knife.” She grimaced. “Chances are that won’t be Lacey on the other side of the door.”
Laura closed her eyes as nausea rose on a vile wave in her stomach. “Don’t say that.”
The letterbox clanged open. “Laura? You have to let me in. Please, listen to me.”
She opened her eyes and Bette blurred in Laura’s vision. Adam. He was all right. She rushed from the living room into the hallway and pulled open the door. He stood there, his hair disheveled and his gaze desperate. Why was she so stupidly happy to see him? So moved by his actions to defend her? Why did she want to kiss him until she couldn’t breathe?
“Laura, please. I am serious. It does not matter to me what you might or might not have done—”
She grabbed his jacket and pulled him inside. With her eyes locked on his, she slammed the door shut. Her heart beat fast and her body quivered with raw desire and an overwhelming relief he was unharmed. Without further thought or sensibility, she pushed him against the wall and stood on her toes. “You’re alive.”
He laughed. “Well, of course, I—”
She pressed her lips roughly to his, consuming and branding. The same powerful sense that a happy future was possible when they’d kissed before overtook her heart again. Her body shook for him. Wanted him. She held on to his arms and kissed him harder, deeper. Their tongues tangled and their hands discovered. As his fingers traveled over her back and hips, Laura mirrored his exploration. He was hard, strong, and muscular. Her mind soared to imagine the feel of his smooth, bare skin beneath her palms.
He gripped her waist and steered backward until her bottom touched a table against the wall. He gently cupped her jaw as he continued to kiss her, his lips firm and possessive.
They parted and their breathing filled the small space. She kept her eyes firmly closed, not wanting to see him. Not wanting to linger on the reality that even though he defended her honor, he could never be hers. So why did that only make him more attractive?
His lips gently kissed her neck. A soft, silent question. She tilted her head to the side, allowing him access and confirming her permission. The tentative nip of teeth and caress of tongue lingered lower to her collarbone. She released her held breath and moisture coated her most intimate place—a new and exciting response to a man after experiencing such dry and unfeeling sex for more years than she wanted to remember.
Bette.
Laura snapped her eyes wide open and pushed her hand to his chest.
He stepped back. His eyes were hooded with desire, his chest rising and falling. “Laura—”
She touched her fingertips to her tender lips and shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” She stepped away from the table.
“We can’t do this.”
She hurried into the living room and climbed onto the bed beside Bette. She gathered her friend—her strength—into her arms and pressed a kiss to Bette’s hair. With her arms wrapped around the familiarity she’d come to rely on, Laura released her held breath and met Adam’s stare as he stood in the doorway.
She swallowed. “He’s all right. Adam’s all right.”
Bette patted her leg. “But you’re not. You deserve this, you know.”
“Deserve what?” Laura frowned, her heart racing. What was Bette saying? Did she suspect what Laura already knew? She was falling head over sense in lust with a star of the stage.
Adam’s face was in shadow and his shoulders high. A stance of determination. Her stomach twisted with trepidation when he entered the room. With his face lit by candlelight, he glanced from her to Bette and back again. He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut. Laura tensed, thankful for Bette’s silence, although it must have been nearly killing the woman to be keeping her thoughts to herself.
He circled the room. Once. Twice. He came to a standstill and faced them.
Laura sucked in a breath. “You should go.”
“I will once you are ready to come with me.”
She blanched. “Come with you? What on earth are you suggesting?”
Bette struggled away from Laura’s embrace and hitched higher against the pillow. She coughed. “You want Laura to go with you?”
“Of course he doesn’t.” She squeezed Bette’s hand but couldn’t drag her gaze from Adam’s. “You need to leave. Knowing Baxter, he’ll be back here at first light. No doubt with some of his paid cronies to see if you’re still here. If they find you, you’ll be lucky to walk away with your kneecaps intact.” She slid her arms from Bette and left the bed, forcing false conviction into her voice. “Go. Please.”
