Winning Bess

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Winning Bess ISBN 9781419918629 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Winning Bess Copyright © 2008 Marissa Alwin Edited by Nicholas Conrad. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication September 2008 With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

WINNING BESS Marissa Alwin

Marissa Alwin

Chapter One Five Points, New York City 1847 Don’t look. Don’t peek. Just breathe. His body burned with lust. The rough cloth of his trousers kept his stiff cock in place. He balled up his hands so he wouldn’t fondle himself. Even in the dark corner on his sleeping pallet, he didn’t want to get caught rubbing his manhood. “Colm Devaney, are you listening ta me?” Bess asked from her side of the room. Water splashed in a bowl. He swallowed. Sure he was listening. Sort of. It’d be easier if Bess didn’t have her top down around her waist as she washed her breasts. Big, firm, round breasts. Breasts meant to fill a man’s hands. A thin blanket ran between the walls as a barrier, but with the candle burning on her side, the material offered no protection at all. Hungrily, he peeked once more as her father’s snores rattled the roof of the alleyway shack. A hand lingered over a breast before she lifted her arm and washed her side, shoulder and arm. When his cock twitched, he bit back a moan. Sweat broke out on his forehead. Thankfully she’d soon be asleep, giving him the privacy he needed to bring himself to release. His balls tightened in anticipation. He hated waiting.

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“I’ve made up my mind.” She rung out the rag to wash the other arm. “I’ve got no other choice…” “What?” He sat up, only to wince. Shifting, he managed to get his cock a little more freedom. “What other choice?” Bess turned to face his direction. “You big lug. I knew you hadn’t been listening.” In a huff, she turned away. Damn English dogs. No. The English may have driven him from Ireland to America, but Colm had no one but himself to blame for this situation. Still, it was nice to blame the English. When Bess’ father had come to him for aid, Colm couldn’t say no. He hadn’t wanted to. Truth be told, he’d thanked the Lord for the opportunity to get closer to Bess. She and her father had no other relatives, just as many other immigrants found themselves alone here. Only he hadn’t known how hard living with Bess would be. And before bed was the worst. Her bath routine seemed to be getting longer and longer. Bess peered at him over the blanket once more. “I’m going to take O’Boyle up on his offer. It won’t make me a fortune but it will help with the cost of Da’s medicine.” There was sad resignation in her voice. Bile of both disgust and worry churned its way up from his stomach. The mention of the thieving O’Boyle’s name alone sickened him. In a flash, he was across the room, offering her a glare of his own. “Over my dead body.” He’d be long dead before Bess would work for that scum. She gasped. He took another step forward. Too close, but he didn’t care. “You’ll not work for the likes of that rat bastard.” While he and countless others had needed to come to New York, far too many of them fell prey to those uncaring like O’Boyle. The city could be far crueler than death by starvation. Neither false temptation or hunger would claim Bess. 5

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“You’re not me father.” She lifted her chin in defiance. “I’ll be making my own decisions.” A tremble set in. Anger and desire mingled in his blood. He wanted to have a say over her choices. At least the dangerous choices. Damn it and damn the English. Don’t be getting any ideas, Colm. Me daughter is too good for the likes of you. She’s meant for someone special. Not an English bastard. I thank you for your protection all the same. The dying man’s words echoed once more in his head. Colm was no fool. Bess’ father had sought aid from him because of his height and ready fists. Standing too close to the makeshift barrier, he blinked down over the blanket at the eyeful he’d been given—or had taken. Big lush breasts tipped with dark rosy nipples stood straight out for his view. “Get your eyes back in your head, Colm Devaney.” She snatched her top up. “What do you take me for?” Air rushed from his lungs as he turned away. Bess was a beauty, with her white skin and red hair. And those flashing amber eyes. “I could fight. There’s one coming up with a big prize.” Lately, the upcoming fight was all anyone talked about in the Points. The Lord above knew he wanted Bess. He’d be willing to risk his life for her. “What do you mean?” “I could fight for money.” He swallowed. Winning was a possibility. He was big. Better yet, he was fast on his feet. Every night before he came home, he spent an hour where his cousin worked, beating the dead animal carcasses with his fists. “If I win we’d have enough for both our dreams.” “Oh.” The sound was no more than a breath. “We could take your father where the air is supposed to be drier.” And just maybe the old man would think differently of him.

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He’d no sooner gotten settled back on his pallet when Bess settled onto her knees beside him. Her top was haphazardly in place. The yearning of desire returned full force. His balls tightened. Not once in the short time she lived there had Bess ever been on his side of the room. The heat of shame crawled up his neck. A single fucking hellhole was where they lived. At least Bess and her father had cots, while he and his two cousins slept on pallets. “You’d do that for me, Colm?” “I would.” “Those fighters…” Bess’ breath quickened. The rise and fall of her breasts surely matched the wild beating of his heart. Her father would likely find the strength to beat her if he woke and found her at Colm’s bed. “They’re nothing more then witless, bloodthirsty killers.” For the majority of them, that was true. “Thank you.” Bess leaned over and ever so softly pressed her lips to his. Her mouth was sweet. She offered him no more than a taste before moving away. Colm opened his eyes to watch her scurry across the room. A kiss. She kissed you in thanks. You’re a bastard. Don’t think more of the action. The candle went out and he listened as she climbed into the cot. “Colm?” “Yea?” “My way is safer.” “Don’t test me on this one, Bess.” A long sigh echoed within the walls of their shack. Colm’s lips curled upward. He’d always enjoyed that sound of frustration from her. What he wouldn’t give to hear her sigh in a different form of frustration.

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Tired of looking up at the tiny holes peppering the roof, he closed his eyes. He’d have to keep a close eye on Bess. She’d do anything for her ailing father’s care. Sometime later, when his cousins Finn and Rory slinked into their home, he was still awake.

***** “You know I can make me own way to work, Colm.” Even with her protest, Bess had no intention of taking her arm from the crook of his as they walked the city blocks toward Washington Square. Not only had she chosen to skip the omnibus and walk to the Rhinelander’s mansion to save money for her da’s medicine, she enjoyed this time with Colm. “I have promised your father I’d see to your safety, Bess. I am a man of my word if nothing else.” Bess sighed and leaned closer to the heat of his body. Her breast tingled as it pressed against the solid form of his arm and warmth spread through her body to the meeting of her thighs. Bess sighed again. What she felt toward Colm could never be unless her father changed his thoughts toward him. He was all the family she had left. She swallowed hard and dragged her teeth over her lip to stop its sudden tremble. She’d lost her home, her brothers…she didn’t know what she’d do if she lost him too. “He ate most of his porridge this morn. The medicine is helping, do you think?” “Could be, Bess,” was all Colm offered. They walked in silence a ways. The bleak surroundings and the hard impact of her footsteps on the slate sidewalks chilled and rattled her bones. What she wouldn’t give to sink her feet into soft fertile soil. Being out of this smothering city air would do her father good too. But she had tossed and turned all night thinking on Colm’s plans.

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“I’ve been thinking about this fighting you mentioned. I do miss sunlight that warms a body and rainfall that refreshes the air.” She hesitated before voicing her objections. “I know you do.” The muscles in his arm tensed beneath her hand. “But I don’t want any more bloodshed surrounding my life, Colm. I’ve lost too much to it. I won’t lose…” she bit back you too, “any more. So if you are going to do this fighting I won’t be party to it. You’ve done enough for us already.” Her chin lifted to its stubborn stance and she took a definitive step away from the shelter of his side. Chilled air rushed between them, made her shiver. Made her ache to move right back next to him. She held her ground. Colm slowed his gait and glanced down at her. “It wasn’t just for your dreams, Bess. I have my own to see to.” The determined fix of his jaw and flare of his nostrils made her heart race. “Your dreams?” was all she could voice, the blue of his eyes stealing her breath. “My dreams.” He looked ahead again. The first evidence of green appeared as Washington Square opened before them. It was a small respite in the city but you could already feel new buildings encroaching on it. The Rhinelander’s estate loomed on the other side. “What are your dreams, Colm?” He never said one word about wanting anything. He never said many words at all. “I’d rather not speak them aloud.” He stopped and faced her, “But when I achieve them you’ll be the first to know.” The tone in his voice made all curiosity, all protest lodge in her throat. Unruly black curls swept across his face. Dark blue eyes held her gaze. It was a look that thrilled and terrified her. It made heat flood her insides, made her want to press her lips to his, press her entire body to him. “Colm…” Her body leaned in just as a bell clanged, announcing the approach of the day’s first omnibus. On a quick intake of air she pulled away. 9

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Colm cleared his throat. “We’d better quicken our steps. We don’t want you to be late.” They made their way through the park and around to the servants’ entrance. At the door she stopped him. The thought of him in fisticuffs with some hooligan for money still made her stomach turn. “Please don’t go after prize money, I don’t want you getting hurt.” “I can fight and win, Bess. Have a little faith in me.” She wanted to have faith in him. She wanted to believe he could take anyone that went up against him. It would be so easy to rely on him for everything. But she couldn’t use faith alone to pay for her father’s medicine and she couldn’t take the sight of any more blood. She shook her head. “I mean it, Colm, I’ll not be taking any gains from you if you fight. Da and I will find another way.” “You’ll not be going in with the likes of O’Boyle, I’ll not hear of it.” His jaw clenched. Her hands went instinctively to her hips. “There ye go soundin’ like me—” The door flung open. Mrs. Murphy’s plump, red face appeared. “Oh thank the heavens you are here, Miss McGinty.” She wiped her sweaty brow. “We can use all the hands we can get.” “What’s happened, Mrs. Murphy?” The entire kitchen was bustling with much more activity than usual. “We’ll be havin’ a houseful soon, child. Seems our guest, the Lady Pembroke, has become bored with her nightly séances and wants a bit of sport. She has made a wager with her brother for a fist-fighting contest. They’ll each choose their own fighter. And she is putting some family jewel up as the prize. Mr. Hendricks saw it, said it was the grandest sapphire he’s ever seen. Mr. Rhinelander is supplying his warehouse for the event. Word is out and guests will be arriving. ‘Tis up to us to get the spare rooms ready.”

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Bess caught the interest in Colm’s eyes. He was an unseasoned fighter. Neither would choose him, would they? A feeling of panic skittered over her skin as Mrs. Murphy whisked her inside to start polishing silver.

***** Hours later, Colm shifted uncomfortably in the teeming crowd at O’Regan’s store. He didn’t know why he bothered with an occasional whiskey. The drink was more of a drain than an enjoyment. Made more so by those who gathered inside. O’Regan’s was one of the few places in the Points the Irish could find necessities without being scorned or chased out of the store. “I’d like to be in the man’s shoes about now.” Bairri elbowed him. “Have a look.” Colm glanced from his glass over to the counter. Leon Nugent had just offered up his daughter as payment for supplies. Myrna Nugent followed O’Regan into the backroom without a word. His fingers tightened around the glass. The man had sent his young sons out to the coal mines as “breaker boys” and had now taken to using his daughter. Damn shame what some men would stoop to. Whoring had become second nature to many of the women in the neighborhood. Some mothers and daughters entertained men in the same room. Bess was lucky to be cleaning houses for the wealthy. Colm tossed back the liquor and savored its burn. But it offered little solace. He needed to get out of the city. He needed clear air to breathe. He wanted a field to plow again. He wanted to take pride in watching a crop grow under his care. “Eh, Devaney don’t give a shit about what a pretty piece Myrna is…” Pol’s grin lacked warmth. “He’s got Bess spreading her white thighs for him every—” Colm’s fist plowed into the man’s mouth before Pol could finish the slur. Pol stumbled back, only to charge Colm. He dodged him and swung a fist, making contact

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with the side of the man’s head. The fight barely got started before it was over. Colm was dragged outside by two of O’Regan’s kinsmen and shoved up against the wall. O’Regan held the arm of an ax across his throat. “Ain’t no fighting in my place.” A cold green gaze bore into Colm’s. “Ya won’t get another warning.” Chest heaving, throat aching, Colm held his tongue. It wouldn’t help to tell the man to piss off. Instead he nodded. O’Regan stepped back to glare at the bystanders. One by one they moved away, leaving Colm alone with his cousin Finn. “Mon, you’ve got a mean punch.” His cousin smiled. Though he’d heard whispering about Bess, no one spoke aloud of her to him that way. No one. “But you know Pol didn’t mean anything.” “The man has a big mouth.” Colm pushed away from the building. “Well, we ain’t got much to do but sit around and talk.” Finn took a few steps as Colm made his way down the dirty street. “Leave off, Finn.” He quickened his pace. “I’ve got to go collect Bess.” He never let her walk home alone from the mansion. The streets were too violent. Too dangerous for a lone woman. Hell, a man was as likely to be knifed in the back for the coins in his pockets as a woman was to be raped. “You sparring tonight?” Finn called as Colm kept walking. “Have I missed a night yet?” He was lucky his cousin Rory had got a job inside a slaughterhouse. The carcasses made fine punching bags. Rory always let him inside to practice his form. It never did any good to dwell on the overcrowded, disease-infested slum they lived in. Instead, thoughts of Bess calmed his other ones as he weaved his way from one portion of the city to another.

