The Fighter and the Fallen Woman
Read The Fighter and the Fallen Woman Online
Authors: Pamela Cayne
The Fighter and the Fallen Woman
By Pamela Cayne
London
,
1883
“
People like us don’t get happy endings.
”
In twelve years as a bangtail, Lady has never feared a man’s kiss. Owned by the ruthless Hannibal Adams, the “Earl of the East End,” she’s draped in jewels and dead inside. Lady learns fear, however, when she kisses Mr. Adams’s best fighter for luck—for King sees the real woman locked away behind finery and falsity.
King’s life is made of fists and scars, the only things that have ever felt real to him. Even his name came from the man who owns him—the man who turned him into a champion. From the moment Lady’s kiss sends him reeling, King resists wanting what he can’t have. Mr. Adams never gives up what he owns.
When Lady is sent to nurse King through the tournament, she finds a new strength through the one man who’s never treated her like a whore. King discovers that the woman who shares his dark world might also be the one to lead him out. And as the tournament comes to a violent finale, Lady and King must decide—stay spoiled and shackled, or break free and risk what happens when fear and dreams collide.
103,000 words
Dear Reader,
This month I’d like to take a moment to thank all of you who read, review and recommend. Word of mouth is so critical to the success of a book, and we so appreciate not just those of you who write reviews on retailers, review sites, and your personal blogs, but also those who have a love of talking books, as I do, and recommend the things you enjoy to friends, family and fellow readers in conversation, on social media, and at parent/teacher conferences (yes, I’ve done this!). Thank you, you help us grow and thrive!
Speaking of books to review and recommend, I hope you find something in this month’s lineup that inspires you. First, we’re pleased to introduce two debut authors. In
Time Served
by Julianna Keyes, eight years in prison have left Dean insatiable, and a decade apart isn’t enough to stop Rachel from surrendering any way he asks. Don’t miss this sexy contemporary romance debut!
For those who have longed for something different in historical romance, Pamela Cayne delivers in
The Fighter and the Fallen Woman
. In Victorian London, Lady and King, a prostitute and a street fighter, are kindred souls, each trapped in their own hells. Both owned by a ruthless businessman, they have no chance at love if they don’t first risk death.
Also new to Carina Press this month is a brand new male/male space romance series from author duo Jenn Burke and Kelly Jensen set aboard a
Firefly
-esque freighter, following a cast of misfit super-soldiers who have been through intergalactic hell and offering up a delicious and unexpected reunion romance. Don’t miss the first book in the
Chaos Station
series!
For those who love revisiting favorite authors, HelenKay Dimon’s
Chain of Command
is available in March 2015. Special ops Marine Sawyer Cain is ready for civilian life, trading danger for more stability by opening a gun range with his friends, but first he needs the land and that means going through Hailey Thorne...and nothing prepares him for her.
A drunken kiss between an out gay man and his supposedly straight best friend awakens long-repressed feelings that neither man is able to ignore in fan favorite A.M. Arthur’s
Getting It Right
.
Proving that all good things come to an end, we’re sad to say farewell to urban fantasy series Monster Haven from R.L. Naquin. In
Phoenix in My Fortune
, Zoey must stop the terrifying Shadow Man from breaking the ancient Human/Hidden Covenant and taking away all the Hidden in our world forever—including Zoey’s family.
Hunted by a killer, Layna Blair knows trust isn’t a mistake she can afford, but the six-foot-four Marine makes her an irresistible offer—her freedom, his rules, no questions asked in
Impossible Promise
by Sybil Bartel.
Author Kate Willoughby delivers another sizzling contemporary romance in
Out of the Game
. Alex Sullivan may be the San Diego Barracudas’ resident playboy, but he’s never forgotten his kiss with Claire Marzano. When he sees her again at a teammate’s wedding, he can’t think of anything but spending more time with her. Preferably naked.
Last, we wrap up two science fiction trilogies this month. In
The Epherium Chronicles:
Echoes
by T.D. Wilson, Captain James Hood and his ship, the
Armstrong
, survived the battle of Cygni, but the victory at the new colony puts humanity in more danger both in space and on Earth.
And from Timothy S. Johnston’s science fiction mystery series the Tanner Sequence, described as Agatha Christie meets Michael Crichton, Homicide Investigator Kyle Tanner is on an emotional journey as he hunts killers in a society plagued by violence and brutality. Stranded on a disabled vessel with a hostile crew that includes at least one serial killer, he must rely on the love of a remarkable woman in order to decipher the clues and solve the mystery in
The Void
.
