To Love a Thief (Steel Hawk) (13 page)

Eating without conversation, neither able to utter anything that made any sense, they finished their meal a short while later. Alice had returned, busily heating water, requesting the cellar man carry it up to the tin tub in a room upstairs.

Rose pushed her empty plate away. “That was delicious, Alice. Thank you.”

Their hostess beamed. “Glad you liked it.”

“More than liked it. I must get your recipe.”

“Oh, I don’t have one of those. ’Tis a bit of this and a bit of that. All in me head, though that Harry of mine says there be nowt in there. Rude bugger.” A rumble of deep laughter rocked her, the woman’s ample belly shaking as much as the rest of her. She wiped her hands on her apron. “Now, missy, you head upstairs. ’Tis the door on the right. The water is ready, and I put linens out for ye.” Her brow creased as she looked at Rose’s bedraggled clothing. “I don’t know what we’ll do about your gown, though. ’Tis in need of a wash.”

“I don’t have anything else.”

“Hmmm.” Alice rubbed her chin with chubby fingers.

“Do you have a pair of trousers?”

“Trousers! Whatever for?”

“I could wear them.”

Alice shook her head. “But you’re a woman.”

“She’s done it before, Alice, so don’t worry about Rosie’s propriety,” Nathan interrupted.

Shock colored Alice’s soft gray eyes. “You haven’t?”

Rose nodded, cheeks tinged pink. “It’s easier to get around.”

“Aye, I’ll agree with you there. All these petticoats and layers, I’m sure they’re man’s invention to slow a woman’s pace. Maybe it’s the way they catch us.”

“Not if I can help it.”

Nathan held up his hands, laughing. “Help, I think the male species is under attack.”

Rose shot him a glare. “I just don’t want to be a man’s property and be told what to do.”

“That you’ve already made perfectly clear. I haven’t seen any suitors hanging about. Have you scared them off?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Actually, Nathan wanted to make it his business. Seeing Rosie again had brought back good memories of times when he’d felt safe, was off the streets and determined to get his life the way he wanted it.

Having to flee England to save his neck had been the only a blip in his plan.

“Right, missy,” Alice intervened. “You go up, and I’ll send some more hot water in a moment.”

Rose kept silent but swished past him, tilting her nose up in the air as she did.

Left with a singing Alice as she heated more water, Nathan stepped back into the bar, catching Harry’s eye. “Do you have a moment?”

Harry tossed aside the cloth he’d been using to wipe the top of the counter. “Aye, it’s a bit quiet, though I expect the evening rush any time.”

“It won’t take long.”

Harry sat on a stool behind the bar. He wiped his hands on the once-clean apron around his girth. “I can see you’re troubled, lad.”

Nathan chose his words carefully, and though he needed information, he didn’t want to reveal the whole truth. It was still imperative that the news of the Pasha Star’s theft be kept secret. “Someone has stolen something from me, and I need it back.”

“Any clues?”

“It’s to do with the royal house of Zarrenburg.”

Harry let out a long, low whistle. “You’re mixing in high circles since your days on the street.”

“They contracted my company to help them, but someone has ah…helped themselves.”

“So you gotta ask yourself who wants to play dirty with the royals.”

“Oh, I already know who.”

Harry wiped a hand across his bristling whiskers. “So what’s the problem?”

“I need to get to them, and I don’t know exactly where they are. Several of his bruiser goons hauled Rosie and me off to somewhere. We managed to escape, but have no idea where we were. Just that the flag of the country was flying high.”

“Zarrenburg’s flag? That don’t make sense, especially since you’re saying it’s Zarrenburg royals who you’re doing business with.”

“You’d think so, but it’s the truth. Someone wants to pull them down.”

“Aye, not surprising. Word on the street is much of Europe is in disarray, people arriving from them countries by the boatload. So how’d you get back?”

“By boat. There was one ready to cast off, so I
convinced
him
to take us.”

Harry’s whiskey-coated chuckle rumbled from deep down in his belly. “I bet you did. I remember you were a formidable opponent.”

“Definitely past tense
,
Harry. Those days are long gone, thanks to Alex Valetta.”

Harry’s tired eyes narrowed, and he cast a glance over his shoulder to the closed door to his and Alice’s quarters, and then back to Nathan. “Valetta. I’m guessing that’s his daughter, then.”

“It is.”

“A pretty little thing. You keen on her?”

Nathan’s gut twisted viciously. “Hell, no. Squirt’s a wildcat.”