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As he passed a bathhouse he imagined Bess soaking in one of the tubs. His cock swelled, only to press against the rough material of his pants. What he wouldn’t give to bathe Bess with his hands…her nipples…what tasty treasures… His breathing turned ragged and he brushed the fantasy away. Damn uncomfortable to walk around with a stiff cock tenting out your trousers. The change in the buildings and the scenery was startling. A carriage drew up alongside him a few streets from the mansion where Bess would be waiting. It slowed to a crawl. “You! Devaney!” The driver got his full attention. “Climb aboard. My mistress wishes a minute of your time.” Still he hesitated. He didn’t want to keep Bess waiting. Knowing the stubborn woman, she’d take off for home on her own. “My mistress doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” Disgruntled, the driver tossed down a coin. Colm caught it, only to blink at the glistening gold piece. He then climbed aboard and settled across from the fancily dressed woman inside. “Hello, I’m Lady Abbott.” Her speech was flawlessly English. Already, he wanted nothing to do with her. She extended her hand, but he ignored the offering. He also paid little heed to the wanton way her gaze lingered over his body. Beside whores, he’d never noticed a woman ogling his manhood before. “You may call me Laura.” His cock stirred to life at her continued perusal. “At least while we’re alone. “Of course.” His mouth twisted. “What do you want?” “Patience, my dear.” She tsked. “I like to get to know those I do business with.” The carriage started rolling. “You and I have a great deal in common…” That was laughable. They had nothing in common.

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“You remind me of someone…” He glowered. She sighed. “Does the name Lord Andrew Hugh Ryewich mean anything to you?” Lord Andrew Hugh Ryewich. The heat of anger flashed in Colm. It’d been a long while since he’d thought of the nobleman. His hands knotted, but he forced back his temper. The name was one he wasn’t ever going to forget. The English dog had raped his mother and left her with a child in her womb. Yea, he wasn’t ever going to forget the man who’d made him a bastard. “Lady, what the fuck do you want with me?” A shiver noticeably shook her while a flush spread up from her breasts to cover her face. “My, such vulgar language.” She moistened her lips. He reached for the door handle. With the slow plod of the horses he could easily jump out. “Wait.” She stopped him. “I have a bargain. One I think you’ll take.” Bargain had his attention. Sometimes bargains included pay. Money wasn’t something he could afford to turn down. Not seeing the harm in it, Colm leaned back. “Make it quick. I’ve somewhere to be.” “Have you heard Andrew is in the city?” His jaw clenched. Of course not. Though he’d hoped the man had long since been rotting in an inferno, he’d not ever bothered to try and see if the man lived. What he’d bargain for a moment alone with the man. “I thought not.” She smiled. “My sources say you’re the best Irish street fighter in the city. Lady Pembroke and I want you to fight for us…against Andrew’s fighter.” Blood rushed to beat in his ears. Ryewich was in the city. Better yet, the bastard was supporting the upcoming fight. God’s truth he wanted to beat the English dog in any way possible.

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“There’s a stunning sapphire up as a prize.” She offered him a smile. “You win, it’s yours. It’s worth a fortune. Imagine what all you could do with the gem.” He didn’t have to imagine. He’d have fought Ryewich’s man for free. But this way offered freedom. The fact was that simple. The gem could buy them freedom out west somewhere. “I’ll be your fighter but I want it in writing.” He didn’t trust an Englishman or woman. “I’ll have the document drawn up in the morning.” The carriage stopped. He leaned toward the door but stopped. “What’s in it for you?” She obviously didn’t need the prize. And she was offering it to him anyway. “Payback, dear.” She caressed his thigh as she leaned in to brush her lips to his ear. “Now don’t disappoint me.”

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Chapter Two Bess stared across the counter at the chemist. “But that’s double what you charged me last time.” “You want the medicine or not?” he snapped. He held one palm out for payment. The other held her father’s tonic. Heat traveled up her neck. She bit her lip to hold back speaking her mind and counted the few coins in her reticulum. It would take all the money she had left. “I don’t have all day.” Neither did she. With all the rush this morning, she had forgotten to tell Colm her da needed more medicine. She’d had to hurry here before the chemist closed. He was one of the few who would give Irish the time of day. She glanced at the clock behind the counter. Colm would be coming for her soon. He’d have her hide if he knew she’d walked here on her own. She clutched the coins in her hand. She would have nothing to give Colm and his cousins for room and board. While Colm was always reluctant to take her funds, his cousins were a different matter. Da needed the tonic. They would understand, wouldn’t they? “Are ye havin’ any trouble, Lisbet?” A thick brogue oozed into her ear. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she recognized the speaker. Her stomach churned as the odor of sweet pipe tobacco engulfed her. “Nothing I canna handle, Mr. O’Boyle. Thank you.” She stepped away from his overly familiar proximity and handed the chemist her coins. O’Boyle snatched the small bottle from the chemist. “Ah, tonic for your ailing father.” He shook his head. “How is he faring?” He passed her the bottle. His hand stroked hers as he did. 16

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“He seems to be improving, Mr. O’Boyle.” Bess pulled away from the contact, flashing him a warning with her eyes. She glanced at the clock again before lifting her basket and turning toward the door. O’Boyle blocked her path. “‘Tis good ta hear, Lisbet. But medicine can get rather costly.” He toyed with a wisp of hair that hung free of her white maid’s cap. She pushed his hand away. Her hand went to her hip as her face heated. “‘Tis Miss McGinty te ye, Mr. O’Boyle, and I ask ye to stop your unwanted attentions.” He laughed, which made her temper fume more. “‘Tis a fire that rages in ye. I’d love such passion in me bed.” He caught her hand as it rose to slap him and leaned in close. “I am wonderin’ if the rest of your flesh blushes as sweetly as your face. I’m a patient man, Lisbet. I never force a woman to me bed. ‘Tis always her choice.” He backed away and adjusted his hat. “I hope the tonic continues to help. Could the price raise again, Mr. Mason?” He arched a brow at the chemist. The man cleared his throat, a light sheen was on his forehead. “I suppose it could, Mr. O’Boyle. I run a respectable establishment, if you would take this outside.” “Of course, Good day te ye, sir.” O’Boyle held his arm toward the door to let her precede him. Bess felt ill. It would be her choice only because O’Boyle would see to it she had no other. “We are finished here.” She shoved past him and made her way to the door. O’Boyle kept stride with her. “Oh, not quite. I’m wonderin’ if ye had put any thought into me business proposition. I’ve been told that the mansion will soon be full of wealthy upper crusts, Lisbet.” He stopped her on the sidewalk. “So crowded no one would notice a maid lifting a few jewels. Wouldna have to worry about paying for your da’s medicine again.”

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Desperation clawed at her insides. She had no money left now. Her next pay wouldn’t cover the tonic, O’Boyle would see to that. “‘Tis not right.” Not what her life had been reduced to. Not what O’Boyle would force it to become. “They have so much, Lisbet, and all you get is their waste.” He peered in her basket at the bruised vegetables Mrs. Murphy had let her take for stew instead of tossing out. A large, shiny black coach pulled to a stop near them. O’Boyle glanced at his pocket watch. “Let me know soon, Lisbet.” He glanced at the waiting coach. “I have ta be goin’. I have ta meet with an English duke. Seems he’s involved in a bet and wants one of my men in a fight. He wants to make sure he wins.” “The fight at Mr. Rhinelander’s warehouse?” That explained how he knew about the guests coming, but she doubted there was much that went on he didn’t know about. “That’s the one. A huge sapphire be the prize. And the duke has some shipping contracts at stake as well. My man will be the victor of the fight. The sapphire and contracts will be the duke’s and he will make me a wealthy man for me efforts. I’ll see to it.” He brushed his hand over her cheek. Greed shone in his eyes, much as it had in those of the English as they took away their grain. “Like I said, I get what I want. Let me know soon. Good evenin’ te ye.” He tipped his hat and headed to the coach. Bess shuddered from the chill O’Boyle’s touch had left her with and glanced at the small brown bottle in her hand. Tucking it into the basket, she turned and quickly headed back to the park. What was she to do? Colm. Tears of frustration escaped. She felt so trapped. Stealing was wrong. But she had no money to offer Colm and his cousins. And her da— How could she not find a way to get him his medicine? He was all she had left. She followed the path that led through green grass and flowerbeds surrounding tall trees, past benches and fountains, toward the mansion. Her steps quickened. All she wanted right now was to see Colm. To have him yell at her for crossing the park and going to the chemist alone. To have him tell her everything was going to be fine. To feel

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his warmth and have him look at her the way that made her belly curl and breasts ache with delicious anticipation. She passed under the arch exiting the park and looked up at the mansion looming across from her. How grand it was compared to the little shack they lived in. A coach, similar to the one O’Boyle had climbed into, stopped nearby, and the door opened. She wiped away the last of her tears. She refused to cry in front of others. The breath stole from her lungs as Colm stepped from the coach, his clothes all disheveled. The coach continued on. The woman inside looked out as if she were the cat that ate the canary. Bess knew she had no claims on the man, that as long as her da refused him, Colm would make no advances. It hurt to see him leaving a woman’s company… especially– her hands went to her hips and she glared—an Englishwoman. “Colm Devaney!” “Bess? What are ye doing…” He watched the coach turn the corner then looked down at his clothes. Bess groaned in frustration and stormed back into the park. “Bess, wait, ‘tis not what it looks like,” he called as he rushed after her. “‘Tis none of my business!” she yelled, both at him and to remind herself. “Damn fucking English!” she heard him mutter. “Would you wait. ‘Tis not safe to walk the park alone.” He ran up behind her and pulled her to a stop. She shrugged his hand away. “Stay away from the likes of O’Boyle. Doncha lower yourself, Bess.” She mimicked one of his tirades. “Then you go and…” She pointed toward the street. “It was nothing like that.” He took her basket from her. “Didna look like nothing. Nothing gets your clothes all mussed?” She stormed off the path onto the grass. “I was in a fight with Pol at O’Regan’s.” He caught up with her. “Then the woman in the coach offered me a paying fight. I’m gonna be fighting for the sapphire.”

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“Colm, ye canna.” She turned and faced him for the first time. Fear gripped at her heart. “You’ve been cryin’?” He lifted her chin and studied her face. His jaw clenched. “What happened? Why were you coming from the park when I got here?” She tried to turn away. He wouldn’t let her. The tree behind her kept her from backing away. She lifted her chin. “I had to go to the chemist before he closed to get more tonic for da.” Her chin trembled. “Oh Colm, he raised the price. It took all me money to get it. Then O’Boyle said it would probably go up again—” “O’Boyle was there?” She nodded. “I have no money to give you and your cousins.” She didn’t care if she had to steal for the medicine. It was Colm—and what O’Boyle would do to win the fight —she worried about now. “It’s all right, there’s no need to make any promises to O’Boyle. We have plenty.” He pulled gold coins from his pocket. “Down payment for the fight.” “I canna be takin’ your blood money! O’Boyle’s man will be fightin’ ya. He intends ta make sure he wins. He wants it as much as he wants—” “You?” Anger radiated from him. She stepped back against the tree. “Is that what he told you in the shop?” “At least he’s not afraid to say it,” she snapped. “You want me to say it? Fine. I want to win this fight for more reasons than you know and Bess, damn it, I want you, too.” He was so close that the warmth of his breath brushed her face. Her heart raced. He looked at her as if he wanted to kiss her. Her body trembled. It was not from the fear he would kiss her. It was from the fear he wouldn’t. Her body ached with need—of him. “Colm, damn it, kiss—”

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His lips crushed hers, silencing her as he pulled her into his arms. She whimpered as the pressure softened, and his tongue ran over her lips, begging for entrance that she eagerly gave. Her tongue followed his lead and she tasted his mouth. Whiskey never tasted so good. He pressed her closer, his hands running over her back. She felt the hard length of his cock pressing into her belly. She slipped her hands around his back and pressed him closer to her. He groaned into her mouth. The place between her legs clenched and throbbed with want. Her breasts felt full and her nipples tingled. Her body wanted more than this. His hand slid along her waist and cupped the rounded side of her breast. His thumb moved between them and passed over her nipple. She inhaled the air from his lungs as sensations jolted from it to her belly. She rocked her hips forward, needed to press into him more. She didn’t want him to stop, even as she felt the first raindrops fall.

Finally, Colm had tasted Bess. Her lips couldn’t be sweeter. If only she’d stop squirming. “Colm, do ye not feel the rain?” He groaned. “I wanted to ignore the shower, but we both know better.” She was right. He didn’t want Bess to catch a chill. Colm scooped up the basket he’d allowed to slip to the ground earlier and passed it over. “Hold onto this.” Noting the direction of the wind and incoming rain, he narrowed his options. Then, before she had time to protest, he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder and ran for the building where they’d be least likely to be run off. The church. Thunder rumbled. “Colm Devaney, have ya lost your mind?” The amusement was clear in her voice as she clutched at his back.

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He had some time ago. He’d lost his head over a beautiful redhead the moment he’d laid eyes on her. The fire in her spirit had captivated him as much as her lush curves had. And always would. Keeping a hold on her thighs, he cut across the street and headed for a small overhang in hopes of getting Bess out of the brunt of the growing storm. He tucked her under the overhang and backed her against the building, using his body to shield more of her from the rain. Bess placed her basket on a dry patch. Her face lit up with laughter. “You’re going to be sopping—” With his lips, he cut her off. He didn’t care about the weather or getting wet to his skin. He wanted only to finish what she had started in the park. Fully aroused, he crowded her space. As before, she parted her lips to allow his tongue in to explore. Boldly she caressed his chest and shoulders in response and then slid under his jacket to his back. All the while her lips teased him relentlessly. Bess’ kiss had him hot, hard and on edge. He did his best not to thrust his cock against her body. She moaned into his greedy mouth. They shared long deep kisses until he had no breath. And little control. He cupped her breast, only to shudder when she didn’t slap him at the advance. Instead, she pressed into him. He held the mound in his palm and squeezed. How could a breast be both firm and soft to the touch? He wanted to see it bare. He wanted more to lave the pebbled nipple with his tongue. Bess urged him closer to the warmth of her body. “You’re sopping wet.” Rainwater splattered his back and legs. Rivulets ran over his shoulders down his chest. Colm eased back in hopes of keeping her drier, but she pulled him closer. With trembling fingers, he fondled the puckered nipple underneath the cloth. Her soft moan jolted straight to his balls.

