Tempted by Molly O'Keefe Read Free Book Online Page B

This...curious?”
    Before he could even think, Steven took one gliding step toward Madison—but stopped. Reined himself in.
    “The idea of Anne marrying me is clearly loathsome to you,” Madison said.
    “You are not fit to touch her.”
    “On that we can agree,” Madison said. “But the question is, what is a man who clearly can't abide being touched going to do about it?”
     
    Steven spent the day at the train station site. He shrugged off his jacket and grabbed a shovel and worked alongside the laborers. He worked until his fine shirt was wet with sweat. Until not even the leather of his gloves could protect his hands from blisters. He worked until the kerosene in his blood was gone and the urge to hit Dr. Madison had faded.
    But there was no amount of work that could clear his mind. All day he thought. And all day he thought about Annie.
    Anne.
    Considering marriage to that doctor to satisfy her curiosity. That doctor who could not hide his addiction. Who jeopardized Anne with his disregard. His baseness. The doctor who was not fit to even look at Anne, to be in the same room as her brightly shining light.
    And
knew
it.
    Madison would touch her, should they be married. He would touch her.
    And what will you do about it?
    What can I do about it? I can keep her safe. I can be her friend. But that curiosity of hers...
    The doctor would put her at risk. Use her fierce nature for his own selfish needs. And you would let that stand because you are afraid to be touched. Afraid to risk trying?
    I’ve tried!
    Years ago. Is this really how you want to spend the rest of your life?
    The memories of his failures in that regard. The whores he’d hired. The nights he’d tried to drown himself in drink—they were sharp. And clear.
    A fine warning.
    The sun set and the sweat on his body turned cold, but still he worked.
    “Hey,” Jim, the laborer Steven had worked beside, a Negro who towered over everyone, shouted at him. “We all going home.”
    Steven glanced around at all the men with their coats on, steam rising off their bare heads from the work and the cold air.
    “You all right?” Jim asked, his teeth white in the dusk.
    “Fine.”
    “Never seen a man work so hard who don't have to.”
    “Who says I don't?” Steven asked.
    “Those fine clothes you ruined.”
    Steven looked down at himself, sweaty and covered in filth. So goddamned dirty.
    The men walked off, slapping each other on the back, talking about dinner and wives. Kids. All the other workers were leaving for the day.
    Steven finally had to surrender his work to the darkness. He collected his coat and his vest, then returned the carriage he'd rented to the livery and walked down 6th Street to the hotel. Despite his hunger, he ignored the smell of soda bread from the kitchen.
    He was too filthy to eat, so he climbed the wide steps leading up to the fourth floor and unlocked his door.
    It was the nicest room in the hotel. A corner room, with plenty of windows and a view of the street below. There was a wide four-poster bed with fine linens. He pulled the rope for hot water, and within moments there was a boy at his door with a basin of steaming water.
    Amazing.
    Amazing what all his money could buy.
    After tipping the boy and closing the door after him he stripped off all his damp and dirty clothes and splashed water over his body, getting rid of the sweat and the grime. He soaped up his hands and ran them under his armpits, down his chest and over his groin.
    And then over his groin again. And then his mind split, and as if pretending he didn’t know what he was doing, he did it again.
    To see if he could.
    To see if it worked.
    By the fifth stroke, he was firm in his hand. Not hard. But… firm.
    Soap, warm water—he remembered being fifteen and discovering this sensation. This slick heat. The pressure of his hand. The memory of Daniella Whittaker’s smile over her shoulder at him, from the front pew at church.
    It had been three years since the