Coming in April 2015: a hot erotic romance, two new debut authors and the launch of a new male/male new adult trilogy.
Here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
Dedication
To my husband
Acknowledgments
To Marilyn Brant and Heidi Betts—my two writing “big sisters” who have shared so much knowledge, offered so much support and taken “amazing” to new heights. I send you hugs, thanks and chocolate by the truckload.
To the Wiffers—the best writing group ever. Thanks for the years of encouragement, friendship and, most of all, fun. You are awesome! (Drink!)
For early reads, calming responses to long rambling emails and support of every kind—Marjie Walters, Anne Larson, Martin and Kristine Smith, Kay Beckmann, Jenifer Miller, Caryn Caldwell and, of course, Mom and Dad. Thank you one and all.
And to the amazing team at Carina Press, with special thanks to Alissa Davis. We started with a 140-character #CarinaPitch and it’s now this gorgeous thing. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Contents
Chapter One
London
,
1883
In the twelve years Lady had been a mistress, a bangtail and a whore, she had never been afraid of a man’s kiss. Dockworkers with missing teeth, boys who didn’t know enough to open their mouths, bastards who turned what should have been something sweet into something ugly, she’d faced them all and earned her coin. This man before her now was something she’d never experienced—a man she
wanted
to touch her. The thought scared her worse than her first time.
“Pet, give the gent a proper kiss for luck,” her protector ordered with a naughty grin. “You want King to be lucky and win now, don’t you?”
Lady pushed her fear down with an ease born of practice and gave the men a sultry smile. “Of course I do, Mr. Adams, though I don’t think luck is going to have anything to do with it,” she said, eyeing the fighter from head to toe and back again. “This man has let you show once again that you own the very best, another champion to join me under the Adams name.” She leaned close and whispered in his ear, “Though I prefer to be under you all by myself.” She sucked his lobe between her lips, giving it a soft nip, and his throaty laugh sealed a moment’s safety to look at another man. To look at
this
man.
Framed by the timber and brick of the St. Katharine’s Warehouse, the walls glowing a hellish red in the flickering gas lamps, King looked like a mercenary kicked out of hell. He stood a few inches taller than she did, the two of them on opposite sides of six feet, and his square face was unremarkable except for the imperfection of a broken nose and what a gypsy woman she’d once visited called “eyes of an old soul.” He was dressed like a stevedore in his black boots, wool pants and faded blue shirt, and like somebody who worked on the docks, had the muscled physique to show for it. He wasn’t necessarily handsome, not in a traditional way at least, but Lady had never been attracted to the pretty men. She’d always felt drawn to the ones who looked like they’d been brawling since before drawing breath, broken and scarred. King fit that image and, more than once, Lady had wondered how she’d fit King.
Ever since that night almost three years ago when he’d helped her gain her balance as her broken ribs caused her to stumble on that last stair, and then whispered, “Willow bark. It’ll ease the pain,” Lady had discovered this newest bruiser of her protector’s had kindness tempered with his strength. Now, after years of keeping their touches to a hand into a carriage or an elbow on a slippery patch of wet cobblestone, she was being asked to perform one of the most intimate acts two people could share with this man she pictured when Mr. Adams fell asleep beside her. A kiss sounded so simple, but it would be safer to offer a drunk a fine brandy and then ask him to pass over the rest of the bottle. She felt herself looking at King’s lips as if a drop of that brandy still clung there.
“I do own the very best, indeed I do.” Mr. Adams clapped his hands and the sound was consumed by the crowd reacting to the introduction of the fighters. It snapped Lady out of her thoughts and allowed her to collect new ones. If she didn’t get her head back in Mr. Adams’s game, she’d pay a painful price later. “But I figure it can never hurt to have a little extra luck on your side, eh? But mind yourself it’s a little, King, not a lot. Where a bigger kiss might mean bigger luck, it’d also mean I would have to fight you myself.” Mr. Adams shook a finger at King in a joking manner, but there was no doubt that if King got too friendly with Lady without Mr. Adams’s permission, the joke would be over.
Mr. Adams pulled Lady close with one arm around her waist, his hand lightly grasping her hip. His head reached only to her shoulder, yet unlike most men, he seemed to enjoy having her tower over him, her blond curls tangling around his neck. He often said so before he tossed up her skirts.
