A young woman, brimming with caged sexual desire, finds herself in the midst of a mysterious drifter. While she makes ever effort to push away the magnetism between the two of them, she is unable to control the overwhelming feelings that have taken hold when they are alone in the kitchen after the pub has closed. Will she be able to follow her head and cast this dangerous man aside, or will she lose herself as she becomes the new object of his obsession?
Sara took a seat on a crate on the back side of the pub, lifting the layers of her once light blue skirt, now brown from wear and dirt. The laces of her boots had become loose and as she began to tighten them, she allowed her fingers to lightly dance on the skin of her calf, gliding them down from her knee to her ankle. It had been a number of years since she’d felt the touch of a man, and the pains were beginning to take their toll.
As she finished lacing her boots, she heard footsteps behind her. Figuring it was Beth coming to tell her it was time to throw Scully and his buddy out on their ears, she turned with a heavy sigh. As her eyes met the owner of the footsteps, she gasped. A very tall, very muscular man, looking more like a castaway captain in a white linen shirt and silken tweed frock coat, stood before her. His eyes, as if made of steel, pierced through the dark of the back alley. It looked as if it had been a few weeks since he had received a shave, and his jet-black hair almost seemed dark blue in the moonlight.
“Pardon me, madam, my intention was not to startle you.” His voice was hot velvet, sending a small chill from the nape of Sara’s neck down her back and through her body.
“Then what exactly was your intention?” Her voice did not waver, leaving no indication of the effect this stranger was having on her.
“My intention was to locate the owner, which it looks like I have—unless I’m mistaken?”
“Who sent you, and why are you asking?” Her guard was up. With drifters aplenty and nearly everyone ready to steal from everyone else on this godforsaken island, information was not given freely or without a clear understanding of the motive.
“I do not mean offense, miss. I’m only passing through and was told there might be a room here. I can pay handsomely.” His features softened and the sincerity in his voice took her off guard.
“There is a room, yes, just above the pub. Cost is three shillings a night and I expect the room to be kept well. Damages are paid in blood with me.” Her tones were fierce and authoritative. Her father had taught her well how to be intimidating under the most intense circumstances. Never back down…never show fear…never flounder…and always keep a blade on your hip. She strictly followed all pieces of advice.
“I have no doubt. The room will be kept as you ask. This should cover two nights.” He pulled from an inside pocket of his jacket a leather pouch and handed Sara six large coins. She held out her hand and began walking farther around the building to a set of stairs leading to the second story of the arched pub. She pulled a set of iron keys from the pocket of her dingy white apron and searched for the appropriate key. The stranger stood close to her, smelling strongly of salt and sand, which was a pleasant change from sweat and rum.
“What is your name, miss, if you don’t mind my asking?”
The soft tones startled her again, she having not heard such pleasant vocals in a long time. Sara opened the door to a thin, wooden hallway with two doors, one close on the left, the other far on the right. “Sara Le’Bow.” She stepped inside and began walking toward the door on the far right. “And you are?”
“I’ve gone by many names. None of which I have cared for. My given name is William.”
“Well, William, this will be your room.” Sara felt a need to get through this as quickly as possible. She wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. The magnetism of this stranger was so strong as to clamor in her head as loud as a bell, warning her to run and hide. “I haven’t had time to make the bed, but blankets are there. I’ll be back in the morning to fill the basin. If you’re hungry, there is food in the pub. You may eat what you like while you’re a guest, except the cakes. Those are for the bake shop up the road.” As she spoke, she lit a large candle near the bed and walked back to the door.
As she turned to leave, she felt a strong, gentle hand on hers, tugging her back. “Thank you for your hospitality, Miss Le’Bow. I’m very grateful.” William pulled her hand to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss before softly releasing her. Sara’s insides felt as if they had been set on fire, and an urge like no other began to pulse through her.