He crossed his arms, his jaw tight. “Pack a bag for you and Bette. You are coming with me.”
Her heart pounded. “Have you lost your mind? I’m not going anywhere.”
“I am not leaving you here. It is not safe. I want you both to come live with me.”
Bette’s crack of laughter encapsulated Laura’s state of disbelief perfectly. She shook her head. “You really are living in a world of your own.”
He glared. “Why stay in a place without heat and light when I have plenty of both. Why stay where Baxter can come and harangue you anytime he sees fit?”
Unease whispered a warning over the hairs at the nape of her neck. She fisted her hands on her hips. What did he want from her? Was he insane? Dangerous? Yet the thought of accepting his ludicrous proposal inched into her consideration. It was as though the soft touch of his lips and the gentle tone of his words battered through her defenses and blinded her beyond all reason.
She dug her nails into her palms, struggling to retain a semblance of rationale amid the sexual chaos battling around inside her. “You’re saying you want two whores to pack up and come live with you? Just like that.”
He looked from her to Bette. “Yes, I know the journey across town will be hard for Bette to endure, but I can arrange for a carriage. Please, just say yes.”
She gave a wry smile, ignoring the twist of trepidation in her stomach. “And what of your career? Your reputation? Don’t you think inviting us into your home will raise a few eyebrows amongst your society? Or does that not matter to you?”
“I will deal with that.”
She huffed out a laugh. “I get the impression nothing matters to you past your career. What is it you really have in mind for us, Mr. Lacey? Because, right now, I’m not buying this offer comes from the goodness of your heart.”
God knows, I wish it was. . . .
The ensuing silence spoke volumes and Laura narrowed her eyes against her disappointment. She opened her mouth to tell him to leave again when Bette’s huffing and puffing stole her attention. She turned. Bette was in the midst of untangling the bedclothes from her legs and moving from the bed.
Laura rushed forward. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Bette halted, her face red with exertion, and exhaustion showing in the dark shadows under her eyes. “The man’s asking us to go live in his house. I’m getting out of this damn bed before he changes his mind.”
“Are you insane? You carry on like this you’ll make yourself more poorly than ever.”
Bette glared. “We’re going. I want out of this damn alley and away from Baxter. For both of us.”
“But—”
“No buts. I’ve made up my mind.” She gripped the bedpost. “Let’s do this. Right now. I want you safe and happy. There’s more chance of that happening at Mr. Lacey’s home than here.”
“You’re ill. Have you forgotten that?”
“How could I with you reminding me every damn minute? I won’t lie in this bed when we have the chance to get out of this godforsaken place. Don’t even think about trying to stop me.”
Laura stared. Words failed her. Never in a month of Sundays would she have thought Bette would agree to such an outrageous suggestion—further proof of just how ill she truly was. Laura started when Adam touched her elbow.
“Laura, look at me.”
She turned but didn’t really see him. “This is madness.” She shook her head. “Less than a week ago, I left this house to go to the market. That was it. Go to the market and come home again with food for my dearest friend. I went to bed and prayed to God, asking Him to do something, anything to make Bette well again. Now tonight, you’re suggesting it’s perfectly sane for us to pack up and move in with you.”
“Maybe your prayers have been answered in a way you cannot see or accept.”
She glared. “Don’t mock me.”
“I’m not. I am
begging
you. If you do this, it will mean I can work with you night and day on the play while Bette rests in warmth and comfort.”
“Work with me? But—”
He grasped her hands. “I want you in my play.”
Irritation soared into her blood and hurt into her heart. None of this was about her or Bette. It was all about his stupid damn play. “Go. I want you to leave. It’s nearing midnight. Just leave and I’ll see you tomorrow at the theater.”
She turned her back to him and faced Bette. “Get back into that bed. We’re not going anywhere. I’ve lived my life my way for a long time. I don’t need this from another man who thinks of nothing more than what use I can be to him.” She whirled around. “If you think for one second you can waltz into our life and turn it upside down, you are sorely mistaken.”