“But it sure is good fun taming them. My Alice was hell-bent on tossing me to the roadside years ago.” He offered a knowing wink.

That surprised Nathan. Alice and Harry were like two peas in a pod, destined to be together. “I guess she succumbed to your charm in the end.”

“Yep, sure did.” Just then, several customers came in, and Harry got busy serving drinks and chatting. He was good at that and surprisingly often came up with a bit of useful information. Back in the bad old days, Nathan had used Harry on occasion, and hoped he might come up trumps this time too.

While Harry was busy, Nathan realized he was the focus of a few intrusive stares and decided it best to keep out of the way. The fewer people who knew he was back on home turf, the better. When he headed into the back room that worked as both kitchen and lounge for the couple, Alice cornered him.

“Where’s Harry?”

“He’s serving customers.”

Alice’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Darn it. Just when you need a man, and Charlie’s gone off to his wife. She’s due any day now.” She hefted the heavy bucket of steaming-hot water from the fire.

“Can I help?”

Alice wheezed as she deposited the bucket on the wooden table. “Well, since that no-good husband of mine is idling his time behind the bar, guess it’s up to you, my lad.” She handed him a thick padded cloth. “You’ll need this. The handle be hot.”

Nathan took it from her. “Where do you want it?”

“Why, upstairs, of course. I’m sure that little friend of yours will need some more hot water.”

“Rosie?” Nathan croaked.

“Aye, now don’t dilly-dally. Take it up while it’s hot.”

Take it to Rosie. In the bath. Bloody hell!

He took the stairs, heat rising to all parts north and south as he did so. Outside the closed door, he hesitated. “Rosie?”

No response.

“Rosie, I’ve got more water.”

Still no response.

He put his ear to the door. His chest tightened, concern escalating. He heard nothing. No voice. No splashing water.

What if she’d fallen asleep?

Drowned?

Fear spiraled irrationally out of control, and he elbowed the door open. “Rosie!” The bucket of water sloshed across the wooden floor. “Rosie…”

Everything in him stilled, words silenced, lungs compressed. No, not everything. One part of him was very awake as Rosie jumped up in the tub, eyes wide and cheeks scarlet. Soapy bubbles slid down her slick skin.

Oh, sweet Jesus. Trouble.

Rosie gasped. “Get out. Get out.”

“But I thought…”

“Don’t think, just get out.”

“Here’s more water.”

She sank back into the water, and despite himself, Nathan was disappointed it covered her fully once more.

“Nathan, turn around and stop staring.”

“Hard not to.”

“Oh, shut up.”

His body fired, and, despite telling himself he shouldn’t look, he looked and liked what he saw. He set the bucket of water on the ground and turned round.

Facing the wall, he eyed the bucket now only half-full of rapidly cooling water. “Do you want any more?”

“No. I’m getting out. You can go now.”

He didn’t move.

“Oh, bloody hell.”

Nathan heard rather than saw Rose fumbling as she exited the tub.

“Need some help?” he asked.

“No! Um…yes. I can’t reach the linen.”

The linen lay on the chair beside him, and if she had to reach it, well, then she’d have to stand naked beside him.

Hmmm. Nice idea that certainly had merit, but he also knew if he played that card, his life would not be worth living with Rosie bending his ear nonstop. He scooped up the linen and shoved it behind him.

She didn’t take it, and he chanced a quick glimpse over his shoulder.

Bad move. He’d thought his body had stopped working. Wrong! Every inch of him worked overtime!

“You did that on purpose, Nathan Hawk.”

“What?”

“Oh, don’t play innocent with me.”

“I
am
innocent. You wanted the darn linen, I simply passed it.”

“You didn’t need to look.”

She was right. He didn’t, but he couldn’t resist. He should get out of there. Really. But it was as if his feet were glued to the floorboards.

He turned away like a gentleman but stared at her reflection in the small mirror above the dresser. He screwed his eyes closed, willing away the thoughts rioting through his brain.

His libido wouldn’t obey, though, and those raging thoughts stirred, heating, enticing. “Shit! Right, there’s the water.” Nathan opened his eyes and fell toward the door, yanking it open.

As if the devil were on his heels, he scooted out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him and raced away from temptation.

Rosie had been just a child all those years ago. But those years had passed, and Rosie wasn’t a child any longer, but a young woman, a woman with glorious auburn hair, and, even wet from the bathtub as it slid across her dampened skin, he wanted to run his fingers through it.

Bloody hell!