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Hungry for more, he delved back into her delicious mouth. When he brought his other hand up to capture her other breast, she arched into his touch. Her cloak concealed his actions as much as his body hid her from view. He thrust his rigid cock against her and groaned. Colm’s balls drew up. He wanted nothing more than to strip her naked and fuck her where they stood. In the rain for God and all to see. He wanted to claim her as his. Instead, he struggled with material until his hand was under her skirt. She was panting by the time he parted her slick folds of her pussy with his fingers. “Colm…” Don’t stop me. He nibbled on her lips. Sucked on her tongue. And put his fingers where he wanted his cock to be. He briefly explored her opening. She gasped as he buried a finger into her tight passage. He used his hand to nudge her legs apart. Another finger joined the first to stretch her silken walls. His free hand squeezed and massaged a breast. His thumb raked over the erect nipple from time to time. Roughly, he pinched it to draw out a keen from Bess. Colm growled when Bess parted her thighs more, enabling him to pump fingers in and out of her grasping passage. Catching her every breath in his mouth, his knees grew shaky. The thumb pressed along her inner lips while his fingers stayed buried. She jerked at each pass of his fingers on her swollen outer folds. “You like that, Bess?” Again, he pressed into the swollen nub. At his attention, the nub grew tight. He wanted to drop to his knees and lift the skirt she wore so he could look his fill. He wanted to see her slick pussy and all its parts. Taste what he now touched. He swallowed, enjoying the feel of her wetness. Wondering what his cock would feel like coated in her juices.

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“Do you?” He rubbed and fucked her with his fingers. “I do!” she panted. “Lord, I do.” She rolled her hips forward, forcing his fingers deeper. Her wetness pooled in his palm. She stiffened with a cry drowned out by the rain. Her body arched against his own. He could do no more than hang on as tiny tremors clutched at his buried fingers. Pleasure. He’d given her pleasure. Much the same way he’d done to himself many times in the darkness of their home. Home. Tightness settled into his chest. He should’ve taken her home. Instead, Christ forgive him, he’d almost taken her against a building like some common whore. Doing his best to ignore his hard cock, he eased his hands away, allowing her dress and cloak to straighten out. Colm opened his eyes to stare down at Bess. Before he had a chance to speak, she pressed her fingertips over his lips. “Don’t you dare ruin this for me. For us.” She was right. What they’d shared had been good. “I swear…” Colm caught her hand in his to rub his thumb over her knuckles. “I’m going to get us out of this city.” He had big dreams for them. And he would find a way. The smile she graced him with was gentle, if unbelieving. The rain had eased some. Now they needed to make a run for home. “Let me get you home,” he said. Then he’d go to the warehouse to work on his punches. If he didn’t win, he’d die trying.

*****

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Bess pushed her stew around on her plate, still recalling Colm’s touch. His kiss on her lips, his hands on her breasts and his fingers deep within her. Her passage clenched and her nub throbbed. She couldn’t stop the moan. “Ye all right, Bess?” Her father’s voice, followed by a cough, shook her from her thoughts. Her face heated more. If her da knew what was going through her mind, what she had done… “Am fine, da.” “Ya sure?” He took a breath. “You’re looking a tad flushed and barely touchin’ yer food.” “Ye are.” Finn squinted at her, “an’ awful quiet, too.” He shoveled the last bit of his stew into his mouth. “Good eats. Thanks, Bess.” He stood and dropped his plate in the tin tub to wait to be cleaned. Rory and Colm had yet to come home. “I hope ye didn’t catch a chill, caught in that storm.” Her father studied her. The memory of her pleasure rippled through her. She had been far from chilled. “I’m fine, da. Just a bit tired.” She stood, avoiding his gaze. She scraped her plate and added it to the pile. “Ah, me girl, you deserve so much better. I hope ya ain’t workin’ t’hard…” A coughing fit took hold. “Here, da, take your tonic.” Bess grabbed his medicine and rushed over. With tearing eyes and shaking fingers, she tried not to spill the liquid as she poured it onto the spoon. He managed to swallow it on a breath. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him look so frail. His cough rattled his entire body, then finally eased. Bess knelt in front of him, holding his hands while he caught his breath. “Now, me girl, don’t be looking so worried. Give yer da a smile.”

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Bess blinked away the threatening tears and smiled, doing her best not to let her lips tremble. “That’s me girl. I’ll soon be right as rain, then I can pull me own weight.” Please God, let that be true. “If Colm wins this fight we’ll be out of here and sittin’ pretty, Seamus,” Finn chimed in. “Boys and their fightin’. Only problem with that is someone has to lose. You best be choosing your battles wisely.” Seamus’ rough hand cupped her face. Bess knew her da was thinking of her brothers. She was too. “Be it a way te get me girl away from this hell…” He smiled softly. “Now that is a battle worth waging.” He sighed. The cough, along with the medicine, always tired him. Bess and Finn helped him to his cot. Sleep claimed him. Soon his snores filled the shack. “I’ll get you some rainwater from the barrel,” Finn whispered. “Then, I’m heading over to fetch Rory. We’re heading to the pub. We’re a tad famous since Colm’s in the fight.” He grinned and winked. Bess rolled her eyes. “Men! Fools, the lot of them,” she muttered. Worry consumed her as she listened to her father’s snores, praying they wouldn’t stop. Waiting for each breath was exhausting, she couldn’t stay here. Colm. Where was he? She wanted to see him, needed his strength. Her mind raced. She scooped stew into the smaller crock and grabbed two plates and forks. Then she set about filling the basin of dirty dishes with the hot water on the stove. Finn refilled the pot she’d emptied and then grabbed his hat and jacket. Soon as the door closed, Bess grabbed her cloak and the meal. With a glance at her da, she snuck out.

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Finn stepped into the privy, and she stepped across the way to ask Mrs. Flanders to look in on her da. She could trust the older woman to keep a close watch on him. Then she waited in the shadows for Finn to emerge. When he did, Bess followed him. His destination would lead her to where she’d find Colm, too. She kept her distance but stayed close enough so he’d hear her call out if need be. On the edge of the makeshift shacks, before the warehouses began, Finn stopped. There were men and women laughing inside a shack. A woman stepped out on the stoop in just her undergarments. Finn traced his finger along the lacy edge of the top and the curve of her breasts. Bess gasped and turned away, only to catch sight of a man leaning against the side of the shack. A woman who rested on her knees before him was sucking on his cock. His face was so intense, his body taut. Bess stepped closer, fascinated. Strangely, the slurping sounds, mixed with the man’s panting breaths, made her nub tingle with desire. “Hey, lovey, looking to make some coin?” a man called from a group of men waiting outside. Bess gasped and took a step back. They started laughing. “Bess!” Finn swore and stormed over to her. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” “I…” Her face burned. “Jesus, woman, watch yer teeth,” the man in the alley growled. “Then concentrate so I can get ye off and be done.” She turned her face toward Bess. “You piss off before I charge ye te watch!” Then she took the man back into her mouth and continued to suck. Finn pulled her away. “What are you doing out here?”

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“I was bringin’ Rory and Colm supper.” She nodded to the crock. “Why didn’t you ask me to do it?” She shrugged. She couldn’t tell him, “Because I wanted to feel Colm’s arms around me, and the stew was an excuse.” “Never mind. Come on, it’s closer to go there than home.” Finn led her to the door on the loading dock. The bodies of cattle hung from hooks. She turned toward the sound of punches and grunts. Her heart slammed in her chest, then raced. Colm hammered his fists into the side of one of the hanging cattle. It was the first time she’d seen him without a shirt. The muscles on his back and in his arms flexed and moved beneath taut skin. A sheen of sweat coated him. He was glorious. She ached to run her hands over him. Her body heated. What would it be like to have his skin pressing against hers? “Good, Colm. Just keep your other hand up more. Protect that daft brain of yours,” Rory coached. “Go on.” Finn nudged her. She shouldn’t be looking, but how could she not? Finn cleared his throat. “Gentlemen, we have a guest!” He took the crock and plates from her. Colm stopped swinging and stilled the swaying meat. “Bess?” He dunked his hands in the bucket of water next to him. Quickly he washed his hands before he grabbed up his shirt. “Finn, what are you doing bringing her here?” She watched as the muscles of his abdomen clenched. His chest rippled while he yanked the shirt on and pulled up his suspenders. “I didn’t,” Finn defended himself. Her eyes traveled over Colm, taking in the sparse dark hair on his chest and the small path of it that traveled from his navel to disappear into his trousers. Her passage clenched. Her desire flared when she caught sight of the bulge within them.

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“You came here alone?” Colm’s voice rose. His tone gave her the strength to look away. She cleared her throat and put her hands on her hips. “I wasna alone. I wanted te bring ye supper so I followed him. He would’ve heard me if I had needed help.” “Oh, food. Thanks Bess. I’m starving.” Rory grabbed the crock and dishes from Finn. “I didn’t know she was there until she was propositioned at Dooley’s.” “What!” “You’re the one that stopped there. What were ye doin’?” she bit out at Finn. Her lips pursed as Colm buttoned his shirt, disrupting her view. Colm’s eyes flashed at Finn. “I was just looking. It’s all I can afford.” Colm shook his head. “She was just looking, too,” Finn said on a laugh. Rory choked on the stew he was devouring. Colm’s gaze returned back to her, his nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. She whacked Finn on the arm. She didn’t think her face could get any hotter. Colm closed his eyes and raked his hands through his hair. “You shouldn’t be out at night. Why not just give the crock to Finn?” “I asked her that, too.” If only Rory and Finn would go. She wanted to be alone with Colm. Her eyes stung, and she bit her lip to stop the pout. “I just… I needed… Da had a bad coughing fit and…” Colm blew out a breath. “It’s all right, Bess. You two go on to the pub. I’ll walk Bess home.” “Not ‘til you’ve eaten yer supper.” She raised her chin, trying to hide the relief and anticipation she felt. 29

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“Fine, let’s take it outside.” Colm moved past them and they followed. “‘Tis cleaner out here.” He sat on one of the crates. He patted an empty spot beside him. “We take breaks out here.” Settled she filled his plate and passed it over. “Come on.” Finn yanked the plate from Rory. “Hey!” “All the tables will be full.” Rory grabbed his coat that had been left outside. “Night guard comes on in an hour, Colm. Make sure you lock the door.” “I’ll see to it, Rory.” Colm took a bite, watching Bess. “Will we be seeing ya?” Finn asked from a few paces away. “I don’t need distractions.” Colm scooped up another spoonful. “Stay out of trouble.” Both men laughed as they left.

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Chapter Three Alone. They were alone. Bess’ heart fluttered. Bess sat on a crate next to Colm. She watched him eat, his lips and jaw moving, his throat working as he swallowed. Every motion reminded her of his kisses. “You’re worried about your da?” How could a voice soothe and excite at the same time? “I am. I keep hopin’ but the cough’s not leavin’ him.” She stood, needing to be closer. She looked down at his damp hair. Her fingers toyed with the dark curls. “I worry about you, too. Why do you need to be in this fight? Why does it matter so much to ye? You’ll be going up against O’Boyle.” He set down his plate. “I’ll be going up against my father.” Her hand stilled. “The duke O’Boyle spoke of is—” “He’s nothing to me.” He didn’t raise his head. “Just a bloody bastard who raped my mother.” His voice grew rougher. “Declared it part of his right to take anything Ireland had to offer. She died when I was ten. I’d never known her to have a good day.” “Oh, Colm…” “I need this, Bess. Winning this sapphire will be a kind of victory over him. He has taken so much from me. From us.” He looked up at her, his arms wrapped around her waist pulling her to stand between his legs. “It was his magistrate that took your grain.” “My brothers tried to fight for some victory over the English. They tried to keep our grain, it got them killed.” “Knowing they might die and they still fought. It was worth the chance.” His jaw set in a tight line.

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This was something he wouldn’t back away from. It wasn’t just the sapphire he was after. Though the fight terrified her, he should have his chance. Perhaps she could make a deal with O’Boyle for a fair fight. She had never made a deal with the devil before, but for Colm it was worth the risk, whatever price she had to pay. She glanced down at the bulge in his trousers, which had thickened. Her muscles tightened, wanting him inside her. She wet her lips. “Does it give a man pleasure?” Her fingers slid onto his shoulders sliding the suspenders off. His brows creased “What?” “What I saw at Dooley’s.” “What did you see?” “She sucked on his cock.” She ran her hands down his chest, passing over his nipples. His breath hitched. The bulge moved. “It does. It’s almost as good as being inside a woman.” His voice deepened. His pupils grew so large she could barely see the blue. She leaned down and they kissed, slow and deep. She felt each motion of his tongue as if it touched her most private places. Bess moved to her knees. His hands grasped her shoulders, stopping her. “I’ll not have you acting like a whore here at a slaughterhouse, Bess.” She ran her hands up his thighs and over the bulge to the top button. “Christ.” His eyes closed, and he forced a swallow. The sensation around her nub thickened. She could feel her nipples harden. “I’m not lookin’ for payment, Colm. I only want to give you pleasure, like you did for me. We’re all alone here.” She continued to unbutton him and worked to free his cock. She studied it for a moment. It was long and thick. Would it fit in her mouth, let alone any other place in her body? Her passage clenched tightly, letting her know it was willing to try.

