Tempted Read Free

ridiculous to have so many people doing housework. But the housework was hardly the point—Denver was full of widows from the war, and Negroes looking for work as free men and women, and it was the right thing to offer people a chance. But he would never see that.
    Because he not only got to take the easy way, he chose it. Time and time again. He chose not to take responsibility. Of course, that exact failure in him was what allowed her such freedom, so she couldn’t get too angry with him.
    When she turned to face him, she was surprised to see him standing. And close.
    “What if I’m not willing to take the risk anymore?” He murmured. She could see that the drug was leaving him, and he was filled with the remorse and guilt that always came after. Such a cycle, she thought. Such a terrible, life-ruining cycle.
    “It’s not your risk to worry about, but if you are to be eaten up with guilt, you can pay me a wage.”
    “I was thinking something… more indelible. Something that would protect you in some capacity.”
    The issue of protection was a sore spot with her. She’d had her fill of men wanting to put her in a box to be protected. She’d had enough of that in her home before the war. Now, out here in the West, she could be what she wanted. Who she wanted. Protection was the least of her desires.
    “I’ve told you before, I have no desire to be protected.”
    “Do you wish to be married?”
    The word dropped like a stone in her stomach. The silence in the room was thin and tight. She sucked in a careful breath.
    “Are you… are you speaking of marriage?” Nervous, she laughed. She sounded like a hen.
    “I am not joking, Anne. You walk around this city, doing the work of a man, thinking your role as a widow and your position as my ‘assistant’ will keep you safe.”
    “You forget my wealth,” she said.
    “No,” he told her, his eyes direct. Honest. “I don’t.”
    Ah
, she thought with a painful tightening of belly. This wasn’t just about her “protection” but also her money. Because the good doctor had none.
    “But all your wealth will not keep you safe,” he said. “Not forever. You treat the whores at Delilah’s, men alone in their rooms, the opium addicts.”
    “I’m not interested in protection. I am happy as the eccentric, wealthy widow.”
    “Surely there is something you want,” he said. He stepped closer to her, far too close. She would have stepped back, but Sam and the table were there.
    Finally, so close she could touch the gold chain of his watch if she wanted, he stopped. “Children?”
    “No. I don’t want children.” That had been a dream for other girls. She’d been raised not to get her hopes up, to settle into her life as the spinster aunt. The caretaker of her brother’s and sister’s children. Perhaps she’d garden or raise prize goats. But now, she was out from under that life. And she had worth far beyond what she’d ever dreamed.
    And she liked it.
    He stepped closer again, and when she took a breath her unbound breasts touched his chest and she nearly cracked down the middle with the sensation. She nearly stopped breathing.
    This. This was a thought she shooed away like stray cats at her kitchen door, because letting this feeling, this mad twitch under her skin, this ache in her bones, into her life would only leave her empty. Sad.
    And she was not empty or sad.
    “There are other benefits to marriage,” he said.
    His lips pressed hers and… it was a kiss. Her very first.
    Well
, she thought,
here it is
.
    His lips against hers were dry and disconcerting. Never, never had a man stood so close. A conscious man, anyway. She’d never felt a man’s breath against her cheek. A wide chasm opened in her belly. A strange and sudden awareness of her skin. Of the blood that beat in her veins.
    Despite its uncomfortable intimacy, it was quite... interesting. Not quite the thrill her sister would have had her believe when they’d gossiped in bed after dances