“Now, Mr. Adams, no fighting your best man.” Lady managed a throaty laugh while she slid her arm around her protector’s shoulders. “You want him to be in the best possible form for tonight, don’t you?” She looked at King and waited for him to act his part in this little drama. She’d managed to play her role. The last thing she needed was Mr. Adams to be in a temper because King didn’t play his. Lady could act blasé about the kiss she was scared to give, but it would be so much easier for both of them if King said his lines. Yes, he was a powerful fighter and Mr. Adams liked that King was always winning, but winning was nothing without adoration. If King didn’t bring in money and make Mr. Adams smile while doing it, he would be killed. Lady woke every morning knowing that same fate could be hers if she didn’t keep Mr. Adams happy. Very happy.
King cracked a smile and Lady felt herself slump with relief. To cover her gaffe, she turned in Mr. Adams’s arms, trailed her finger down her protector’s chest and cocked her head coquettishly at King.
“Have no worries, miss. I’m set to win tonight, especially with such good luck in my corner.” He inclined his head toward her.
“Yes, you are.” Mr. Adams pointed a stubby finger at King, his whole manner suddenly more intense. Lady prayed it was merely excitement for the fight. “You’re going to win this tournament of mine and be crowned toughest bloke in the world.”
Lady beckoned to the betting man with a wave of her hand, hoping to return Mr. Adams to a more relaxed state. “If King says he’s going to win tonight, then I’m calling that a guarantee. And if I know Mr. Adams, he would say such a guarantee is worth wagering on.
“Five pounds on King to win,” she told the betting man and reached into the neckline of her dress for the bill. She took the scrip he gave her and tucked it back into the same place with some extra patting and smoothing.
“Aw, pet, spending your hard-earned blunt on my fighter? That means a lot to me, it does.” Lady simply waited for what was next. “Of course, you earned it after I spent my hard-earned blunt on you.” He finished with a braying laugh, thrusting his hips against her thigh.
Lady looked both coy and wicked, like she was supposed to. She stole a glance at King and saw his face harden before he forced an appreciative laugh. There was a part of her, perhaps the blushing girl she never was, that always felt a brief thrill that this man cared enough to be outraged on her behalf. The woman she’d become took that thrill and buried it in the same grave as the blushing girl. King had the strength to protect her and, more importantly, she felt deep down that he cared for her enough to want to do so, but for him to take any action greater than he already had would have terrible consequences. A gentle hand to support her, a handsome face to picture in the dark—that would have to be it. Anything else was too dangerous. She was a rich man’s mistress and he was a rich man’s thug, and the two did not mix.
“Thank you for your confidence, miss.” King took a step backward. “Mr. Adams, I need to go be announced. That is, if you don’t need me for anything else.”
“No, you’re fine. I know most everybody here.” He opened his coat to show the slim, leather-wrapped handle of a knife he wore at his waist when he went out. “I’ve got this if somebody gets too close, and that’s if they even get past Shade.” Mr. Adams jerked his head toward the shadows and Lady watched King follow with his eyes. She could tell when he spotted Mr. Adams’s other bruiser. He looked back at Mr. Adams, and Lady watched King’s face tighten, his shoulders pull back as though standing at attention, and she felt something icy crawl in her belly without even having to look at Mr. Adams.
“But if it’s not too much trouble to ask,” her protector said slowly, “it would make me feel better if you got that lucky kiss.”
She’d only heard that tone in her protector’s voice once before and the sound of it still caused her breath to seize, her ribs to ache. The injury had long since healed, yet her deepest fears knew that one brought about the other. King may not face the same fears, but she couldn’t chance that Mr. Adams would find new ones for both of them if they kept refusing.
“Perhaps you have found your fighter’s secret, Mr. Adams.” Lady had been trying for lightly mocking, though truth be told, she was just happy her voice didn’t tremble. “He’s scared to kiss a girl.”
“Trust me, King, this lady’s kiss is sweet. Nothing to be frightened of at all,” Mr. Adams said and chuckled in a moment of shared masculine appreciation. Except King didn’t look like he appreciated anything. He looked like he fought everything, from the invisible tether Mr. Adams held to the dreams he had at night.
She wouldn’t let him fight her, though, no matter how scared she was to do this. She stepped up to King, putting Mr. Adams at her back and out of her mind. “Come, King, it’s only a kiss,” Lady said, deliberately pitching her voice low. She would give the kiss and pray her trembling barriers would hold, keep her safe against the desire to close her eyes, breathe in his scent, and feel for one moment that a fighter and a fallen woman had a future together.