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Dark hairs surrounded its base. Just visible, but still mostly hidden inside his trousers, was his sac. It looked full and darker-colored. Colm’s breathing was heavy. She wrapped her hand around the shaft, her fingers barely met. It was solid but soft. Its head was exposed from the foreskin and, like his sac, looked darker than the rest. Moisture beaded at its tip. She stuck her tongue out and tasted the drop. “Is it to your liking?” His voice hitched. “Salty.” She lapped around the head, traced the crease along one side and followed the vein that stuck up along the shaft. It pulsed in her hand. Colm moaned from deep in his throat. His hips flexed. She glanced up. He stared down at her, his nostrils flared and breathed through slightly parted lips. His face tensed like that of the man at Dooley’s. Her heart swelled, passion racing through her. It was a feeling she’d have only for Colm. He reached out and stroked her hair. “My Bess.” Her passage, which was still clenched, seemed to grow tighter. The ache built around her nub. She was tempted to reach under her skirts and rub herself. Watching his face, she slowly took him into her mouth until she met her hand holding him and she sucked. Sucked in time with the throbbing between her legs. His hands gripped the crate under him. His hips started to rock, his cock thrusting slightly in and out in time with her motions. A surge passed through his cock. Colm sucked in air and groaned. She stopped, moving her mouth just to the tip of him. “Did I hurt ye?” He sucked in more air. “My teeth didna get you? I know I should be careful of them.” “‘Tis fine,” he panted. “Then ye like it?” She kissed the tip, teased it with her tongue. His hips thrust and he surged again under her hand.

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“I like it, Bess.” He wet his lips. “I like it very much. You might want to let me finish, or you’ll be getting a mouthful.” “A mouthful?” She realized he meant his seed. “‘Tis fine, Colm, I want to give you pleasure. I want to taste you.” She wanted to feel pleasure take him, feel it pulse through him as it had through her. Before he could protest, she took him back into her mouth. With a ragged breath, Colm’s head dropped back. The cords of muscle in his neck looked tight. The ache she felt had built and traveled into her belly, curling tightly. She rolled her hips, wanting some relief but Colm’s mattered more now. His breath strained. His whole body tensed and his cock seemed to pull back. Colm moaned what she wasn’t sure was a curse or a prayer. His seed burst into her mouth, hot salty spurts as his cock pulsed in her hand. Bess swallowed quickly as she could, unsure if she enjoyed its taste—except that it came from his pleasure, and she had caused it. Colm’s fingers sifted through her hair and down under her arms, helping her stand. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him. “My Bess.” He nuzzled his head against her breasts. He was right, she was his.

***** “Morning, I’ll have breakfast on the table soon.” A flush spread up her face. Colm had to look away. She’d been flushed after she’d taken him into her mouth last night too. “Did you sleep well, Colm?” He made a rough sound. The night had been a long one. After their time alone, much of his night had been torture with her only across the room. “Not so well. How was your night?”

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Rory came through the open doorway. “Edie’s spread word that Frances lost the baby.” Bess drew in a sharp breath. Colm moved closer to offer her support. Many of the women nearby had lost babies. Or birthed dead ones. The Points were a rough place for women to bring life into. Another reason he wanted to get Bess out of this godforsaken city. “Sorry, Bess.” “Me, too.” Her sad gaze tore at him. “She was so excited about the babe. I’ll bring some dinner over for them later.” “Where’s your da?” Colm squeezed her shoulder. “Outside on a stool.” Rory tried to get to the pot but Bess shooed him away. Now a look of worry mingled with the sadness on her face. “Why do you want to speak with da?” “My business.” Risking being caught, Colm kissed her on the lips. “Morning.” She moaned and he stepped away. Outside, Bess’ father looked up. “Me girl’s got the table ready?” “Just about.” Colm spent a long moment looking at their bleak surroundings. Even in the early dawn hour, the place looked ugly. He missed the open land of Ireland something fierce. But there’d be no going back. Only forward to a future he willed to hold more than street grime and the stink of a sewer. Tension settled into his body. After yesterday, he had to speak to Bess’ father. Sweat beaded on his brow. How did someone ask for a man’s daughter’s hand in marriage when he’d already made his view clear? “Got something on your mind?” Seamus didn’t bother looking up. “You’re spoiling me morning.” A tic beat in Colm’s jaw. “I’m going to marry Bess.” That got the old man’s attention. He stood shakily. “As I’ve already told ya, Bess’ a good girl and won’t be marrying the likes of you.”

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Colm didn’t back down as he had in the past. Bess was his now. “And what about your daughter? Doesn’t she have a say?” Not that he’d asked for her opinion. But damn the English, he wanted to do right by Bess. Men sought favor from the father of their intended. “Me daughter’s a good girl and will do as she’s told.” Seamus’ face got blotchy. “Look around you. I want far more than this for me daughter…and ya damn half English bastard can’t give it to her.” Colm stiffened as in much anger as in regret. Would Bess go against her father? She adored the old fool. Seamus marched past him with more fire in his step than Colm had seen in the man in a while. When Colm turned toward the door, Finn stood there. “Meal’s ready.” He nodded before he tried to get around his cousin, who grasped him on the shoulder. “Don’t pay him no mind.” Finn shrugged a shoulder. “You could always plant a baby inside her, then she’d have—” His fist shot out. Colm had punched Finn in the mouth before he finished. His cousin stumbled backward against the wall. Fury roared in his ears. Damn the fucking English. He’d not trap Bess that way— he’d never father a bastard. “Colm.” Bess clutched at his arm. Rory helped his brother up. “That temper is another reason I’ll never give me approval.” The muscles strained in his shoulders. He’d never lay a hand on Bess. Not ever. “Da…” Bess’ fingers held fast to him. Ignoring her, the old man walked back inside. Finn wiped his mouth. “Suppose I had that coming.”

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Rory urged his brother through the doorway. “Bess has us a fine breakfast waiting.” “What happened?” Bess’s gaze followed his cousins then went back to him. Colm tried to calm for Bess’ sake. “I want to marry you, Bess.” There. He couldn’t be any plainer than that. “Oh, Colm.” Tears swam in her eyes. His fingers curled to make fists. Damn, he’d done this all wrong. Even worse, like her father said, Colm had nothing to offer her. Only a dream. “Your father…” “Let’s give it some time. Da’ll come around.” She nodded. “You’ll see.” Muscles bunched up along his back as the tension returned worse than before. His chest grew tight. The fact that she hadn’t given him an answer didn’t ease him. She hadn’t said yes and that was all that mattered. That old stubborn fool wouldn’t change his mind. Bess was mad as a squirrel to think otherwise. And he was mad to consider she’d ever defy her father. Bess was a good daughter. Loyal to a fault. And as everyone in the Points knew, he was a halfEnglish bastard. “Colm…” He pressed two fingertips to her lips. “I’ve got to go.” “What about your breakfast?” “Split my share.” Inside, he collected his hat. “Rory, see Bess gets to work.” For me. His cousin nodded though he looked at Bess. He hadn’t gotten through the door when Bess’s hand on his arm stopped him. “Are you going to Lady Abbott?” Fire blazed in her gaze. No need for him to respond. He’d already decided he’d fight. He had to. More now than ever. He’d prove Seamus wrong.

*****

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At the Abbott mansion, a doorman answered Colm’s knock and showed him where he’d be working out. Colm hadn’t been in a house as clean and roomy as the carriage house since Ireland. She had provided him with bags filled with sand to beat, along with hay-filled bags and wooden targets. Lastly, the setup came with a sparring partner named Chuck, who hated Colm on sight. Every chance the other man got, he let Colm have it. His fists never letting up. Colm wouldn’t be worth a damn if the ugly bastard had his way. At the midday meal break, Colm learned why the man held so much animosity toward him. Lady Abbott sauntered in like a cat in search of her prized cream bowl. Chuck barely got a glance before she reached Colm’s side. “Is everything to your satisfaction?” Her hand ran across one shoulder, along his neck to his other shoulder while she circled behind him. From beneath his lowered lids, Colm noted Chuck didn’t take his gaze from the Englishwoman. Colm wanted to spit. He didn’t intend to become the lady’s new fuck boy. Still, when her fingers raked his nipple, his cock responded to the touch. Purring like an alley cat in heat, she pressed into his body. “Is everything to your satisfaction?” “It is.” He caught her wrist before she explored lower. “I think you’d make a fine stud.” A swipe of her tongue left her lips moist. “I have a girl.” With the chance Bess cared for him, he’d not see Bess hurt in any way. Sure Bess wouldn’t want to share him, Colm urged her hand away. She stepped back and waved two servants in. The maid carried trays. Chuck took one and slunk into a corner. His stomach rumbled at the tantalizing smells. He should have waited to eat the breakfast Bess had prepared.

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Slow to take his own tray, he finally caved in to his growling belly. Only a fool turned away a meal. Lady Abbot lingered while they ate. “You know, I can offer you other perks to this arrangement.” Again she caressed his shoulder. Colm did his best to focus on the food. A warm breath brushed his ear. “Do you want to know something interesting about your father?” He straightened in agitation. He didn’t want to know a bloody thing about the bastard. “He liked to watch…” She ignored him then and turned to Chuck, who abandoned his meal. It took only a crook of her finger to have the other man drop his pants. After she pulled her skirt up, she bent over a stack of hay. Her arse was bared as she arched her hips. She spread her legs wide to expose her slick pussy. His cock twitched. Chuck plowed into her opening on a grunt. The lady moaned, while the man did the work. Colm picked up his spoon again to pretend to be unfazed. The fucking couple did affect him. His balls grew tight. What he wouldn’t give to have Bess in that position… Sweat poured off Chuck. Grunting and groaning, he slapped her arse with his weight. Her moans set Colm’s heart to racing. No doubt she enjoyed the plowing she received. Would Bess be as noisy? He wanted her to be. He hadn’t known a man could be so rough with a woman. Would his Bess be able to handle such a pounding? His cock pulsed with need. Christ, he wanted to find out how eager Bess would be for his cock. Abruptly, Chuck pulled away and shot his seed all over her bare arse.

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Now this interested Colm. As inexperienced as he was, he hadn’t known there was a way to prevent a baby from being planted. A surge of lust crawled through his blood, turning his cock rigid. He could take Bess and not risk a baby. Although she’d not responded to his marriage offer in the way he’d wanted, she’d been hot enough for his touch at the church. His felt his balls clench, remembering the feel of her mouth as she returned the favor in the warehouse. Maybe she’d allow him more liberties with her delectable body. Lady Abbott dropped her skirt and pushed her hair back from her face where it’d fallen forward. From her pocket, she withdrew a pouch and tossed it to Chuck. “See the perks,” she told Colm. She sauntered back outside. His mouth twisted in disgust. He was no whore. Let alone an English woman’s whore. For the rest of the day, he’d take his frustrations out on Chuck. Would seducing Bess be enough to win her over? Would the fight win be enough to convince her father he was more than some half-English bastard?

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Chapter Four I want to marry you, Bess. Colm’s voice echoed in Bess’ mind as she placed the linens on Lady Pembroke’s bed. His statement had hung there between them. Her heart was pulled between the life she dreamed of with Colm and her love for her father. Her da was too ill for her to go against him. She couldn’t give Colm the answer she wanted to. Not now. He had to know that. She might not be able to go against her father but she’d see to it she did her best to make sure Colm had a fair chance to win the fight. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she tried to moisten her dry mouth. She had to do this. She needed Colm to be safe. If that meant stealing something as a show of good faith…then Lady Pembroke should provide the something. After all, she and Lady Abbott had chosen Colm for this fight. She looked about the room. It held a large four-poster bed with a thick soft mattress, clean, fresh linens and beautifully embroidered blankets. A huge wardrobe full of fancy dresses sat in the corner and a dressing table with everything a woman could need to be soft and beautiful rested along the wall. She inhaled the fragrance of powder and perfume filling the room. It was as far from the constant filth and dank odor of the Points as anyone could get, no matter how hard she cleaned Colm’s place. She wondered if Lady Abbott smelled this good. If Colm would prefer a woman more like her. Concentrate, Bess! She took another deep breath and searched for a piece of jewelry to offer O’Boyle. Beneath the dressing table lay some satchels. She knelt and glanced toward the door as she slid one out. She lifted out the case inside. Her heart raced as she opened it. Its velvet-lined compartments were full of jewels. What could one woman do with so many? She selected a pair of garnet earrings.

