The Temptation of Laura (20 page)

Silence descended and two spots of color darkened his cheeks. He grimaced. “I was hoping you would be happy with one.”

Time stood still.
Of course he did. She was a whore after all.
Self-preservation simmered like fire in her blood. Her pride poked and prodded it alight. She glared. “I didn’t come to London to resume a previous life. I came here to start a new one.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I won’t share a bed with you while you pay to feed and shelter me. That makes me the same woman I was before. I don’t want your money for services rendered.”

The previous excitement vanished from his gaze and turned to irritation. “You really think I am here in London with you, like this, with no plan or idea what to do next because I want
sex
?”

She flinched as he spat the word at her. “I just—”

“This is about so much more than that. So much more.” He stared at her mouth before raising his eyes to hers. “I had hoped it was the same for you.”

Shame seared her cheeks and she closed her eyes, her stiff shoulders slumping. “It is.” She opened her eyes. “It is. I’m sorry.”

They stood frozen as people passed. Her heart beat fast and fear rose. She didn’t want to send away the only good thing she had to hold on to. How could she have leapt on him in such a way?

“Adam—”

He pushed his hand through his hair and smiled. “Come on. We are in London. We can do what we want, when we want.” He lifted the cases. “If you do not want to share a bed with me, I will respect that. But, for me, the thought of waking up with you tomorrow . . .” He exhaled a shaky breath.

Laura’s stomach knotted and her center pulled.

He cleared his throat. “We will pose as husband and wife, if it will make you feel better.”

Pose. Act. Pretend. She pushed her negativity aside before it could fester once again. “All right. Why not? Life’s one big adventure, after all.” She gestured along the street. “Shall we?”

He flashed her a smile and turned.

Blinking back traitorous tears, she followed behind him. Her monthly bleed still hadn’t arrived, and she was relying on a man whom she’d barely known six weeks for food, shelter, and love. She waited for Bette’s laughter in her ear, or even her friend’s whispered words telling her to grow a backbone. Anything. Nothing came but lonely silence.

They’d barely covered more than a few yards and Adam pushed open the door of a tavern. Laura looked at the sign swinging above the door before following him inside. The Golden Lion wasn’t very golden. She squinted through the screen of cigarette smoke that drifted above their heads and almost to their shoes. With the air of a man used to being in such places, Adam strode toward the bar.

Pride rushed through her. To see Adam Lacey treading the boards in his finery, or even taking tea at his house in Bath, she would never have imagined the man could blend so easily into such surroundings.

She mentally admonished herself. He was an actor, wasn’t he? A fact she’d do well to remember. She moved her hand to her stomach and quickly snatched it away, planting it on her hip instead.

Tilting her chin, she dragged on her most confident expression as Adam removed his hat and dipped his head to a woman as tall as she was wide standing at the end of the bar. They needed somewhere to stay for the night. Laura pulled back her shoulders. It was time to think with her damn head and pummel her stupid heart into submission.

“Good evening, madam.” Adam smiled. “I wonder if you’re the person in charge?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I am. Can I help you?”

He turned and waved Laura forward. Taking a deep breath, she moved to his side and smiled. If Adam thought she could act before, he hadn’t seen anything. She dipped a slight curtsy. Experience had taught her a woman like this, who ran a tavern and bore a chip on her shoulder so heavy it made her lean to the side from the weight of it, would undoubtedly welcome some female civility. “How do you do, madam.”

The woman straightened, interest sparking her eyes. “Good evening.” She nodded before she glanced at Adam. “To you both. Is it a drink you’re looking for? Food? A room?”

Adam smiled. “Two out of three, if possible. A glass of ale and a room for the time being.”

Laura kept her eyes firmly on the lady’s face, even as nerves and apprehension danced inside her belly. It had been a long time since she’d been homeless, and the feeling she’d been catapulted back to a time where she was once more reliant on others didn’t sit well at all.

The woman rounded the bar and drew a leather-bound book from beneath the counter. With her eyes flitting from Adam to Laura, she flicked the pages before coming to an abrupt stop at a fourth page.

She glanced down and plucked a pencil from her hair. “I can offer you a double room, but you need to take it for a minimum of two nights.”

“That is fine.” Adam gave a curt nod. “If we can agree on a price satisfactory to us both, we will take it for a week.”