“Lady, you should know when it comes to you, it’s never
only
anything,” he whispered so that only she could hear. “It’s everything.”
Lady braced herself for a deeper look into King’s eyes and saw flecks of gold in the brown, a fading bruise ringing his left, and a wariness that matched hers. Beneath all that was a cold, empty place, but she couldn’t tell if it was his or a reflection of hers. She quickly lowered her eyes, praying he hadn’t seen anything tonight other than a reluctant whore. With a quick intake of breath, Lady glanced at King’s mouth, closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his.
Warmth. Protection. Life. Lady could taste it on his lips, could feel it pulse around him like fire. For an instant, her entire body was flooded with heat and she longed to throw herself into it, knowing he would catch her and hold her close, protecting her from the flames while making her burn. It made her reach out, her fingers fluttering in the hidden recess between them, and she felt his hand already there, straining between sense and desire. He grabbed her hand only for an instant, but it was long enough to brand his touch on her skin before he let go.
Lady pulled back and her eyes drifted open, her held breath slipping from her mouth and into his. King was right. This would never be only a kiss.
* * *
Mr. Adams guided Lady around the edge of the fighting area. The middle of the warehouse, where the fights were going to be held, was illuminated by gaslights, but the walls held only branches of candles spaced every other beam. Mr. Adams seemed to follow the candles along the wall but Lady walked in the dark. The shadows fit her thoughts, ruminations about that kiss hiding from the light of what she knew reality was. Even with the taste of King still on her lips, she needed to get herself focused on Mr. Adams before he noticed anything was wrong.
“You surprised me last week when you said King was going to win the tournament for you. I didn’t know he was more than one of your guards,” Lady said. She tried to sound interested in Mr. Adams while being bored with King.
“He’s been my body man for a few years now but it wasn’t until recently I knew how well he could fight. Some brutes tried to rob us on the way home from your place, but King persuaded them it wasn’t worth it.” Mr. Adams laughed. “Once I saw what his fists could do, I started entering him in the street fights. He’s a good lad—respectful, loyal—and has been making me good money, so I got Shade to help when King was busy. After all, the more money King makes for me, the more I need Shade.”
“And the more money King makes for you, the happier you are.” Lady smiled and gave his arm a squeeze as they kept walking. “But aren’t you worried? I did mean it when I said he looked to be the very best, but isn’t there too much to risk?”
Mr. Adams stopped and peered at her. “Why all the questions about King? You looking at a brawny man now? That little peck get you all heated up for him?”
Lady thought frantically, stalling for time by nuzzling his ear. “Of course not, Mr. Adams,” she whispered. “Not for him.”
“Ooh, pet, I get it. You’re all hot for a little tumble here. The dark and the sweat of the fights getting to you, eh?” Mr. Adams pulled her flush against him and Lady could feel who was the more excited. She smiled beguilingly and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, knowing it was a coin toss whether she was going to get pushed against a wall and have her dress shoved up or not. She’d already seen one girl getting the thrust of some other man’s excitement, and neither she nor Lady would be the last to receive such a gift tonight. That was the way Mr. Adams planned it. The nobility of the London underground—thieves, murderers, and businessmen, plus more from around the world, coming here for fighting, gambling, whores and booze. They had lads to serve them and women to service them, sometimes the other way around. He also planned the length of the tournament—four rounds over almost two weeks—so the fighting, gambling, whores and booze could go on as long as possible, Mr. Adams profiting from all of it.
Lady looked over her shoulder as though trying to find a dark corner, but she was really trying to find a way out of this. There was no question she’d get dabbed tonight; she’d just prefer it be on her terms and her territory. Plus, the thought of King seeing it made her feel cheap for the first time in years.
“Mr. Adams? I say, I hate to interrupt you in what looks to be a quite pleasurable, ahem, discussion, but I’m afraid I simply must meet you before the tournament starts. And I do apologize to both you and the miss for interrupting.”
Lady turned toward the man standing on her other side. She’d been looking into the quiet end of the crowd and missed his approach. Had she even been glancing his direction, she would have noticed him. He was unusually tall and thin, with shoeblack hair and eyes the color of a spring sky.
“Your timing leaves much to be desired,” Mr. Adams said without releasing his hold on Lady. Where his words weren’t unkind, his tone was barely short of a growl. He didn’t even look at the newcomer, or if so, could only glance at him without lifting his head.
“Please forgive me,” the tall man said with a flat American accent. “But with the fights starting soon, time was slipping away.”