them as the same eyes that had interrupted his sleep for the past two nights. They’d looked black from across the hotel dining room, dark and flashing as she’d sailed through the Hungarian rhapsody. But he’d discovered their hazel depths just the night before in the cloak room. And the smile that lit them.
It, of course, was noticeably missing at the moment. Above their smouldering darkness, the auburn hair he’d imagined plunging his hands into had escaped its pins and hung in ragged tufts.
“You?”
“You!”
He marveled at the change to her face as anger fled and embarrassment pounced. The flush turned to a blush. She moved her hands to set about repairing her hair and revealed the full lips that had tantalized Jess when he’d first met her at the Warwick. They were paler now, and quivering. Adelaide. Her name was Adelaide.
“I just...tripped...I’m so sorry, I...” she winced.
“Are you all right?”
“Not really, but...”
“Where are you hurt?”
“I’ll be fine. Now if you’ll be so kind as to help me up...” Her voice was thick with threatening tears, and Jess took pity on her state as he helped her to her feet. Something more than tumbling into his arms had upset this woman. The altercation he’d overheard flooded his memory and he winced, perplexed at how or why the man had so adeptly angered her.
“I’d be ever so...grateful...if we could just pretend this never, oo–” she gasped as she tried to take a step, “–never happened.”
“Careful!” Jess moved closer and stretched an arm behind to steady her. “Take it slowly, Miss Magee.”
She stiffened as he tightened his grip, and Jess was slow to realize why she shrank from his touch. What was he supposed to do? Stand back and watch her struggle to her feet?
He moved his arm for a better grip around her slim waist and clamped a curtain over his thoughts as he grasped the meaning behind the very pleasant feel of her ribs beneath his hand. To say nothing of her soft bosom pressing into his side.
He could feel no stays, no wires, none of the usual rigid barriers a gentleman associated with a lady. Just pliant fabric between himself and Addie Magee.
Miss Magee, he’d discovered, wasn’t wearing a corset.
“I’m fine! Really!” She pulled away and slipped quickly down two steps and away from his grasp. “Thank you so much.”
“But...wait! Let me find a carriage for you.”
“No, no! I have a ride.” She was on the lower landing now, each step steadier than the last, and she turned quickly onto the next flight. “Good day!” Her words echoed in the stairwell as her auburn twists disappeared from view. The sophisticated young woman he’d met in Rocky’s cloakroom was nowhere in sight today. This was a girl looking for a place to hide.
The sound of her quick retreat drifted up to him and reassured Jess that she was not limping. But just for good measure, he loped back into his apartment and out onto the balcony. He needed to know she could get home on her own.
His eyes swept the sidewalk below him, watching for the stylish figure he knew he’d recognize going or coming. No one emerged from the door. In fact, there were no unaccompanied women anywhere. The usual Sunday strollers ambled along both sides of the boulevard, but Miss Magee was not among them. Had her carriage already pulled away?
Jess leaned slightly over the balustrade, concerned now that she’d not even left the building. He was just about to race downstairs to see if she’d collapsed somewhere between here and the front door when a female figure darted out of the alley.
Pushing a dilapidated old three-wheeler.
She wheeled it into the street, and, still standing on the higher boardwalk, sat herself prettily on the cycle’s broad leather saddle. A wayward curl on the back of her neck was the only sign of her recent tumble down the stairs.
Jess gripped the railing and watched her auburn head bob in and out of traffic, her long skirts floating
It, of course, was noticeably missing at the moment. Above their smouldering darkness, the auburn hair he’d imagined plunging his hands into had escaped its pins and hung in ragged tufts.
“You?”
“You!”
He marveled at the change to her face as anger fled and embarrassment pounced. The flush turned to a blush. She moved her hands to set about repairing her hair and revealed the full lips that had tantalized Jess when he’d first met her at the Warwick. They were paler now, and quivering. Adelaide. Her name was Adelaide.
“I just...tripped...I’m so sorry, I...” she winced.
“Are you all right?”
“Not really, but...”
“Where are you hurt?”
“I’ll be fine. Now if you’ll be so kind as to help me up...” Her voice was thick with threatening tears, and Jess took pity on her state as he helped her to her feet. Something more than tumbling into his arms had upset this woman. The altercation he’d overheard flooded his memory and he winced, perplexed at how or why the man had so adeptly angered her.
“I’d be ever so...grateful...if we could just pretend this never, oo–” she gasped as she tried to take a step, “–never happened.”
“Careful!” Jess moved closer and stretched an arm behind to steady her. “Take it slowly, Miss Magee.”
She stiffened as he tightened his grip, and Jess was slow to realize why she shrank from his touch. What was he supposed to do? Stand back and watch her struggle to her feet?
He moved his arm for a better grip around her slim waist and clamped a curtain over his thoughts as he grasped the meaning behind the very pleasant feel of her ribs beneath his hand. To say nothing of her soft bosom pressing into his side.
He could feel no stays, no wires, none of the usual rigid barriers a gentleman associated with a lady. Just pliant fabric between himself and Addie Magee.
Miss Magee, he’d discovered, wasn’t wearing a corset.
“I’m fine! Really!” She pulled away and slipped quickly down two steps and away from his grasp. “Thank you so much.”
“But...wait! Let me find a carriage for you.”
“No, no! I have a ride.” She was on the lower landing now, each step steadier than the last, and she turned quickly onto the next flight. “Good day!” Her words echoed in the stairwell as her auburn twists disappeared from view. The sophisticated young woman he’d met in Rocky’s cloakroom was nowhere in sight today. This was a girl looking for a place to hide.
The sound of her quick retreat drifted up to him and reassured Jess that she was not limping. But just for good measure, he loped back into his apartment and out onto the balcony. He needed to know she could get home on her own.
His eyes swept the sidewalk below him, watching for the stylish figure he knew he’d recognize going or coming. No one emerged from the door. In fact, there were no unaccompanied women anywhere. The usual Sunday strollers ambled along both sides of the boulevard, but Miss Magee was not among them. Had her carriage already pulled away?
Jess leaned slightly over the balustrade, concerned now that she’d not even left the building. He was just about to race downstairs to see if she’d collapsed somewhere between here and the front door when a female figure darted out of the alley.
Pushing a dilapidated old three-wheeler.
She wheeled it into the street, and, still standing on the higher boardwalk, sat herself prettily on the cycle’s broad leather saddle. A wayward curl on the back of her neck was the only sign of her recent tumble down the stairs.
Jess gripped the railing and watched her auburn head bob in and out of traffic, her long skirts floating
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