The woman snapped her head up. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion once more. “A week? Ain’t you just passing through? This ain’t no fancy bed and breakfast, sir. This is a tavern.”

“Indeed. And I suspect the price will reflect as much?”

Laura bit back a smile. Adam was clearly keeping his money back for more important things than bed and board. Why did the man have to continually enamor her by taking her by surprise? Did he already know she couldn’t abide the waste of money on comforts and finery when survival was all that counted?

The woman shot them each another frown of distrust before she licked the end of her pencil and turned her attention to the ledger. “Mr. and Mrs. . . .”

Adam glanced at Laura. “Lacey, madam. Mr. and Mrs. Adam Lacey.”

Laura closed her eyes as she tried and failed to stop the hurried pounding of her heart or ignore the way every fiber in her body came alive to hear him say such a thing even if there was no chance of it ever becoming a reality. A gentleman actor and a whore married? Who had ever heard of such a thing?

London. Adam smiled and stared across the wide expanse of the River Thames. The magnificent Houses of Parliament glowed like a beacon under the purple-black of nightfall. His heart was fit to bursting. Laura stood so close the heat from her body seeped into his skin, and he fought the desire to embrace her, kiss her . . . damn well ravish her. His blood burned with unspent adrenaline, and his mind raced with possibility.

He had locked up his home and run away with a woman who stirred something so deep inside him, he dared not name it. London offered abundant opportunity, but if Laura had refused to come, he would have gone wherever she desired. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. He would not tell her what was happening to him. Would not tell her how he could literally feel his old person disappearing like the shed skin of a snake. Not yet. It was too soon.

As hard as she tried to hide it, he sensed her distrust. She grieved for a friend who meant everything to her, and he feared she carried the misplaced belief it was her fault Baxter beat Monica. He had to convince his sweetheart just how wonderfully talented, intelligent, and beautiful she was.

He had never felt so whole. The blinders were gone from his eyes. The hollow in his heart had been filled. His stomach knotted. Somehow, he would find a way to tell Laura what happened in Bristol and they could make a fresh start, with honesty at the forefront from that moment forward.

He pushed away from the stone wall and Laura straightened. She tipped her head to look at him and Adam fell a little deeper in love as he looked into her eyes. His heart stopped. Beneath the lamplight, her eyes glowed like amethysts and her tears flickered like purple diamonds on her lashes. He brushed his thumbs under her eyes before drawing his hands lower to cup her jaw.

“Is it Bette?”

She nodded and another tear escaped. “Yes.”

He dipped his head and caught the saltiness of her tear with the tip of his tongue before pressing his lips to her cheek. “Let me at least try to look after you as she did,” he whispered. “Please.”

She shook her head. “It’s too soon for that. Bette was everything to me.”

Would his selfishness never end? He pulled back. “You are right. I am sorry.” He took her hand and put it in the crook of his elbow. “Let’s go find somewhere quiet to eat. Are you hungry?”

She smiled softly. “A little.”

“Then we will eat just a little.”

He led her along the river bank toward Westminster Bridge. They crossed the dark waters toward a rank of two or three eateries that appeared welcoming. He chose one with a striped awning and blackened board scrawled with chalk, advertising hot pie and potatoes.

Laura slipped her hand from his arm as they entered. He instantly missed the weight of it. Inhaling a deep breath, Adam chose a table by the window that provided a good view of the street. He pulled out one of the two chairs for her.

“Why don’t you sit down and I will speak to the man behind the counter. Would you like a hot potato? Maybe a pie?”

She looked past his shoulder toward the counter. “Anything is fine.”

He stared at her a moment longer. So much unease graced her pretty features. Was she regretting their decision to come to London before their time there had even begun?

Leaving her alone, he ordered their food before returning to the table and taking a seat. She continued to gaze through the window as though she had no idea he was there.

Adam gently touched her arm. “You must talk to me about anything that is worrying you. If your thoughts are of Bette, then I will not badger you and leave you in peace to grieve, but if there is anything else?”

She faced him and her gaze swept slowly over his face. “I am miserable without Bette, but it feels right being here. In London. With you.”

Relief pushed out the breath he had not known he had been holding. He smiled. “It feels good to hear you say that.”

