“Anytime. I aim to please…” She glanced over her shoulder. “…in everything.” She winked. “See you tomorrow.”
“How literal do you mean?”
She turned on her heel and gave a wide smile. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“Lucky me.”
“Or not. You can be the judge.” She gave a slight finger wave and disappeared out the door.
After she made her way back to her flat in Cheapside, she locked the four knobs on the door and then checked the windows just to make sure. She lit a single candle and checked her knives all stashed in various corners before sighing and feeling her body start to release its tension. The flame flickered as she moved throughout the room, undressing and washing off the grime from her adventures.
Finally, she carried the candle to her bedside table and gave a final glance about the room.
It wasn’t sumptuous; she’d stayed in places like that before. And it wasn’t shabby. Heaven only knew how many places she’d stayed that fit that description. It was simply… home, for now. Because home was a constant shift for safety. A deep longing she usually could keep buried, rose up, and kindled within her. To have a home, a place she was truly safe…
It wasn’t to be.
But how lovely it would be if it could.
After blowing out the candle, the faint scent of smoke lulled her into a dreamless sleep.
Morning would come soon enough, with all its complexities.
But even she needed to rest sometimes. And now was the time.
Chapter Ten
Emerson did not sleep well, which was an understatement. He’d tossed, turned, paced, and then around dawn, had finally slipped into a dreamless sleep that was entirely too short for having a good humor for the day.
Every time he’d closed his eyes, he’d been haunted by her gaze, the twist of her mouth in a smile, or the phantom sensation of her in his arms. It was madness, since he’d only held her really once, but it was as if it had burned into his memory and decided to haunt him like a bloody ghost.
Inconvenient that, since she was decidedly off limits.
For the moment.
But the moment was all he had currently, and sleep would have been a far better use of his time than pining for a woman who wasn’t exactly showing signs of her own interest in him.
It was frustrating, and not just for his cock, but for his peace of mind. When he finally had awoken, it wasn’t with a feeling of rest, but simply irritation. He’d broken his fast and decided to engage in one of the few vices he’d learned from his days at the army.
Boxing.
He gave quick instructions to his butler, and the moment the carriage was ready, he was on his way to his favorite ring. The brick building was old, even for London, and bore no sign of what it held within the walls. He alighted the carriage and strode to the alleyway, knocking four times on the heavy wooden door.
After a moment’s wait, it swung open, and Wallace — a lumbering Scot with a right hook like a mule’s kick — welcomed him with a toothless grin. “Ach, it’s been an age.”
“Too long,” Emerson replied, and walked into the brightly illuminated room. The dark tone of the brick seemed to swallow the light whole so the lamps seemed an excess when counted, but the room was perfectly illuminated. The scent of humanity, sweat, dried blood, and moisture lingered in the air as the sound of gloves hitting bags, pads, and flesh filtered through the smell.
“Feels like home, don’t it?” Wallace said, giving Emerson a solid smack on the back.
“Indeed, it does. Anyone need a partner this morning?” Emerson asked as he shrugged out of his jacket.
“Are you feelin’ courageous enough to take me on?” Wallace wagged his eyebrows.
“As long as you wear gloves and don’t make my teeth match yours,” Emerson replied with a quick grin.
“Fairs, fair. But to be honest, my wife donna mind my missin’ teeth.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t,” Emerson replied with some sarcasm and earned a wink from Wallace.