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“I’m telling you, Catherine, it was a disappointment. He is so delicious to look at, and I wanted to get some satisfaction by bedding Andrew’s son. But he wanted nothing to do with it.” Bess’ heart leapt into her throat as she heard the women approaching. As quickly as she could, she grasped the earrings in her hand and closed everything up. “I told you, Laura, I don’t think it would faze Andrew a bit who you mounted.” “I know but it would have pleased me. There are a few more days until the fight.” “He showed no interest?” Bess slid the case under the table and scrambled to her feet while listening to every word they said. “I gave him plenty to look at and think over.” She laughed. “I thought I saw a bit of desire stirring in his pants. But he seemed more interested in his food, said he had a girl.” Lady Abbott sighed. “Who wants a girl when they can have a woman?” Anger rose through Bess’ panic. Attacking a noblewoman while stealing from another would not be a good idea. “Oh well, I suppose our best bet at getting our payback is this fight. He, at least, shows promise there.” “Yes, we’ll be hurting Andrew where he has always felt it the most…his bank accounts.” Their laughter interrupted as they entered. “What are you doing in my room?” Lady Pembroke’s eyes went from Bess to the dressing table. “Get Mrs. Rhinelander at once!” she barked at the housemaid carrying their purchases. “Aye, m’lady.” The girl put down the boxes and hurried from the room. Bess’ heart sank to her stomach. The table’s skirt was caught atop the satchel. Bess shook so much she could barely stay on her legs. “Hold out your hands,” Lady Pembroke ordered. Bess held open her hand, exposing the earrings she hid. Lady Pembroke snatched them from her. Bess could barely draw air into her lungs. She’d go to prison.

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Lady Abbott came up to her and looked her up and down, studied her face. “You’re the girl.” “What girl?” Lady Pembroke asked, staring just as intently. “The one Devaney escorts to and from the mansion everyday.” “You’re Devaney’s girl? Why are you stealing from me? Did he send you? Is he like his father and already squandered the allowance I gave him?” “He didn’t. Colm doesna know I am doing this.” Blood rushed from her face. She never wanted to get him in trouble. “Then, why?” Bess took as deep of a breath as she could manage. She couldn’t think of any lie that would get her out of this situation. Honesty was the only way. “I was wanting to bargain with Mr. O’Boyle.” “Bargain? Mr. O’Boyle?” Lady Pembroke crooked her fingers. “More explanation.” “Mr. O’Boyle is the man the duke hired to supply a fighter and make certain he won the fight.” Lady Pembroke blew stray hairs from her forehead and glanced at Lady Abbott. “Sounds like Andrew. And you thought you could steal enough jewels to sway your Mr. O’Boyle the other way?” “I wanted…I…” Bess had lost the sense in her logic. She smoothed the front of her apron. “Mr. O’Boyle has been wanting me to steal for him. I thought I could offer to do it in exchange for a fair fight.” Along with whatever other price he named. She could lose Colm forever, but he’d be safe. “What’s to make sure this Mr. O’Boyle will keep his word? Most men don’t,” Lady Abbott sneered. “A word with you?” Lady Pembroke and Lady Abbott moved to a corner of the room and talked quietly, then returned. “What is your name?” “Elizabeth McGinty, ma’am.”

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“Miss McGinty.” Lady Pembroke folded the earrings in an embroidered handkerchief and gave it to her. “You see if your Mr. O’Boyle will take your offer.” Bess blinked at the cloth in her hand. Mrs. Rhinelander entered. “My dear, what’s happened? Should I send for a constable?” “Oh no, darling! I am sorry if I startled you. It was a misunderstanding. No constable needed.” Lady Pembroke paused. “However, I was wondering if you might invite the Police Commissioner to dine with us tonight?” “Oh, certainly.” “Be a dear, seat him near Lady Abbott.” Lady Abbott’s mouth curved as if just offered a candy. “What a wonderful idea.” Mrs. Rhinelander clapped her hands together. “He was widowed two years ago. Too young for that. I’ll send an invitation right away.” The woman hustled from the room, eager to please her guests. Lady Pembroke returned her attention to Bess. “Tell Mr. O’Boyle no more will be coming his way until the fight is ended and you’re assured it has been fair. Then, hopefully, Mr. O’Boyle and my brother will get exactly what they deserve.” “If Mr. O’Boyle is like Andrew, he won’t like being had.” Lady Abbott wet her lips. “No, he won’t. That is where the commissioner comes in.” “Why are you helping me?” Bess understood their using Colm. She didn’t understand why they cared what happened to her or him after the fight. “My dear, for various reasons I want my brother to lose this bet. For one, he’ll have to sign over the rest of his lands to my husband and me to pay debts he has acquired. To do this I can’t have this Mr. O’Boyle aiding him before or after the fight. Now, help Lady Abbott to her coach with her parcels.”

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***** Bess stood outside their shack and poured out the dirty dishwater, watching it travel in rivulets before vanishing into the dirt. They’d finished dinner, the sun had faded from the sky and still she’d seen no sign of Colm. He needs to train, Bess. She knew that but she couldn’t help hearing Lady Abbott’s words. How she’d wanted to bed him, how she thought she’d seen interest. She also said he’d refused her, Bess reminded herself. But it did little good to stop the jealous worry churning inside her. She looked down at her hands, rough and red from scrubbing, and sighed. Footsteps approached and boots stopped before her. “Heard tell you’re wantin’ ta see me, Lisbet.” The sound of O’Boyle’s thick brogue made her supper curdle in her belly. Her hand moved to the handkerchief folded in her pocket, and she steeled her shoulders before lifting her face to him. “I have, Mr. O’Boyle.” She noticed two of O’Boyle’s men standing a way down the alley, eyeing anything that moved. They listened to the older men chiding each other in front of the Flanders’ shack a row away. Her father was entertaining himself with a game of cards. “I’ve been thinking of your business proposition.” She wet her lips and swallowed the sick feeling in her throat. ‘Tis for Colm. “Have ye now?” He walked up to stand way too close. “I was hopin’ you’d be willin’ te make a deal with me.” “Do tell.” She reached into her pocket, retrieved the hanky and opened it, showing him the earrings inside. “A token of good faith. I’ll steal as many jewels as I can while the guests are at Lady Abbott’s dinner before the fight and deliver them to you following the fight.” His eyes lit with greed, he reached for the white linen she held. She pulled it back. “Only if you promise it’ll be a fair fight.”

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His eyebrows shot up, then he broke into laughter. “Only you’d suggest such a brazen thing. ‘Tis what draws me to ye, I believe.” He leaned forward, tucking strands of hair behind her ear with his finger, then staying to trace its ridges. His touch sent a chill through her. “‘Twill take more than the promise of jewels for me to allow the likes of Devaney a fair chance, Lisbet,” he whispered in her ear. The chill mixing with the warmth of his breath and the proximity of his body made her shudder. She clenched her fists with the contents of one still secure and placed both on her hips, which was a mistake. Her breasts jutted out, pressing against his chest. She held her ground, choosing to ignore the effect. “What more do ye want, Mr. O’Boyle?” She’d promise anything to keep Colm from O’Boyle’s dirty tactics. She wouldn’t see anyone else she loved die. “You, Lisbet. You in my bed for as long as I want ye there.” She was surprised neither by his words nor by the sick feeling that followed. Of course jewels wouldn’t be enough. “If ye need me to say yes to that, then I will.” “Of your own free will?” “My own free will. Nothing bad is to happen to Colm, and he’s not to know about this.” He’d never let it happen if he did. Lady Pembroke had best be true to her word so none of this would have to happen. Her breath came with difficulty. She hated the smell of his tobacco. He reached down and took the earrings from her fist and tucked them into his jacket pocket. “A token of good faith. And another.” He glanced over her head, then clasped her face with his hands and forced his lips to hers. He thrust his tongue into her mouth when she gasped in surprise. With nails digging in, she grasped his wrists to get him away. His hands held her still, his tongue lashed about tasting her, making her taste him, taking her breath. Her supper rose in her throat as she tried to push him away. “O’Boyle! Take your hands off her!” Colm’s voice broke the noise roaring in her ears. 46

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One second, O’Boyle embraced her, the next, he lay beneath Colm on the ground. Colm’s fist connected with his jaw repeatedly. “Colm, no!” O’Boyle’s men rushed forward. Rory and Finn struggled to pull Colm off O’Boyle. “Easy, Colm. He’s baiting you. Save it for the fight.” They managed to pull him away and hold him back. O’Boyle stood and held up his hand, stopping his men. With a cocky grin on his face, he wiped a smear of blood from his lip with the back of his hand. “Lisbet.” He nodded, brushing off his hat before placing it back on his head. “Until the fight. Gentlemen.” And off he walked, her deal with the devil made. Colm shook off his cousins and pulled her to face him. “Are ye all right?” Bess nodded. “I am, Colm. I’m fine.” May he not feel her body trembling. Or be able to tell how relieved she was he’d finally come home. His nostrils flared and he struggled to catch his breath as much as she did. The tic in his clenched jaw gave away that he was none to pleased with what he had seen. “What the bloody hell was that all about, Bess? What did you give him?” She shook her arms free and raised her chin. “I merely delivered a message and token from Lady Pembroke to let him know she hoped it’d be a fair contest. I certainly wasn’t expecting the kiss.” It wasn’t a total lie. “Why’d she ask you to deliver it?” “Why’d they ask you to be their fighter?” she snapped. She could still taste O’Boyle’s tobacco in her mouth. Her stomach churning with sickness, she swallowed. “Rory, might I borrow yer flask?” Rory blinked at her. “How’d you…” “Please.” She held out her hand. He dug into his jacket to pull out a small metal flask. She pulled it open and took a long sip, swishing the whiskey around her mouth before swallowing. She allowed herself to enjoy the warmth that spread through her. If

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only it cleansed her of O’Boyle’s touch. She closed the flask and handed it back to him. “Thank you.” The taste had left but the queasy feeling still turned her belly. “I need to go for a walk. Colm, I’m sure you’re tired from all your training at Lady Abbott’s today. Finn or Rory, will ye accompany me?” Both looked to Colm. “I can walk with you.” Colm racked a hand through his hair, before urging her into step at his side. “If ye’d like.” She wasn’t sure why she felt angry toward him. He’d done nothing wrong. They walked along in silence a ways. Her arm slipped into the crook of his, instinctively finding shelter in his warmth. She was with Colm. Her favorite place to be. It didn’t matter what time of day or where they were, just as long as she was with him. “I saw Lady Abbott today.” “Did you?” “I did, she visited Lady Pembroke. She’s very pretty and smells like flowers.” “I suppose.” If only he’d denied it, but he’d been honest. “She said she gave ye things to look at and think about. Things that might interest ye.” “English bitch. She told you that?” He stopped walking. She shook her head. “Servants are invisible to the wealthy. Come on.” She squeezed his arm. “The moon always looks pretty over the water.” He grunted, but allowed them to move along. Soon they arrived at the piers. Freighters docked near warehouses. Boxcars on railroad tracks waited to be unloaded, their freight to be shipped down the East River and across the ocean. More cargo waited to be loaded on trains and shipped to the cities west or south of here. Always away from here. The wind whipped the mist and scent of sea air into their faces.

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Bess closed her eyes and let the night embrace her. She opened them to find the deepest of blue eyes watching her as if nothing existed but her. It made her heart skip, her body ache for his lips to meet hers again. Did he want her more than he wanted a soft beautiful lady? “Did you, Colm? Did you see anything that interested you?” “Bess McGinty, are ye jealous?” A playful smile lit his heated gaze. “Need I be, Colm Devaney?” “Never.” He brushed his lips to hers. Her body immediately heated, remembering the touches they had shared. “I did see something that interested me. But it had nothing to do with Lady Abbott and everything to do with you…with being with you.” He wrapped his arms around her, under her cloak, and held her to him. His shaft had hardened and he pressed its long length against her belly. A moan escaped her throat. Need skittered through her. She pressed her breasts against him and rolled her hips to cradle his cock tighter between them. Her passage clenched, then felt as if it opened, begging, weeping… It was where she wanted to hold him. “I meant what I said about making you my wife.” “I know.” “I’d be a good husband to you.” “I know that, too.” “But your da—” “My da needs me, Colm. I am all he has left. I canna go against him, not now.” “He’ll never accept me.” “‘Tis not true. He hates the English, not you. ‘Tis just that he has lost everything to them—his sons, his land, his pride. There was no way for him to fight back. The wounds are still too new to see past.” She nuzzled her lips against the pulse in his throat. “Keeping me from you is his small victory. Give him time to heal. After you make plans for your future, and if they still include me, then ask again.” If Lady

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Pembroke’s plan worked, and he still wanted her after the fight, then she’d let nothing keep them apart. She stood on tiptoe, brushed her lips to his, coaxing him back to here and now. He returned the kiss. She loved the warmth, the taste of his mouth. The way he took control but allowed her the choice to follow. The way the touch of his lips and the stroke of his tongue could be felt everywhere on her body. She wanted that. She wanted to have his lips and tongue, his hands touching every part of her. She wanted to follow his lead and touch him, too. She slid her hand from around his waist and rubbed it over his shaft, enjoying the feel of it. “I want to be alone with you, Colm. To escape everything but the pleasures we share, to be with you. What did you see today that interested you this much?” “You’re sure, Bess?” Colm needed her to be sure. What she was asking…there’d be no taking it back. “I am.” Alone. She wanted to be alone with him. Already his head hummed as the possibility of pleasure built. Need tensed his muscles. The hard length she stroked pulsed under the heat of her hand. Alone. He wanted this moment with her, too. Most likely wanted her far more than she’d ever want him. How many nights had he lain awake spinning dreams of being alone with her? His head buzzed with desire to show her what she meant to him. Words wouldn’t come as his balls drew up tight. In a glance, he dismissed a boxcar. Even if they located an empty one, he wanted something more for this night with Bess. A hotel wouldn’t welcome their kind.

