Dangerous Seduction: A Nemesis Unlimited Novel Read Free Page A

but he glanced down at his hand and saw that machine grease smudged a few of his fingers. With an apologetic grimace, he wiped his hand on his trousers—drawing her attention to his thigh—and then offered her his hand again.
    “Simon Sharpe,” he said. “Just got hired as a new machinist.”
    It would be downright rude not to shake his hand, so she did so. The contact of palm to palm sent a fast shiver of awareness through her. “Alyce Carr,” she said, trying for a level voice. “And you’d be wise to take up your bags and find work elsewhere, Simon.” Only the managers and bosses referred to the miners and workers by their last names.
    She let go of his hand and walked toward the village. He quickly fell in pace beside her.
    “Wheal Prosperity’s the only mine that’s hiring right now,” he said. “Don’t have much choice in the matter.”
    “There’s always emigration. Or you could try something different—like the music halls.”
    “I get seasick something terrible, so crossing the ocean’s out. And as for the music halls”—his low, husky laugh trailed along the nape of her neck—“they’d only pay me not to sing and dance.” His gaze was sharp and curious as he looked at her. “ You work at Wheal Prosperity, but if it’s as you’re implying, why don’t you leave?”
    The managers rode by on their trap, trailing thick clouds of dust as they returned to the village, and paying her and Simon no attention. Coughing, Alyce tried to wave the dust away. Finally, it settled, the trap already a speck in the distance.
    For a moment, she debated whether or not to be honest with him. There was always the possibility that he could be yet another of the owners’ snoops, hunting out agitators. But she’d never made a secret of her complaints, and she hadn’t yet been fired.
    Because they know I can’t do a damned thing against them, and I’m one of their best bal-maidens. To them, I’m just a gnat. A very productive gnat.
    “Can’t,” she answered bluntly. “I assume they gave you a chit to pay for your food and lodging for the week.”
    “Five shillings’ worth.”
    She whistled. “A princely sum. And did you read the words on the bloody thing?” She recited them from memory. The words themselves were stamped upon her very brain. “‘Payable in Merchandise, Non Transferable.’ That’s how we’re all paid now. With that damned chit.”
    “And there go anyone’s hopes of saving actual money. Couldn’t even buy a train ticket to carry you to someplace new.”
    “Just so.”
    A narrow stream dotted with rocks crossed the path they walked. Every so often, some enterprising person from the village thought to lay a wooden plank or two across the stream to make it easier to cross, but the planks never lasted. People rather liked skipping across the rocks—a little reminder of childhood play.
    Simon nimbly jumped from rock to rock and landed on the other side of the stream with just a few strides. He set his bags down and reached out a hand for her. To help her across.
    The gentlemanly gesture flummoxed her. It was so natural for everyone who lived in the village to cross the stream that no one ever thought to give anyone assistance. And she still didn’t like the idea of touching him. No, that wasn’t quite true. She didn’t like the sensations in her body caused by touching him. This man who was an utter stranger.
    Ignoring his outstretched hand, she picked up her skirts and leaped from one rock to the next until she reached the other bank. There wasn’t any harm in him seeing her ankles. Her boots were nearly as stout as his. Nothing provocative about heavy, sturdy leather.
    Even so, when she dropped the hem of her skirts, something like disappointment flashed in his eyes.
    She continued walking, with him right beside her. “Besides, all I know is working at the mine, and everyone I’ve ever known is here. My father worked here, as did his father, and his father’s father. My