Bette tugged on her arm and Laura turned. “What?”
Bette pinned her with a glare. “And what about me?”
Aware of Adam watching them, Laura silently pleaded with her friend not to fight her on this. “I’m doing this for you. Can’t you see he wants something from us?”
“How much longer do you think I’m going to last?”
Laura’s stomach knotted with fear to see such coldness in Bette’s eyes. They had barely shared a cross word in all the years they’d known, worked, and lived with each other. “What do you mean?”
“I’m sick and I’m dying.” Bette’s voice cracked and her eyes turned glassy with unshed tears. “The blood is still coming up when I cough. My chest hurts and my lungs are clogged. So if Mr. Lacey wants you, damn well let him have you. For me. Let me die in a home instead of a damn hovel.”
Bette put her bare feet on the floor. Laura said nothing when Adam came from behind her and clasped Bette’s elbows, helping her stand. The lack of control tasted bitter. There was no other option than to grant Bette anything she asked. Deep in her heart, she couldn’t deny Bette grew frailer every day. Odd bouts of attitude showed her determination to fight, but the lapses when she didn’t move or talk lasted longer and longer.
Blinking against the cruel sting of tears, Laura touched Adam’s back and he straightened. She stared into his handsome face. “Leave us to get ready. Get a carriage, a horse, whatever you think it is that will get us from here across town. We’ll be ready as soon as we can.”
He smiled and blew out a breath. “You won’t regret this. It will be a lot of work, but we’re going to make it happen.”
“If by
it
you mean your play, I think you’ve lost all grasp on reality. I’m agreeing to come home with you for one reason and one reason only. Bette. My friend. The only person I’ve been able to rely on my entire life.” Tears clogged her throat. “I don’t trust you. I don’t believe in fairy tales or heroes on horseback. This is the real world. Sooner or later, you’ll show who you are and rest assured, I’ll see you clearly the very first time that happens.”
He stared, his gaze intense with determination. “I’ve already shown you who I am. More times than I’ve ever shown anyone.” He turned to Bette. “I’ll see you soon.”
She gave a curt nod. “That you will.”
Laura stared at a spot on the wall as he swept past her. Once the front door opened and slammed shut behind him, she faced Bette. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
Bette grasped her hand tightly. “This is the right thing to do. Come hell or high water, I swear to God that man is going to change your life.”
Laura sniffed. “I agree. The question is, am I going to end up worse off than I would have if I hadn’t walked into that theater? Maybe there was good reason why I never dared stepped inside there before.”
Bette’s hand slipped from hers and she hobbled away, holding on to the furniture as she lurched to the door. “I see good things in your future, missy. All the good you’ve done is going to come back and sweep you right off your feet.”
Bette left the room and Laura looked toward the window and the pitch-black night beyond. “Maybe he already has.”
 
Adam stood at his dining room table and fiddled with the Michaelmas daisies he’d put in a vase and placed in the center. Why wouldn’t that damn bloom stand straight? His hands shook and he swiped his arm over his perspiring forehead. Since when did he fuss over flowers or get nervous in his own home? What in God’s name had he done?
The dining-room door swung open and he snatched his hand from the vase, plastering on a wide smile.
“Ladies, good morning.” He gestured to the table. “Are you hungry?”
Laura led Bette carefully by the arm into the room. Her friend’s inner strength and fortitude were still as strong as they had been when they’d left their house the evening before. Arguing with Bette’s determination to come downstairs had been equally as futile as Laura’s protestations about them coming to Adam’s home, so she’d given up.
She nodded toward the table. “Did you do all this?”
He glanced toward what he considered a minimal breakfast, but judging by the expression on Laura’s face, it was far too much. “Do you not like toast and eggs? I can find some meats? Or cheese?”
Her smile was tentative, but when she met his gaze, a quiet joy shone in her eyes. His heart twisted. God, she was beautiful.
She laughed. “You are full of surprises, Adam Lacey.”

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