The Devil of Whiskey Row by Renee Rose

Author:Renee Rose [Rose, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Published: 2013-03-19T04:00:00+00:00

* * *

He realized at once he'd given a horrible offense.

“No,” he said quickly. “No, I'm not. No money in the world could pay for that, Cora,” he assured her, watching her face soften as his words sunk in. He held both her shoulders, looking down into her beautiful, upturned face. “What we shared—that's never happened before. Not for me, anyway. And… there are no words I can find to… to thank you for giving yourself to me that way.”

She lifted a trembling hand to stroke back the lock of hair that had fallen in his eyes. He caught her wrist and brought the little hand to his lips, kissing each of her fingers. Her eyes filled with tears and he drew her close. “Why are you crying?” he asked, a lump in his throat making him sound gruffer than he intended.

She blinked rapidly. “I'm not,” she said, shaking her head.

“Tell me,” he insisted.

“No.”

He bent his head toward hers and kissed the top of it.

“Jake?”

“Aye.”

“Who is it you said I reminded you of?”

He released her, taking a step back.

“What?”

“My first night here. You said I reminded you of someone you once knew.”

He shook his head, taking another step back, feeling dizzy.

“Who is it?”

“Eliza.” His voice cracked on the name of the woman whose ghost had tormented his thoughts for fifteen long years.

“Is that why… is that why you picked me?”

Anger flared, making him clench his fists, though there was no rational cause for it.

“No—I didn't pick you. I didn't pick you at all. It was just something that happened. It's something we both should forget.”

“I see,” she said, her expression turning cold.

He knew he had hurt her, but couldn't make himself stop. Better to end this thing now, once and for all. He pulled the ten dollar bill out of his pocket again and tossed it on the bed. “It's not payment. It's not anything. Take it if you want it. I don't really care,” he said and strode from the room, slamming the door behind him.

He went downstairs and threw back three shots of whiskey before sitting at his piano to lose himself.

Cora came down during his first song, dressed to work. She didn't look at him as she passed, sashaying into the gambling hall with the air of royalty greeting her people. And if the drunken gamblers were her people, they certainly paid attention. Every eye followed the beautiful blonde and several men held up dollars to wave her over to sit with them.

She joined a man at his table, accepted a drink, and waved a black fan, watching the bets with feigned interest. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, letting his fingers dance over the keys to help him slip away from the stink hole that had become his life.

“She's settling in nicely, isn't she?” Olive's chipper voice pulled him out of his reverie. She was leaning on his piano, her lifted breasts spilling out of her corset.

He scowled and didn't answer.

“Something going on between you two?”

“No,” he growled.

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