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, at least not until now. For this man standing before her was looking at her like he could see the woman behind the whore, and 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.

Framed by the timber and brick of the St. Katharine’s warehouse, the walls glowing a foul 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 “the eyes of an old soul.” He was dressed like a stevedore in his black boots and wool pants, his faded blue shirt unbuttoned to frame his chest and stomach, and just like somebody who worked on the docks, had the muscled physique to show for it.

“You’re right, you’re right.” Mr. Adams clapped his hands and the sound was consumed by the crowd reacting to the introduction of the fighters. “But I figure it can never hurt to have a little extra luck on your side, eh? But mind yourself that 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 short stature and Lady’s height put his head just at her shoulder, yet unlike most men, he seemed to enjoy having her tower over him, her blonde curls tangling around his neck. He often said so before he tossed up her skirts.

Lady knew she’d waited too long and quickly managed a throaty laugh while she slid her arm around Mr. Adams’s shoulders. She’d been hypnotized by the danger of King, much like a snake by its charmer, and knew she had to get her head back in Mr. Adams’s game or risk the consequences.

 “Now, Mr. Adams, no fighting your best man,” Lady said and winked at him. “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 penny drama. She’d managed to play her role. The last thing she needed was Mr. Adams in a temper because King didn’t play his. Lady could cover for the kiss she was scared to give, but it would be so much easier for both of them if King just 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 feel powerful while doing it, he would be killed. Lady woke every morning knowing that same fate could be hers, too. Thankfully, she no longer had to earn money like King. She just had to 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 his 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 said and inclined his head toward her.

“I told you so.” Mr. Adams pointed a stubby finger at King. “I told you I had a lucky charm for you. You’re going to win this tournament of mine and be crowned toughest bloke in the world.”

King laughed with Mr. Adams, and Lady beckoned to the betting man with a wave of her hand. “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 that 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.

“Aw, pet, spending your hard earned blunt on my fighter. That means a lot to me, it does.” Mr. Adams sounded emotional and 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, his hips thrusting forward in time with his laughter.

Lady looked both coy and wicked like she was supposed to, and glanced away as a blushing girl would. She stole a glance at King and saw his face harden before he forced an appreciative laugh. There was a part of Lady, perhaps the blushing girl she never was, that felt a brief thrill that this man might be outraged on her behalf, but then she had to bury that thought in the same grave as the blushing girl. Lady may have wondered about King, the one man who didn’t look at her like he wanted her naked or bleeding, but there was no way she would ever find out what he did think of her. It had been two years since he’d been snared with her in Mr. Adams’s inner web, two years she’d been wondering, and she could make it twenty more without letting him get any closer. She had to. It was just 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 backwards. “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 and if there’s trouble, I’ve always got 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 because he stilled for a second.

“But it would make me feel better if your lucky charm gave you a lucky kiss.” Mr. Adams laughed and Lady knew what a good mood he was in. He must be, to still be laughing after having to ask for something twice. She would much rather keep him that way, so to keep a big fear from replacing a smaller one, she could kiss the man standing before her.

She stepped up to King, putting Mr. Adams at her back and out of her mind. Because in the middle of the warehouse, surrounded by the high-pitched buzz of the crowd and the smoky tang of Chinese teas long since shipped, Lady had to face this fear, and with it, the man who had caused it. She glanced at his mouth and was left wondering if his lips would have the same smoky taste as the tea.

“Trust me, King, this lady’s kiss is nothing to trifle with,” 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.

“Come, King, it’s only a kiss,” Lady said, deliberately pitching her voice low. She would make this the most sensual intimate kiss she had ever given and then walk away. No man had ever seen more than she wanted him to see, especially not this fighter, so she would do it and forget it. That would show King how little he thought he knew and let Lady leave her fear discarded at his feet where it belonged.

“Lady, you should know better than anybody, with Mr. Adams, it’s never only anything,” he whispered.

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, she also saw a cold, empty place, but 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.

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.