She smiled and reached for some cutlery and a napkin from a wooden box in the center of the table. “Ever since we arrived, I’ve been waiting for a bell as big as the one in the Elizabeth Tower to peal inside my head. Ring with its warning and tell me in no uncertain terms to return to Bath.” She met his eyes. “It hasn’t come.”

“I am glad.”

Her smile dissolved as she concentrated on placing her knife and fork side by side and her napkin across her lap just so. Adam reached for her hand. “I wish I had been there for you when Bette passed.”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

“I know, but—”

“No buts. You were busy in Bristol.”

Adam waited for her to say more, but she remained silent. His heart beat fast. Did she already know what happened in Bristol? That he had been there under false pretenses and was more of a whore than she had been before she had taken the chance to better herself?

“Laura—”

“I’m scared, Adam.” She took in a lengthy breath and faced him. “Scared of your certainty I’m Lucinda. Moreover, scared that I’m not. I’m scared why you look at me the way you do, but most of all, I’m scared we’re in a city as big and dangerous as London when we barely know each other.”

He reached for her hand and gratitude washed through him when she let him take it. He squeezed her fingers. “I have no more idea than you what will happen next, but we are here and we will try our damndest to woo a director or investor to get the play up and running. I believe in you. You are Lucinda. Please, Laura, trust me.”

He exhaled. “I think it is time I told you what happened in Bristol.”

Her violet eyes shone in the semidarkness.

He swallowed the bitter taste of self-disgust that rose in his throat. “I lied to you, Laura.”

She slowly pulled her hand from his and her shoulders stiffened. “About what?”

Shame seared hot at Adam’s face as guilt twisted inside. He drew in a shaky breath. “There was an investor. A woman. A woman I have known for a while. A woman who has kept me in work these past twelve months.”

She frowned. “Who?”

“Her name is Lady Annabel Harvard. She pursued me from Bristol to Bath after seeing me in a small play there.”

“I don’t understand. How has she kept you in work?”

“She is rich, lonely, and bored.”

Her intelligent, beguiling eyes bored into his and his mouth drained dry as he waited for her response. Yet, pride lifted his chin. He might be a fool, but he was also a man trying his best to grasp his dreams by any means, rather than let them slip through his fingers.

Surely she would understand that? Surely she would not judge him as he judged himself?

The intensity of her study ensnared him the way every philanderer deserved to be caught—by the balls. She cleared her throat. “What is it you’re trying to tell me?”

The rotund and jolly man who had taken his order appeared with their food and Laura looked to the table. The brim of her hat obscured her face and he had no way of knowing what she was thinking. There had been a strange lilt to her tone, and it confused him. He frowned.

“You folks just passing through, are ye?” The man put down two plates laden with food and straightened their cutlery.

Adam snapped his gaze to the proprietor and forced a smile. “Um, no. We have just recently arrived but plan to stay a while. London, after all, is the place of prosperity. Is it not?”

The man looked at him as though Adam had a bullring pierced through his septum. After a moment, the proprietor emitted a gravelly burst of laughter and slapped Adam hard on the shoulder. “Absolutely. No better place to make your fortune than the big city. From the country, are ye?”

“Bath, actually.”

“Then you will be no stranger to people with thin air for dreams and hungry bellies that eat ’em. Enjoy your food.”

The man waddled away and Adam stared after him. “Bloody fool. We will prove him wrong.”

He turned.

Laura’s pretty eyebrows were lifted in expectation, her gaze almost teasing. “What are you trying to tell me about Bristol?”

Own it, you fool. She likes you. She is in London with you, isn’t she?
He kept his eyes level with hers as a strange calmness swept over him. He had done what he had done, and life was too short to waste precious time in regret. He was here now and he would not return to Annabel. Ever.

“She used her influence to secure me parts in the last two plays I starred in. I was impatient. I could not wait for my break. I had my father sneering and spitting at my lack of success, and my mother mortified by her lowly actor son.” He took a breath. “I stopped sleeping with Annabel the moment I laid eyes on you. As time went on, I sensed you slipping away from me. I didn’t have very long to convince you to stay and play Lucinda. I panicked and, like a coward without backbone, I fled back to Annabel and asked her to invest in my play. She said yes.”