He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to breathe as visions of her naked body roamed through his brain, a sight behind his eyes he could not eradicate. Sweet mercy. He was in big trouble.

Nathan fled the room and took the stairs two at a time. Distance. He needed distance from temptation. That was all.

Do I really believe that?

He had to. There was no other option.

Actually there was, but he would not, could not consider that. He wasn’t staying in England. He’d only come home to prove he’d changed, left his youth behind him.

Fool.

Back downstairs, Nathan yanked at his shirt collar and undid a few buttons. Damn it. He needed to breathe. He strode into the bar and fell to the stool beside it. “A whiskey, Harry, and make it a large one.”

“You look like you seen a ghost.”

“The past, Harry. It’s catching up.”

“Has a habit of doing that.” Harry passed him a large tumbler of golden-hued whiskey.

“More’s the pity.” Nathan downed a good portion of his drink in one gulp. The liquid burned his throat, settling in his stomach and instantly warming him. A gurgled cough choked his airway.

“You do that too often, my lad, and you’ll not have a past to consider. A good malt, this is, and it should be relished.”

“Probably.” He took a cautious sip. “Though I’d rather it burned away the thoughts crashing through my brain right now.” Thoughts of kissing Rosie. Holding her. Touching her glistening bare skin.

Yep, definitely big, big trouble.

Chapter Eleven

Heat trailing a path from head to toe, Rose stared at the door for a moment, too shocked to move. Shocked because of the way her body responded as she’d witnessed the gleam of desire in Nathan’s darkened eyes. Shocked because she had reveled in that desire, understood it and felt the very same in return.

Rose snatched up the linen that had fallen from her fingertips and roughly scrubbed at her skin to dry herself, when in truth she wanted to rub away those tingling sensations. She should not think such thoughts of Nathan naked too. Of his body touching hers.

Her stomach muscles clenched, her knees buckling beneath her. She snatched at the back of a nearby chair. What was wrong with her?

She shouldn’t have these thoughts. Or feelings. Nathan was…

Tall. Strong. Compelling.

I should be hunting out my father’s kidnappers, not thinking lustful thoughts about a man who is nothing to me.

But was she sure about that? For years, she had imagined all sorts of things about Nathan Hawk. Imagined him kissing her. Imagined him asking to walk with her. Marrying her.

Such stupid dreams. She could not afford such thoughts. She would not be any man’s chattel. She had her own worth as a woman, as a jeweler, and would not be a slave in any marriage. Her father had treated her mother as if she were a jewel in a crown. Precious. And yet the women in their neighborhood were often no more than chattel. She wouldn’t stand for that.

A knock sounded at the door. “’Tis only me, dearie.”

Rose wrapped the damp linen around herself. “Come in.”

The door opened to Alice’s cheery disposition. “I’ve found some of me boy Mickey’s clothes from when he was a lad. They’re a bit worn but clean and should fit you.” She handed over a folded pair of trousers, shirt and a patched woolen jacket. “If you’re wearing men’s clothes, you’ll need a cap to cover that gorgeous hair of yours.” Alice took out a cap from her apron pocket and passed it over. “Men lust after such beautiful hair. I’m surprised you’re not married already.”

“I’ll not be a wedded slave,” Rose countered, placing the clothes on the chair.

Alice’s brows lifted. “You think it slavery?”

“Working from dawn to dusk as an unpaid skivvy.”

“Ah, but then you get to sleep aside them, and well…” Her cheeks turned an even redder shade than they already were. “That makes up for all the hard work. Having the man you love give you a cuddle each night.” Alice sighed theatrically, flapping a hand in front of her face to act as a fan. She offered a wicked smile. “Listen to me. Anyone would think I’m in the first flush of love. But it does make it all worthwhile. Harry may be a bossy old coot, but I still love ’im after all these years, and he can still set my heart aflutter.”

Aflutter? Rose couldn’t imagine Floyd setting her heart aflutter. All she’d been able to do was smell the stink of sweat from him being so close to the fire pit as he’d forged the horse’s shoes. She’d imagined all the washing she’d have to do. No, nothing had fluttered on his account.

What about Nathan?
Everything flutters when I see him.

No, it didn’t. Rose’s silent denial proved fruitless. She knew the truth. But Nathan Hawk was not reliable. He’d already stolen into the night once before. What was to stop him from doing that again? And what about this secret past of his?

“Your Nathan is sure to set your heart a thumping.”

Absolutely
. “Oh no, he’s not my Nathan.”

