Free The Fighter and the Fallen Woman by Pamela Cayne Page A

men with barely hidden guns marking the entrance.
    The carriage stopped and King got out and stood by the door, acting as a guard. Lady stepped out next and as he helped her, she told herself she didn’t notice the warmth pouring through her glove or the way she felt held, and not grabbed. She especially didn’t feel the way he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Looking straight ahead, she stepped up and put him behind her so as soon as Mr. Adams got out, she could take her customary place on his left. Arm in arm, they entered the warehouse with King following.
    As soon as they entered the fighting area, Mr. Adams led them on a slow circuit of the crowd, visiting, boasting and betting. When they came back full circle, Mr. Collins and Jonathan were standing in the crowd, watching them approach.
    “Sebastian.” Mr. Adams thrust out his hand for the American to shake. “Why are you here? This is only the second half of round one. Your man fought last night and is set for round two on Friday.”
    “Mr. Adams, so good to see you.” Mr. Collins returned the handshake. He turned to Lady and bowed at the waist, but made no motion to touch her. “And, Lady, always a pleasure.
    “I wanted to come watch the other contestants. As the tournament progresses, it is such a sport to bet on the consolation fights—the best of the worst, as it were,” Mr. Collins said and laughed. “And I find it helps to get the full measure of Jonathan’s competition. For instance, he may face your man next week.”
    “But King isn’t in the same bracket.” The words tumbled from her mouth before she knew what she was saying.
    “Oh-ho, my pet likes all kinds of sporting, doesn’t she?” Mr. Adams gave her a curious look. She couldn’t tell if her outburst pleased or angered him, so she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, lingering to nuzzle his ear with her nose.
    “I won’t waste my time telling you again how lucky you are, Mr. Adams.” Mr. Collins motioned at Lady. “However, I was talking about your man, Shade, there. I believe if he wins tonight, he’ll be fighting in Jonathan’s bracket on Friday.”
    Lady was able to control her tongue that time, but she couldn’t help jerking her head over to look where Mr. Collins was pointing. Wearing loose black pants, black boots and nothing else, Shade was shadow boxing away from the other fighters. She glanced over her shoulder and saw King watching him.
    “And you should lay some money on him.” Mr. Adams waved an unlit cigar at the American. “He’ll win, I guarantee. There’s something about him that’s like a wild dog. He doesn’t know how to lose.” Mr. Adams sounded satisfied, and she knew there was part of him that enjoyed and admired Shade like a man would a fine hunting dog.
    “Another fine dog to train. And it’s a good thing you hold his leash,” Mr. Collins finished and both men laughed.
    “Speaking of that, I need to speak to him before his match. If you’ll excuse me.” Mr. Adams led Lady and King several feet away before stopping. “Watch her,” he ordered, looking at King but pointing at Lady, and then he walked away.
    Lady was startled at how Mr. Adams left her, even if it was with King. Usually he brought her with him, a forgotten appendage occasionally used for show. She didn’t know if it was the tournament, Mr. Collins or something else entirely, but something was getting Mr. Adams more bound up than usual. Lady felt especially skittish with King so close, but the best thing she could do was to act like nothing was out of the ordinary.
    She positioned herself so she could see Mr. Collins and Jonathan to her right and Mr. Adams talking to Shade on her left. It left the most dangerous man behind her, but he was probably the least likely to hurt her—least likely for tonight, at least.
    “Are you going to place a bet on Shade?” King asked in a low voice.
    Lady looked over her shoulder and saw him standing one step behind her and one step to her