Laura’s expression was blank. Rather than her skin being lit bright red with anger as he had expected, it remained as pale as porcelain. The silence bore down on him as their pie and potatoes steamed between them. He sucked in a breath. “Won’t you say something?”

Silence.

On and on she stared, until he thought his racing heart would burst clean out of his chest. The longer she stared, the more his misplaced pride gave way to irritation. He snatched up his fork and stabbed into his pie; the steam erupted in a gray plume between them. The next word uttered would be hers.

“So, in return for money, you had sex with her?” She picked up her knife and fork.

He lifted his chin. “Yes.”

“Then you will again.”

He gritted his teeth. “I will not.”

She quirked her eyebrow, the first break in her almost wax-like expression. “How can you be so sure? No one can make a promise like that. We do what we have to do.”

“It was over the minute I came back to Bath and saw you again.” He tightened his jaw. “I will not sleep with another woman as long as you are with me. It is you, Laura. It is you I want in my bed and in my life.”

She nodded slowly. “You want me in your bed.”

“Yes.”

“I see.” She popped a cut of potato into her mouth and chewed.

With each movement of her jaw, her eyes lit a little brighter.

He frowned. “What are you thinking?”

Her smile broke and she tipped her head back. Her laugh was loud, brash, and entirely infectious. It shriveled the tense atmosphere into oblivion. Her booming laughter was hearty in warmth and glorious amusement.

Adam smiled and stared at the creamy white column of her throat. “What is so funny?”

She slapped her hand to her chest. “You’re more ambitious than I gave you credit for, Mr. Lacey. Where there’s a will, there’s a way, right? Bette would’ve absolutely come to love you.”

He laughed. “You are not angry?”

She swiped at her eyes. “Angry? I have no hold on you. No claim. You’re your own man, and don’t you ever let anyone tell you differently. As for wanting me in your bed . . .”

His cock stirred as her laughter quieted and her eyes turned dark.

“Let’s eat this delicious food Mr. Optimistic has served us and we’ll see what’s next on the menu, shall we?”

 

Laura had no idea if it was damnable how liberating Adam’s moral failings were on her, but, by God, it was good to know he was equally as guilty of making foolhardy decisions. The thought he owed her any explanation was as flattering as it was ludicrous. Never in her life had a man given a damn what she thought of him—and now Adam cared. More than cared. He wanted her for the long-term as much as she did him.

Hand in hand, they laughed and kissed, stopped and stared into each other’s eyes as they headed back to the tavern, as though it was to their honeymoon bed rather than a tryst for lovers posing as husband and wife.

Adam pushed open the pub door and Laura struggled to wipe the smile from her lips as they wove between the patrons toward the staircase at the back of the saloon. She followed him up the steps, reveling in the stares that followed them. This time there wasn’t any turning her face to the wall. As far as anyone knew, they were husband and wife. She held her head high.

This was no secret tryst. Nothing immoral or illegal. At least not to them. He slipped the key into the lock and pushed open the bedroom door. He turned and swept a low bow, his arm directed toward the room beyond.

“After you, my lady.”

She entered and turned to face him. Her heart pounded when he shoved the door closed and came toward her without finesse or decorum. She dropped her drawstring bag to the floor and he pushed her against the wall. Her breasts ached for him and her cunny throbbed. Had he read her mind that she wanted him to take her like this? Have her. Own her. Possess her.

Fear, frustration, grief, and passion whirled inside as though her heart was an engine rather than a muscle. She needed this. She needed Adam. She needed to act on the all-encompassing liberty he’d given her by admitting his mistakes: that he’d succumbed to paid sex in no different a situation than she had.

“Laura, Laura, Laura . . .” He whispered her name over her skin as he kissed her jaw, lower over the sensitive curve of her neck as he gripped her waist.

She clung to his biceps, her nails digging into the hardened muscles. He claimed her mouth once more and she shamelessly teased his tongue with hers, softly then hard with intent. A low growl came from deep within and he tugged at the buttons lining the front of her dress. She fumbled her hands into his jacket, desperate to rid him of that and the shirt beneath, desperate to get to hot, taut skin.

It was taking too long. Everything was cumbersome and in the way of what she needed. With her hands at his jaw, she eased him back and stared deep into his eyes. Unadulterated lust shone in their dark brown depths, frustration showed in the flush at his cheeks, and raw masculinity in the set line of his jaw.