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Colm caressed her shoulders for a measure of control. His manhood strained under his trousers. Her hand continued to rub his rigid length. His body tense, he caught her teasing fingers and placed a kiss on her palm. “O’Regan might have a room.” The store owner sometimes offered Irish who had funds to spare a place until they moved on. O’Regan had the only clean, safe place he could think of. A room where they could have privacy. It’d cost him, but it would be well worth the price. She squeezed his fingers. “You sure?” He swallowed and held his breath. “I am.” Her alim fingers clutched at his. His rough thumb caressed her skin. Releasing the breath, he turned away to lead them to O’Regan’s. The walk was a quiet one, save for the pounding of his heart. Lust ran hot in his blood. His cock pressed heavily against his trousers. Each step stirred the desire to be buried inside Bess. The store had closed by the time they arrived. He didn’t care. He hammered on the door. One of O’Regan’s kinsmen opened and closed the door in their faces before the shopkeeper appeared. “‘Tis late, Devaney.” “It is,” Colm admitted, trying to calm his ragged breath. “Store’s closed.” “It’s not canned goods I want.” He squeezed Bess’s hand, keeping her close to his side. “We want one of your rooms.” “Do you now?” O’Regan snorted. “I do, and I don’t want it spread to every ear in the Points where we stayed.” O’Regan’s face tightened. The Irishman had never been one to talk but a few of his kinsmen had mouths as yappy as some women. “I can pay.” Yes, he could pay. As hot as he was, he didn’t care how much the fee cut into his traveling money. O’Boyle wouldn’t have what was his. This night would prove how much she meant to him. Damn Seamus for leaving them this option.

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“I hear you think you’re ready to take the upcoming fight?” Colm nodded. “I am. I’m going to win.” His future with Bess depended on his success. Again O’Regan snorted and pulled the door wide to wave them in. “Go a round with a few of my boys, and you can have the room until the fight.” O’Regan held Colm’s gaze, not sparing Bess a look. “No cost.” O’Regan waved to two of the men hanging back. They left without a word. “Done.” Colm moved to shake the man’s hand, but Bess stopped him. “Colm…” Bess clasped his arm. She kept her voice low, for his ears only. “I don’t like this.” “This is a good bargain.” Although her eyes pleaded with him, he faced O’Regan. “I’m ready when your boys are.” He stuck his hand out. O’Regan shook it and stepped back. “Let’s go out back.” They followed the older man through the store and outside to the small triangular enclosure in the back. He brushed his mouth over Bess’ ear. “Just stay quiet and the room is ours. Two men stood in corners. Colm took the remaining one, where he shrugged off his coat. Sizing the Irishmen up, he removed his shirt. Too many times in the past, Finn and Rory had tried to take him down. His conditioning would see him through this. His training had taught him to take a beating and keep fighting. His determination would gain him this win and the room. O’Regan waved the men forward. Concentrating, Colm moved as well. Ignoring the odds, he waited for one of them to act first. Smiling, the stockier of the two swung first. Colm’s fist landed on the man’s throat. Gurgling, the man dropped as Colm blocked the second man’s punch. Colm brought his knee up into the man’s stomach only seconds after he boxed the man’s ears.

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As the second man dropped to the ground a club slammed into Colm’s back. He grunted, then grunted again as the club smashed into his left shoulder. Dropping to a knee, Colm pulled the third man’s leg out from under him. Sneaky bastard. He should’ve seen this attack coming. O’Regan wouldn’t let him off easy. The club landed again but not with the force it had before as the man fell to the ground. Colm scrambled to pin the man down as he pounded his head. Over and over, he punched at his opponent’s face and ears until the man gasped from behind his blocking forearms. “Enough.” O’Regan pulled on one of Colm’s shoulders. Chest heaving, Colm climbed off the prone man. “The room’s yours until the fight.” O’Regan pulled a pouch from his pocket and tossed it at the feet of the first man. “Bet it all on Devaney.” The storekeeper slapped Colm on the shoulder. “There’ll be only one man walking away from that fight, and it just might be you.”

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Chapter Five The room O’Regan’s woman showed them appeared clean and neat. He hung back a little, watching as Bess lit a second lamp. After the woman set a pitcher and bowl of water on a dresser, she left them. “It’s nice.” Bess’ hand ran over the bedcover. He nodded, dropping his shirt and coat on a chair in the corner. “The place looks clean, too.” “The bastard hit you with a club.” Her mouth trembled, causing him to move to her side. “Shh.” He’d had worse beatings before. Being battered barely registered anymore. “I’m fine.” “He could’ve killed you.” Death hadn’t crossed his mind. He tried not to think at all when fighting. “It’s over, Bess.” He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her into his lap. “I’ve been hit harder.” Wrapping his arms around her, he rested his face into the crook of her neck and inhaled. “I’ve been fighting to survive for years. And training to fight.” Bess’ hands gingerly caressed his back and shoulders. “I wanted to kill him.” Her arms tightened around him. “He picked up that stick to come after you and I wanted to kill him.” Colm chuckled, nuzzling the skin along her neck and cheek and then below her ear. His semi-hard cock swelled thickly in his trousers. It pressed against the confining material. He pulled her back to him so she’d feel his growing desire. “‘Tis not a laughing matter, Colm Devaney.” Her fingers tangled in his hair. “I was angry.”

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“I can imagine your temper flaring.” He tugged her earlobe between his lips. “One more fight and all our dreams will come true. This sapphire is our key.” Her steady fingertips rubbed at his skull until he groaned. “Christ, that feels good.” It was her turn to laugh, but she continued to massage his head. His mouth traveled to hers. But she wasn’t having any of it. He groaned as she pulled away when he tried to invade her mouth. His patience was warring with his desire. “Stay there.” She moved away to the dresser, where she poured water into the bowl. After she removed her shoes and stockings, she picked up the washcloth and dropped it in the water. Not taking his eyes off her, he leaned down and removed his boots and stockings. As he straightened, Colm gulped air as Bess began to unbutton her blouse. Ever so slowly, she tortured him with glimpses of skin. She slipped the faded material from her shoulders. The undergarment she wore soon followed suit. Large, lush breasts jutted out from her body. Her nipples puckered up under his hungry gaze. Perfectly formed. They’d fit his palms perfectly. He knotted his fists to still their trembling. How many nights had he lain on his side of the room while she’d washed behind the curtain, then stroked his cock furiously when the candle was out? “Bess.” He wouldn’t be able to wait anymore. He had to have her now. Had to taste her. Had to fill her. She rung the rag out and walked over to where he sat. With a slow hand, she wiped off his chest and shoulders, carefully passing over the red marks forming from the club. All he could focus on was his cock. His hard, stiff cock. Colm groaned as she bent and kissed each welt. Then, leaning back, she tossed the rag toward the bowl behind her. Salivating, he reached for her breasts, which now dangled within his reach.

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They were soft and firm at the same touch. He squeezed and rubbed them. Molded the globes in his hands. The hardened nipples pressed against the middle of his palms. Moaning, she clutched at his shoulders. Her fingers dug into his muscles. Her cries grew louder when he sucked a puckered bud into his mouth. He continued to mold her breasts while teasing her nipples. His tongue laved her relentlessly. He sucked, circled and nibbled at the swollen tips. This was Bess—he was touching her. It was better than any fantasy of her he’d ever had. Bess’s body quaked in offering. “Colm?” “Hmm?” He looked up after kissing her breast. “My body aches…” Her heart pounded under his exploring lips. “It feels so good what you’re doin’ but…” “Your body aches?” “It does, like it’s needin’ more.” He growled deep in his chest. His hands slid to her waist. He unfastened the skirt she wore, then pushed it down over her hips. The garments she wore under it came off in a heap. Colm eased back to take in all of her lush body. Small waist. Wide hips. Curvy thighs. He swallowed hard as his eyes went to the thatch of dark red hair at the joining of her legs and back up to her breasts. “You’re perfect, Bess.” He pulled her into his lap, bringing her down to press her against his confined manhood. It pulsed hotly at the feel of her rubbing along its length. “Hold on to me.” At the feel of her arms tightening around his shoulders, he rolled them over and scooted them up on the bed. He kissed her then. At the swipe of his tongue, she opened her mouth for him willingly. There was no hesitation in the embrace of her lips. The kiss turned so deep that it stole his breath.

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Bess’ hands drove him to distraction on every pass over his back, his shoulders. Her fingers tugged at his hair. Her breasts scorched his chest. Heaven wouldn’t be this good. It couldn’t be. Everything he wanted lay willingly underneath him. Gulping for air, he broke the teasing of their tongues. His trousers. He had to get the bloody things off. With a shaking hand, he undid them and attempted to shove them down. A groan rumbled up as the material got hung up on his rigid cock. His fingers shook as he tried to work them off. “I’ll help.” Bess’ long lashes lowered while she eased his trousers down over his cock. Propping on one elbow, he finally got them out of the way and kicked them off. Now naked, he positioned himself back over her prone body. Keeping much of his weight off her, he settled between her parted thighs. He grasped one leg and slid his hand along it, massaging the skin along her thigh. She was so soft to his touch. Her womanhood burned against his cock. She was slick as he slid his hard length over her slit. Bess gasped, clutching at his shoulders. Sweat coated his chest. Lust curled deep in his loins. He released her leg to have her slip it around his hip. With his free hand, he fondled her breast. Tweaked a puckered nipple. His breathing turned ragged. Staring into her darkened eyes, he rubbed his cock along her wet folds, making sure it hit the swollen nub hidden there. Over and over he rubbed along her pleasure spot. Colm clenched his teeth together as his balls tingled in warning. Christ, he wasn’t even inside her, and he had trouble controlling the need for release.

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“Colm…” She whimpered, arched into his heavier weight. His hard cock slid over the wet folds of her open pussy. He dipped his head to claim her lips in a kiss. Shaking, he pulled his hips back, lined up the crown of his cock and plunged forward into her silken walls. She cried out into his mouth. He swallowed her cries and shuddered. Bess’ virgin passage clenched around his buried cock. He’d claimed her. Made her his. He couldn’t take the pleasure. Gulping air, he pulled his head up, arched his hips forward. Not yet! Not yet. Release now would be too soon. Suspended on the edge, he waited for her body to relax. At the first hint of her adjusting to his size, he rolled his hips around. He stayed balls-deep, stretching her as best he could. Colm moaned. Not yet. Christ, not yet. “You’re inside me, Colm.” Her amber eyes glistened up at him. “I am, Bess.” He grunted, emotion surging through him. He brushed his lips over hers. Slowly, he began with a thrust of his hips. His arse clenched with every forward movement. The arm he braced himself on trembled. “We’re a good fit.” He swallowed before kissing her lips again. “You feel good.” She nodded, nibbling at his lips. Colm pulled out. “Roll over for me.” Bess hesitated, but moved at his encouragement. “Get on your hands and knees.” His cock pulsed as he imagined her breasts hanging down as he worked her hard. 58

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With her lip caught between her teeth, she looked back over her shoulder. “Your hair. Let it loose.” Moving behind her, he grabbed her hips. With her legs wide, he slipped in between them to shove his cock where it belonged. He closed his eyes. Her wet heat threatened to undo him. “Your hair.” By lifting her arms, she pushed back until she nearly sat impaled on his rigid length. Colm nuzzled her neck, marking the skin with his teeth here and there as he went. Moaning, she let her hair down. It cascaded down past her shoulders in a riot of curls. “Lean forward for me now.” He marked her shoulder with his mouth and urged her to brace herself on her hands once more. “I need you bad, Bess.” Release. He needed the pure pleasure she promised. He thrust his cock deep and settled in. The sounds she made threatened his sanity. Faster he pumped his hips back and forth. His hand trembled when he brought it around to her clit. He worked her swollen nub until she bucked back onto his buried staff. “Oh, God, Colm,” she moaned. He grunted, playing more with her wet clit. She gasped and her back arched on a thrust of her arse. “Christ, Bess.” Her silken walls sucked at his hard cock. Tiny tremors clenched his length until he growled. His balls tightened. Not yet. Not yet. Then he gave in, fucking her in a mad pace. Grunting and groaning as her body took every inch he plunged in. Moisture coated his cock with each deep thrust he took into her clasping hole. On deep lunges he buried himself, only to pull out to the crown.

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Desire numbed his mind as need built. He pressed forward hard. His thrusts turned wild. He kept them short and close to her body as he pounded his cock into her wet pussy. Teeth clenched to fight off release, he watched as the sides of her dangling breasts jiggled with every thrust of their bodies. His cock grew heavier still. Christ, he liked her breasts. And her arse. And her pussy. He held on tightly so he might work harder. Unable to take the arousing sight but also unable to look away, he focused on the feel of her around him. Bess panted, her arms giving out. Her body tensed. Her silken walls clutched madly at his driving shaft. His seed began to rush forward in release. “Bess!” He jerked back to grab his cock, spraying her arse and back with his seed. A long minute passed before he could breathe normally. Shakily, he got the wet washcloth. Bess gasped and jumped slightly as the cloth passed over sensitive skin, while he wiped the mess he’d made. Once back at the bowl, he cleaned his semi-soft manhood. “You all right?” She climbed under the bed cover and settled against the pillow. “Will be better as soon as you come back to the bed.” She folded down the cover and smoothed her hand over the mattress. She took his breath away—red curls draped over her white shoulders, the peaks of her breasts visible through the cascading locks. Christ, she was beautiful. And she was his. Weak-kneed, he joined her to wrap his arms around her. She was warm and soft in his embrace. He nuzzled her temple. “Bess?” “Hmm?”

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He’d shown her how much he wanted her with his body, but he needed her to hear it. “If O’Boyle touches you again, I swear I’ll kill him.” His arms tightened around her. He might sneak around her father’s back, but he wouldn’t share her with O’Boyle.