Alice’s surprise was obvious. “Really? Now that is such a shame. He’d make any woman’s toes curl. Just imagine.” She chuckled and fanned her face again. “Oh my, and me old enough to be his ma.”

Unbidden heat scalded a path across Rose’s cheeks, her nipples pebbling beneath the linen wrapped around her. That was the darn problem. Imagining was all she did, and she shouldn’t even do that.

“He’s not my man and not likely to be. Nathan Hawk is…” Rose’s toes curled, and she found herself looking down at her feet. Words stilled on her tongue.

Alice’s gaze followed hers. “Told you so.”

“No. It can’t be. I can’t. He’s not reliable.”

“Sometimes the adventurous ones are the best. They give us a bit of excitement.”

“Until they leave.”

“Ah, but that’s the point. If they’re the right ones, they don’t leave.”

“Exactly.” Nathan had already left once, so that proved her point. The man would never be the right one.

And I believe this?

She had to. She couldn’t be adventurous and just leave. She had her father to think of, to take care of. That was more important than some silly infatuation that wouldn’t last.

After Alice left, Rose dressed quickly, then headed downstairs, worry churning. What now? Where were they to go?

Rolling up the legs of her trousers so she didn’t fall flat on her face, she tucked in the shirt and pulled the belt an extra notch tighter so they didn’t slip down her hips.

As much as she would prefer to give Nathan a wide berth, she headed downstairs nevertheless. They needed to talk about their next move. Maybe Harry’s contacts had come up with more information on the whereabouts of Prince Randolph’s lair.

She found Nathan in the bar, drink in hand, and by the way his eyes glinted as she walked in and he spied her, this wasn’t his first. “We need to talk.”

“I’m having a drink.”

“Bring it with you.”

“See, Harry. Told you. A regular bossy boots.”

Some of the patrons ceased their talking when they realized there was something more interesting to look at—her and Nathan. Rose leaned into him. “Nathan, not here. Please.”

“I’m busy.” A hiccup burst from his lips. “Going to have a bath soon. Care to scrub my back?” He swayed on his stool. One whiff of his whiskey-coated breath confirmed his inebriation.

“You’re drunk, and no, I don’t want to scrub any part of you.”

His offered a broad grin. “Shame. Could be fun. I could have scrubbed your back if you’d let me.”

“Over my dead body,” she whispered, leaning nearer. It wasn’t the whiskey that unsettled her, but his closeness, his body heat warming her right through her borrowed clothing. She tugged the oversized jacket tighter, wanting to hide her aroused body from his view. “We have to decide our next move.”

“Oh, I know a move.” He struggled off his seat and wrapped her in his arms, an embrace that forced her up against his length.

With a gasp, she recognized his arousal pressed against her. “Let me go, or you’ll regret it.”

“Already do. Shouldn’t have come back.”

Rose snorted. “How true. You’re drunk.”

He smiled down at her, and something in her stomach did a flip. “Yep. I guess I am.”

“So I’m not going to get any sense out of you, am I?”

“Nope.”

“Just as I thought. You’re unreliable. Is it any wonder…?” She shook her head, disappointed with him, and stepped away.

Nathan stumbled after her, falling at her feet. “Hey, squirt, you look kinda tall from down here. Funny that, when I know you’re not. Just curvy in all the right places. ” He held a hand up to her.

She ignored it, refusing to be baited in public, when what she wanted to do was give him a piece of her mind.

He hauled himself to his feet and offered her a lopsided grin. “You know any man would want to run his hands through that lusssssh hair of yours.”

“Nathan, be quiet.”

“Nope. Can I?”

Rose’s brow creased. Lord, she needed to get him out of this place. “Can you what?”

“Run my fingers through your hair.”

A burst of laughter circled the room. “’Ey, we got a queer one ’ere.”

Nathan rotated to face the speaker, grabbing at a chair in front of him as his lack of balance threatened. “Look closer, my friend, for squirt here is not what you think. Beneath the disguise is…”

Rose elbowed him. “Shut up, Nathan. Just shut up.”

“Ow.” He theatrically rubbed at his side. “Your elbow is mightier than the sword, sweet Rosie.” He offered a mock bow, but as he did, his hand swiped at her cap and knocked it from her head. It fell to the floor, and her hair unfurled around her shoulders.

Whistles echoed around the room. “A girl,” someone exclaimed.

“That’s right.” Nathan smiled to the patrons. He saluted her.

Rose snatched up her cap and jammed it back on her head, tucking her hair beneath as best she could. “You just wait, Nathan.”

