“God.”
His thumb grazed my cheek just as Sam’s had, but Spencer wasn’t comforting me or trying to protect me. He was enticing me. Perhaps even seducing me. “I said we weren’t going to gamble.”
A ferry appeared in the distance, and the crowd on the pier began to shuffle with excitement.
I pulled away from Spencer’s hand, knowing that I risked his irritation and ridicule. “I don’t want to go to the gambling boat.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to gamble, and I don’t want to drink. I can’t think of any other reason to go out there.”
“You sound like a prude.”
“I sound like someone who cares about my family and my career. I like to enjoy myself, but I don’t have to go places like this to do it.” I pulled back farther, disentangling my hand from his. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I wish you had told me sooner, and we could have saved some time. But I don’t want to go out there. I know who runs those boats, the same men I saw you talking to outside Sardi’s the other day.” The wind pulled at my wrap and played with the curls near my cheeks. “I don’t know why you associate with those people, but the idea behind our arrangement was that I would improve your reputation, not that you would tarnish mine.”
He stood on the dark pier, watching me, his gaze hard to read.
“I wish you trusted me, Ally.” It was the first thing that sounded like the truth out of Spencer Hayes.
“You haven’t given me any reason to trust you.”
“I’m supposed to be on that boat tonight.” His voice was calm. Steady. Serious.
“I imagine you are.”
“But not for the reasons you think.” He took a step closer and lowered his voice. “I’m supposed to meet with some men there tonight. I can’t tell you why, but I need you to trust me. Please. You’re doing me a favor.”
I stared at him for a long time, trying to decipher if he was being honest or leading me on again.
“I care about you too much to lie,” he continued. “But if I’m not on that boat, I will face serious consequences.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Going on the boat? A little. But I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”
“How can you promise something like that?”
“Look.” He turned and pointed. “I see Clark Gable right now—and Lana Turner. You know these people. It will be okay.”
I sighed. “Am I a fool for trusting you, Spencer?”
A smile tilted his lips. “Maybe a little.”
I shook my head. “Fine. I’ll go—but if I have any reason to regret this, I will never trust you again.”
He grabbed my hand like a kid who was told he could have a spending spree in a candy shop and led me to the crowd. When we came to a stop, he leaned forward and placed a kiss on my cheek, whispering in my ear, “You won’t regret this. I promise. Your trust is my highest aim.”
I already did regret this.
But only because his kiss kindled a fire inside me that made me afraid.
13
September 16, 1849
San Francisco, California
The room was still dark when I woke up in San Francisco the next morning. The relief that washed over me was so overwhelming, I closed my eyes to thank God. At this very moment, Cole might be on his way to Sacramento to write his novels, and though I had encouraged him to go, I hadn’t knowingly changed history. But it had changed in a small, positive way. For that, I was truly grateful. Something good had come out of this horrible situation.