***** Bess stirred from her sleep. Moaned as a calloused hand kneaded her breast and fingers teased her nipple in the darkness. “Colm,” she said sleepily, reveling in his touch, in his warmth against her back. “It’s nice to hear my name from your lips first thing in the in the morning.” He pinched her nipple, sending a jolt straight to her nub. She gasped. Her hips rolled back to find a stiff cock. “‘Tis morn already?” She scooted her back closer to him, enjoying the hard length of his cock against her arse and the sensations his fingers stirred. “It is, but it’s early.” He nuzzled the top of her head. “We don’t have to leave for another couple of hours.” O’Regan had kept his word and the room had been theirs. He also made sure no one was aware of their occupancy. He said it was in his vested interest to make sure Colm had no additional worries except the fight. For the past few nights, they’d left after her father was asleep and spent the nights in the room, exploring each other and making love. They’d leave in time for her to be there before her da woke. She hated sneaking around but she couldn’t hurt her da. He wasn’t ready to hear what was in her heart. After tonight, it might not matter anyway. She might lose them both or she might win the future she dreamed. Tonight… “The fight, ‘tis tonight.” “That it is.” His hand slipped between her breasts. “Promise me, Colm, no matter what, you won’t give up on leaving, and you’ll see to it that Da is cared for.”

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“Shh, your heart is racing.” He nuzzled her hair aside and started kissing her neck. “I’m going to win, Bess. We’ll get out of here. I’d never leave Seamus behind.” He trailed kisses down her spine. “Your word, Colm?” She closed her eyes. Would Lady Pembroke and Lady Abbott keep their word? And what if Colm lost and they didn’t get their revenge against his father—would they just leave her and Colm to face the consequences she’d put into action with O’Boyle? He stopped. “Bess?” “Your word!” She couldn’t look at him. He’d see the panic in her eyes. Make her tell him what was wrong. He needed to focus on the fight. She’d think of a way to get him to let her go if things went wrong, but she had to make sure her da would be okay in any outcome. “No matter what.” “No matter what. You have my word.” His fingers caressed her skin. “What’s this about?” “I’m just scared.” “It’s going to be fine.” He nipped her shoulder. She hoped so. Bess drew in a breath. Curled up beneath the covers. He pressed his hard cock against her back and placed kisses from her shoulders to her spine. “Come now. Let’s enjoy the time here before we must go.” She released the breath and allowed the distraction, to lose herself in him. As he kissed a trail down her back, he moved down the bed, the covers leaving with him. Each kiss sent a charge of desire through her. He nipped the flesh of her arse, then soothed the spot with his tongue. She gasped, wriggling. She watched him over her shoulder. He knelt at the bottom of the bed, near her bent legs. His eyes glassed over with desire. He placed a hand beneath her knee and lifted, spreading her legs wide. He

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looked fierce, his jaw tight, nostrils flared. His hungry eyes traveled over her, then rested on her womanhood. “Colm, what are ye doin’?” She squirmed a little. Her outer lips and her nub twitched under the intensity of his stare. She could feel the flesh moisten. She wanted him inside her, to hold him to her forever. Emotions rushed through her and more juices coated the folds between her legs. Her nub pulsed in time with her heart, muscles deep within her tightened. He held her open. “Just looking at you… Have you any idea how beautiful you are?” An ache began in her belly. A feeling of frustration nipped at her, and her hips rolled up, her legs parted more in invitation. “Do ye plan t’ only look?” “It’s not all I plan to do.” He kissed the inside of her knee. Her arse tightened as his lips teased the sensitive flesh on the inside of her thigh. He spoke against her skin, “I plan to kiss you, tease you with my tongue and taste your pleasure.” She whimpered, her breath quivering. Her outer lips clenched and her nub jerked. He smiled. “Do ye like the sound of that?” “I do, Colm.” Her voice was barely audible. Her throat had tightened with the rest of her in anticipation. Her body knew well how wonderful his touch could make her feel. His arms wrapped around her thighs, his hands splayed on her belly. His thumbs teased her pulsing nub as he had her nipples. She gasped. Her back arched, desire searing through her. His fingers continued an arousing massage. He’d bring her to the edge then stop. A moan escaped her. The ragged pace of his hot breath matched hers, blew against sensitive folds as his mouth lowered and his tongue joined his fingers. He took his time lapping and tasting. He was going to drive her insane. “Colm…” She sighed in the frustration he had deliberately built.

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He growled against her. His assault became more deliberate. Soft keens came from deep in her throat. Her hands fisted the bed sheet beneath her. Her hips rocked in time with the flicking of his tongue, rolled with the motion of his fingers. She placed her trembling calf on his back, her thigh pressed against his shoulder. Her other leg that had been resting on the bed lifted, pressing against his ribs as her body tensed and reached for the pleasure he was bringing her. “Oh God, Colm.” Her release hit her. Waves of pleasure coursed through her body. He pulled his tongue away and drove it deep within her core. It worked over the undulating muscles as his fingers milked and rubbed her, driving her right away into another release. She cried out as her body arched and bucked. After she’d come back to her sense, she felt his gaze on her and met his eyes with hers. Colm knelt back on his feet and stared at her. His chest rose and fell in deep quick breaths, covered in a sheen of sweat. His shaft was hard and jutted from him, asking for its own release. “You amaze me.” He was too far away. Bess’ heart ached for his arms around her, for him to be buried deep within her. Tears moistened her eyes. She couldn’t bring herself to speak. She managed to move her trembling limbs to kneel before him. She swept her fingers through the damp curls on his head and brushed her lips over his. They began with soft tender kisses that quickly grew stronger, deeper. His fingers tangled in her hair. As they kissed, Bess rose up and spread her knees outside his thighs. Colm took first one nipple, then the other into his mouth. The sensations of his sucking mouth and teasing tongue traveled to her nub, made the desire curling deep in her pussy even stronger. His hips bucked. The tip of his cock touched the opening to her passage. The need to have him inside her rippled through her body. Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, she lowered onto him. Bess felt her opening encircle him, pull him in as she lowered more. She wanted him deep, wanted it so neither of them could separate from the other. Rising a little, she shifted her legs so

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they dug under his lower back. His arms wrapped around hers, supporting her. He groaned as her arse met the coarse hairs on his legs. His cock filled her so completely his tip pressed against her womb. Bess could barely breathe from the full sensation. She pulsed around him. He pulsed within her, too. “Bess.” He grunted, trying to lift her off him. “Not yet, Colm,” she pleaded. She wrapped her arms and legs tighter around him, held his head to the crook of her neck. Her inner muscles gripped him tighter, refusing to let him go. She wanted to remember this forever…the feel of them being one, the feel of his heart beating within her. The need grew stronger and the ache in her womb grew tighter. She surrendered, rolled her hips, encircling him but not letting him leave. Her nub rubbed against his flesh and the wiry hairs at the base of his cock. Her body tensed and her release loomed. Colm panted, struggling. “I’ll not spill my seed in you, not until we’re married.” “I’m close, Colm. So close,” she rasped. He grunted and arched back, dipping his head. He drew a nipple into his mouth. His mouth’s draw made her nub more sensitive. Her head dropped back. She rolled her hips faster. He was so hard and deep. Her breaths were audible until her passage could tighten no more, and she cried out with her release. “Christ, Bess,” Colm growled. He moved her to the mattress. His cock thrust in and out of her in a hard frenzy. He cried out, pulling himself from her. His seed spilled onto her belly as he fell to her, both of them gasping for air. Bess smoothed her hands over his back, reveling in cradling him between her legs and the feel of his weight on her. “Bess.” He nuzzled her neck, pressed a kiss to the pulse pounding in her throat. “It’s getting so hard to leave your body. I can’t wait to make you my wife.”

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Her heart wrenched. She wanted nothing more than to be his wife, to have his child inside her. But she knew she didn’t want to bring new life into this city. She prayed tonight went as she hoped it would and that someday she would have his children.

***** “You listening to what I’m saying?” O’Regan clasped his shoulder. Colm nodded, doing his best to ignore the roar of the already bloodthirsty crowd. O’Regan had been at his side since he’d arrived for the fight. Since his cousins were supposed to keep Bess safe, he was glad to have the man there. “Don’t let your woman distract you.” Again he nodded. It’d be tough but he’d push Bess from his mind when the time came. He needed to win. He would win. “Don’t let the bastard push you into the crowd.” “I won’t.” He knew better. His opponent more than likely had men waiting in the crowd, ready to shove a knife through his ribs. “In case things get dirty.” O’Regan brushed his temple along his as he dropped something heavy into his right pocket. “Mullach a-bu.” Colm slipped his hand into his pocket and gripped the weapon, which was made of metal and had a point on one end. If things turned dirty, he’d do what was needed to come out the winner. “On top forever,” he repeated the Irishman’s creed. He glanced over to where Bess stood, wringing her hands. “Bess…” “Get a move on, this crowd ain’t going to wait.” O’Regan stepped toward the door of the small storage room. “You, too, Finn and Rory,” Colm commanded with his voice and stare. Cursing, his cousins followed the other man across the room.

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“Come here.” He encouraged Bess. Once she was within his reach, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. His mouth settled intently over hers. She wasn’t shy or timid in her response to his demanding tongue. He allowed his lips and hands to express what he couldn’t say. The kiss turned deep until he groaned in need. A pounding at the door ended their embrace. “Get your arse out here! Time’s a wasting!” He grunted. “Colm…” With two fingers pressed to her swollen lips, he stopped her. “We’ll talk after the fight.” She sighed, and he urged her toward the waiting men. O’Regan pulled the door open, allowing Rory to step through. “Finn, your word.” Colm cast his cousin a hard look. “You’ve already got it.” Finn pushed his hat back. “Keep her out of trouble.” His cousin grasped Bess’ arm, pulling her away. Rory followed them into the crowd that swarmed the warehouse. From behind, O’Regan gave him a nudge. “Come on. We’ve money to win!” Two of O’Regan’s men fell into step in front of them. His heart pumping something fierce, he pushed his way through the throng of onlookers. Cheers and slanders echoed madly in the building. Hands slapped and pushed at him as he made his way to makeshift ring in the center of the warehouse. No barrier separated him from the mob. He spared a glance at the crowd. Both English and Irish waited. The poor mixed with the well-to-do. And the amount of attending officers was laughable. None would stop them if the fight turned dirty. Not a one of them would raise a hand if blood spilled on the floor. If a life was lost they’d all cheer.

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He tried not to consider what the mob would do if they didn’t get what they wanted out of the fight. There was no time. Now he needed only confidence. Finally, he faced his opponent. The man was thick and stout with a low brow. His nose had been broken in the past and sat crookedly on his squat face. “Looks like a witless bastard,” O’Regan murmured from close behind him. Half-witted or not, the man could still slash a blade as good as any other man. “Remember, stay away from the reach of the crowd.” He nodded. “And keep your head on the fight.” Immediately, he sought a glimpse of Bess. He couldn’t locate her, though he spotted Rory close by. Movement across the clearing got his full attention. The man smiled, revealing as many jagged as missing teeth. He lurched forward halfheartedly, only to bounce back on his feet. A cry went up from the crowd. Colm edged forward, waiting for the attack to come. He needed the man close enough to pound with his fist. Instead of approaching him like Colm wanted him to, the bastard took to dancing a step or two in his direction. He didn’t come within punching reach. Colm stayed where he was. Soon the man would get frustrated and come at him like a raging bull. Jeers along with slanderous words for both of them roared from the onlookers. Sweat beaded his chest and palms as he kept his fists up to shield any attack. He braced his stance and sized up his opponent. His heart pounded in time with the crowd’s chants. They wanted blood. Time and again, the other man played his game of approach and feint. 68

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The actual attack came in low and surprised Colm. But he took the punch with nothing more than a grunt. The hundreds of cheers among the crowd blended together as one. His opponent pranced about as if he’d already won. Colm readied himself for the next attack. This time when the man didn’t duck back, he pounded the man along the side of his head. The fight was on. Colm followed the close, hard jabs from the other man with his own well-aimed punches, then shoved the fighter away to catch his breath. Still, the broader man came at him relentlessly. Sweat rolled down Colm’s body to pool at the waist of his trousers. Something from the corner of his eye caught his attention. O’Boyle stood before the crowd, arms crossed, face smug. But it wasn’t him that sent a rush of fury through Colm. It was the man O’Boyle was next to. He’d recognize his own features anywhere. It was Ryewich. O’Boyle smirked at the man, tipped his hat and ducked into the crowd. His father watched him. The glare he gave Colm was meant to intimidate. It did just the opposite. It fueled him, gave him just the incentive he needed. The Englishman’s sapphire would be his. A fist plowed into his jaw. Colm roared and fired back his own punch. Damn the bloody English. He was going to win.