“Yes, ma’am, whatever you say.”

A shout from a patron came from the other side of the room. “Nah, mate, don’t let her boss you around.”

“Already does. She may be small, but she’s got a temper.”

“All the better to control her.” The man emptied his tankard.

“Aye, probably a firecracker in bed,” another added to several nods of the men nearby.

Rose had had enough. “If you want to wallow in booze, then so be it.” She sidestepped him, and, head held high and refusing to make eye contact with the other patrons, she walked to the door that led into the back room.

“Wait.” Nathan’s call stalled her midstride. She turned to face him. He stood now, propped against the bar. “Sorry.”

“So you ought to be.”

“Don’t apologize,” said one.

Rose shot the man a scathing glare. “Is it any wonder you are here, sir? Your wife has probably tossed you out, given your propensity to over-imbibe.”

The man, who’d lifted his tankard for another sip, stilled for a moment, then lowered his ale to the table.

“Aye, Fergus, the girl’s summed you right up.” His friend chuckled.

Fergus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, dropping his gaze from hers. “Shut up, you lot. Me Polly knows what’s good for her.”

“And that, I would hope, is not you.” Rose turned back to Nathan. “What do you want?”

“Your help.”

“Why?”

“I do fear, squirt, if I let go of this bar, I’ll fall flat on my face.”

“Again.”

He offered her a crooked half smile. “Hmmm. It is a problem.”

“Self-induced.”

“So it seems.” He held a hand out to her.

Rose hesitated. “If I had any sense, I’d leave to your consequences.”

“You wouldn’t, would you?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Ah, squirt, have pity on me. Besides, I thought we were a pretty good team.”

“A team means the other person is reliable, and you’re drunk and as much use as a wet blanket right now.”

“Sorry.”

She shook her head. “Yes, yes. Come on.” She grabbed his arm and hooked it with hers as he finally let go of the bar.

“But you are always reliable.”

Nathan leaned into her, his warmth permeating her clothing once more. She held herself rigid, however, refusing to let him in. Refusing to acknowledge the desire that warmth ignited.

Back in the small room, she saw that Alice had already left for upstairs. There was a patchwork quilt on the sofa beside the fire. “I think that’s for you.” Rose led Nathan to the warmth of the fire.

“Wanna join me?” Nathan’s words slurred as he teetered precariously.

“Not in this lifetime.” Rose let go of his arm, and he toppled backward onto the sofa.

He stared up at her, his eyes glazed. “You sure are preeetty.” He hiccupped.

“And you are very drunk. Don’t ask for sympathy in the morning.”

“You going? Aren’t you going to play nursemaid?”

Saying nothing, she lifted his legs up to the sofa, and at the same time, Nathan fell back, hitting his head against the armrest. “Ow.”

“Serves you right. Maybe that will knock some sense into your pickled brain.”

“Hope so. Can’t go having lustful thoughts.”

Lustful? Oh dear God.

Rose busied herself easing off Nathan’s boots, then opened up the blanket and laid it over him. “Go to sleep, Nathan.”

“How about a kiss good night.” He puckered up and blew an air kiss. He smiled, and though he was drunk and she should be disgusted with him, he’d never looked sweet and more charming or like his old self, so funny and lighthearted.

Rose’s tummy twisted into knots again. She might want to kiss him, but she wouldn’t. She pulled herself up straight and pushed her shoulders back, reaffirming her resolve. She would not get sucked into those thoughts and needs. They weren’t important. Saving her father was. She sniffed at the alcohol-tainted air. “I don’t kiss drunks.”

“Aw, that’s not fair.”

“Who said life was fair?” And with that, she turned on her bare heel and left Nathan to sleep it off.

She’d only reached the doorway when she heard his soft whisper. “Maybe you’ll kiss me in the morning.”

No. No. No. That was not going to happen.

In bed, she tried to sleep, but that proved impossible as thoughts and memories of kisses teased her constantly.

Rose went over and over the day’s events. Meeting the ruler of Zarrenburg, and the shock that her father and the princess had once been lovers.

She presumed that was why her father had spoken very little over the years about his life back in his homeland. Did her father still love the princess? And what did that mean about his life with her mother?

But she couldn’t think of those things and rolled over, yanking the covers over her head. She’d witnessed with her own eyes the love her parents had for each other, a love that had lasted until the day her mother died. Alex Valetta still missed his wife terribly—even after all the years since her death.

And then there was Prince Randolph… Somehow he was involved.