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Chapter Six Bess pressed her fingertips to her lips to keep from screaming. Her eyes squeezed shut and her body cringed every time a fist connected with Colm’s body. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a breath. His opponent swung and connected with the side of Colm’s face. Blood and sweat sprayed into the air as his head shot back and he fell to the floor. “Colm!” She screamed and ran toward him. Finn’s arm reached out and stopped her. “He’s all right, Bess. Come on, Colm, give him what for!” She watched as Colm struggled to his feet. His winded opponent charged, ready to knock him down again. Her heart pounded in her throat. Colm’s fist swung up and landed hard in his opponent’s gut, then his other fist followed and slammed into the man’s jaw near his ear. His head snapped to the side and his body stumbled, following it. Colm continued a rally of punches to his ear until he landed another very strong one on the side of his head. His opponent’s body hit the floor. The crowd roared. Finn turned to her. “That’s it! He’s done it! Colm won!” He gave a loud yell. “Come on, Bess!” The hand on her arm was worked free as the crowd swarmed toward the ring. She watched Finn vanish. He won! Bess wanted nothing more than to push through the crowd of people waiting to shake his hand and join his cousins in the ring, hugging him and making sure he was truly all right. But she couldn’t, not yet, even as she saw him search the crowd for her. It wasn’t over for her yet. “Bess!” He’d seen her. 70

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Her heart pounded in her throat. She’d taken two steps toward him when an arm wrapped around her waist. “I kept me word ta ye, Lisbet. I expect the same from ye.” Her skin grew cold. “Your fighter didn’t fight fair, Mr. O’Boyle.” “Fought fair enough.” His grip tightened as Lady Pembroke and her brother entered the ring, about to award the sapphire. “I kept me word enough ta keep Devaney from startin’ the fight in serious pain. And you’ll be wantin’ me ta see he lives ta enjoy that sapphire after he leaves here, doncha, Lisbet? Shall we go?” Rory and Finn were holding Colm to keep him from jumping into the crowd. Then whistles sounded. Bess looked around. She saw police struggling to break through the chaos around them. She couldn’t let O’Boyle leave. It was too easy for him to disappear in the city and hide the jewels. And there was no guarantee he wouldn’t kill Colm. She had to make sure he was put somewhere he wouldn’t hurt Colm. The whistles sounded again. Prison. She had to see the plan to its end. “Perhaps I should give ye these first.” She reached into her satchel and lifted the pouch of jewels. A smile curled his mouth, baring yellowed teeth. He had no idea the police were here for him. He took the bag and shook it, winking at Colm. Rage scorched Colm’s face. Only he wasn’t looking at O’Boyle but her. Her heart sank to her stomach. She wanted to run to him to explain. “Come now, Lisbet. I want to collect all you promised me.” The police were getting closer. She needed to stall O’Boyle. “I need to see the sapphire in his hands and be certain he’ll walk out safe without me. I don’t want him coming after me.” That was the hardest thing she ever had to say. She didn’t want to hurt Colm, but she had to ensure he could leave this city with O’Boyle unable to hurt him. She only prayed the police would get to them and this was all she’d have to do.

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“‘Twould be a fun confrontation, Lisbet. But I suppose seein’ the defeat on his face will be just as enjoyable.” The arm around her waist pulled her closer as O’Boyle leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to her cheek. “Fine, we’ll stay to the end.” Everything in her screamed for her to move away but she stayed at O’Boyle’s side. Her heart tore from her chest as she heard Colm yell out—cursing her? She swallowed the sob caught in her throat. “Move aside! Move aside!” The police had finally reached them. With relief, she pushed away from O’Boyle, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Two policemen grabbed O’Boyle’s arms. “Thomas O’Boyle, you’re under arrest for thievery and possession of stolen goods.” They reached into his coat pockets and soon retrieved the pouch. O’Boyle’s men, who had been lazily milling around, scattered as soon as the policemen grabbed him. O’Boyle struggled. “She gave them to me! She stole them!” Her heart continued to pound as a policeman arched a brow at her. “Can I have your name, miss?” “Elizabeth McGinty, sir.” He glanced at some notes on a small pad and chuckled. “Right, O’Boyle. Miss McGinty is the one who reported you’d stolen the jewels.” The officer pulled roughly on one of O’Boyle’s arms. “Let’s go!” “You traitorous bitch!” O’Boyle continued to struggle. “You set me up.” One of the policemen punched him in the gut and winded him before they cuffed him and started dragging him from the warehouse. Elation coursed through Bess. She knew it had to be Lady Pembroke and Lady Abbott’s influence on the police. Otherwise she would most likely be on her way to prison, too.

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She moved as fast as she could through the crowd…to Colm. He had turned his back to her and was taking the sapphire from his father. He’d done it! He could have everything he dreamed. She wanted to shout her joy but the uncertainty of how angry he was with her—and if she were still part of his dreams—kept her silent. She stood quietly, taking the daggers Rory and Finn’s eyes cast her way. As long as she could explain it all to Colm. “Colm.” She said his name quietly, uncertain he’d care what her explanation was. Colm turned. His surprised look at seeing her standing there quickly returned to anger. He looked and saw O’Boyle being dragged away. “What? Not off supporting your man?” “Please, Colm! Please understand, I only wanted ye safe. Please forgive me… It was —” Lady Abbott walked to her side and shook her head. She addressed Lady Pembroke. “It seems we have this young lady to thank for retrieving our jewels.” Colm’s stormy expression turned to confusion. “Oh, really?” Lady Pembroke smiled. “Yes and the man responsible will be going away for some time. At least, long enough for some to get away from this city safely.” “Double-crossed over a bloody woman,” Colm’s father growled as he passed them. Bess looked at the man. Their features were very similar, but there was nothing else of him in Colm. Understanding dawned on Colm’s face. “Bess?” “He was gonna hurt ye to win, Colm. I couldna let him.” “Sweet Jesus,” Rory cursed, dragging his hand through his hair. “I told ye there was something else to it.” Finn slapped Colm’s shoulder. Bess wrapped her arms around Colm. She closed her eyes, listened to the beating of his heart beneath her ear. “You won. I knew you would if you had a fair chance.”

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“I wondered why O’Boyle and his men had kept a distance before the fight. But you shouldn’t have taken such a dangerous risk,” he scolded. His arms remained at his side. “You won. And you’re all right?” She ached to feel his arms around her. He seemed to understand her actions but he still seemed distant, angry. “I’m fine. We best get you home to your da.” She touched the sapphire—his future—in his hand. Was she still part of his future? “We have to tell Da you won—that you’ve won more than the sapphire.” “Have I?”

***** People continued to swarm around them, congratulating Colm, as they made their way to the shack. Colm had yet to look anything but fierce. She trembled, a bit unsteady. Bess’s entire body felt anxious. In a halo of lantern light, Bess spotted her father in his chair. The look on his face was none too pleased. She waved. He stood and went in. Separating from the crowd, she left Colm to follow him inside. “You’re still awake.” She gave a tentative smile. He sat at the table with his arms folded. “Difficult ta sleep with all that commotion.” He glanced toward the cots. His voice quieted. “I didna want to believe ye were doin’ wrong.” Chills raced over her skin, “Da, I—” “But Mrs. Flanders came ta me today,” he continued, his eyes pinning her. “She was concerned about how much time ye and that boy were spending alone, coming and goin’ at all hours.” His accusatory finger pointed at her. His eyes condemned her. “You been with that bastard! Ye let him ruin ye!”

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“Not ruin, da.” She paced as her hands smoothed over her belly. She would never be sorry for what she’d shared with Colm. She faced her father and raised her chin. “How can I be doin’ wrong? Colm makes me feel everything will be all right. Makes me life bearable.” Her throat tightened. She blinked away threatening tears. “Don’t make me choose between ye, da. ‘Twould tear me heart in two.” Though she loved her father, she knew with all the decisions she’d made recently, she had made her choice already. If he would have her, Colm was where her future lay. “Yer in love with the English bastard, aren’t ye?” A cough took hold as he tried to stand. “Da, not an English bastard.” She helped him sit back down and knelt before him. “I’m in love with Colm Devaney. There’s so much more ta him than who his father is. Ye know it, or ye wouldna have asked him ta take us in.” His jaw remained set but his eyes had softened. “He won tonight, da. In a way, he defeated the English for us. The sapphire came from the man responsible for everything we lost. And with it, he now has a future.” “And ye? Ye want ta be part of that future, me girl?” His hand smoothed her cheek. “I…He hasna said…” She wanted nothing more but since he’d seen her with O’Boyle, he’d neither denied nor confirmed still wanting her. “Well, boy?” He looked up past her. Bess gasped and spun around as she stood. Colm and his cousins stood in the doorway. Her heart lept. Colm’s eyes were no longer fierce. No longer distant. They were dark, possessive. A familiar heat washed through her. Her father slipped his gnarled hand into hers. “Appears ye’ve won me daughter’s heart along with that sapphire. What do ye intend ta do with such a valuable prize?” “I intend on making her my wife.” Colm’s eyes didn’t leave her. A sound of happiness bubbled into her throat. She took a step forward… “Are ye tellin’ me or askin’ me?” Her da’s grip tightened on her hand.

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“Am telling you, I am going to marry her. Am asking you for your blessing.” Her da grunted. Holding her breath, she looked down, a plea on her lips. “‘Tis what ye want, me girl?” Her heart pounded so loud she barely heard him. “It is, da. ‘Tis what I want.” It was what she wanted with every ounce of her being. Her da stood, a slight tremor in his hand the only indication he was ill. “‘Tis for me daughter’s happiness I give me blessin’ then. You best see she stays happy.” Bess squealed her delight and hugged her da. Then she looked at Colm, suddenly unsure what to do. “Well, go on.” Her da waved his hand. “Ye been kissin’ her enough behind me back, might as well ta me face, too.” Rory and Finn cheered and urged him on. Finn rushed to get some cups and whiskey for a toast. “Thank you, Seamus.” Colm shook the old man’s hand, then pulled Bess into his arms. His hard cock pressed against her belly. Desire curled inside her. Bess slipped her arms around his neck and tilted her head. His lips met hers. It was a soft brush of flesh, more chaste than any other they’d shared, but none had ever filled her heart so completely. She searched his face, touched her fingertips to the cut over his eye and the swelling around it. She was so relieved he was all right and that the fight was over. “Quit your fussing.” He chuckled. He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “You truly love me, Colm? You understand why I did what I did?”

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“I do.” He grasped her arms. “I never wanted to rattle a woman’s bones as much as I did yours though. You took too much of a risk for me. As your husband, I’ll see to it you never do the likes of that again.” “If ye say so, Colm.” Bess sighed, not in frustration from his lecturing tone, but in happiness. She smiled, knowing everything was going to be all right.

***** Colm stood up and twisted his back from side to side to relieve the ache of a long day’s work. He looked out across the fertile Ohio land. At O’Regan’s urging, they’d set out for a city called Cleveland. The city had been fairly crowded but thankfully, they’d found land for sale an hour’s ride south. Seamus had wanted to go further west. Colm didn’t. The land here was as beautiful as any he’d seen. Better yet, they had fresh water nearby. But the deciding factor was that Bess had gotten sick. She heaved her breakfast up most mornings. It worried him something fierce. He’d gone as far as he was taking his wife. “Are they all gone now?” Bess stepped out onto the porch of their new home. She lifted her face, letting the last rays of the day’s sun caress it. “Every last one of them.” A twinge of jealousy hit him, he climbed the steps to her. “Finn and Rory, too?” He snorted. Bess laughed, wrapping her arms around his middle. “I’m sure those two will head into the city soon.” It was a wonder his cousins had a coin left of their winnings. You couldn’t keep the pair away from the whores. He wondered if there were women out there that could make honest men of them. Colm held Bess close. The need to have her even closer heated his blood. He sighed and nuzzled her hair. Its clean scent teased his senses. 77

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“The barn looks grand.” Her hands caressed his back. He lifted his head. How many times had he dreamed of such a sight? How often had he wished to have Bess in his arms like this? Would he ever get used to it all? “It does.” The neighboring families had been more than generous with their time and labor. The barn raising had gone quickly and smoothly. Food and drink had been plentiful. O’Regan had been right when he’d assure them an Irishman would be welcomed in this fertile land. It was so unlike where they’d come from. “This will be a good place to have a family.” She squeezed him. He grunted. “With my cousins and your father, there’s plenty of us—” She pulled away, but he urged her back into his embrace. “Wife…” His heart hammered underneath her palm. He’s lived in too close quarters with her not to know what ailed Bess. The sickness. The swift changes in her emotions. Worried or not, he was no fool. His wife carried his child. Over growing tension, he swallowed. Memories of all the women he’d heard of dying in childbirth made him shut his eyes in prayer. Not his Bess. She’d be fine. As well as their child. Still, worry jumped in his stomach. Damn, he’d be more careful with her from here on out. He dipped his head and kissed her lightly on her lips. “I love you.” Tears welled in her eyes. Bloody hell. Sighing, he cradled her in a tight embrace. “Everything is going to be fine.” “You already know, don’t you?” She wiped her eyes. “I know everything about you.” He rubbed his chin across her head. “I noticed the sickness.” Every time she’d heave, it’d made his own stomach roll. “One baby…One baby will be enough.”

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She gasped, pushing against his chest. “Colm Devaney, you may have won the fight and enough money to see us comfortable.” Her eyes blazed with a maddening mixture of emotions. “But I won this. Our home. You. And as many children as we want.” He chuckled and admitted, at least to himself, that his wife would get anything she wanted.

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About the Author I am the alter ego of a Jersey Girl and a Midwest Hoosier. Both have a love of writing and reading romance novels with yummy alpha male heroes. They decided to combine these and I was born. I am the combination of their voices. I write hot sensual romances. In them the sparks fly from the first heated glance to the fever of that passion fulfilled. The romance is mixed with adventure of all kinds, be it spine-tingling action, a mystery waiting to be solved, or a meeting of the unknown, in any time or place. Throw in an alpha hero after his heroine’s heart and the possibilities are endless. I love the what-if’s that throw twists and turns at the characters, that torture and bring out the best or worst in them as they search for their happily ever after.

Marissa welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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