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Prohibited!
Delancey Stewart
Darkest secrets of the Bright Young Things…In 1920s New York, uptown debutante Evie McKenzie can see that the world is changing. And while her parents may think she’s destined for a life of quiet conversation and polite society, she is determined to roar with the twenties - whatever the cost!Evie knows she should really be getting her beauty sleep and dreaming of Roger White, the straight-laced Yale graduate her parents have chosen for her. Instead, she’s been heading out to the local speakeasy…and into the arms of dangerously charming Jack Taylor.But when Evie discovers an unexpectedly wild side to Roger, he’s suddenly competition for smooth-talking Jack – and she has a decision to make. Should she appease her parents…or commit the ultimate rebellion? One thing’s for certain: Evie is going to have a lot of fun making up her mind…
The Roaring Twenties
In 1920s New York, uptown debutante Evie McKenzie can sense things are changing. She’s planning on going to college – being independent! But her parents are stuck in the old days, lining up a parade of respectable suitors, even though she’s just eighteen.
If he knew what she did at night, while she’s supposed to be getting her beauty sleep, her daddy would have a fit! His good little girl has been heading out to the local speakeasy Maison – and into the arms of dangerously charming bar owner Jack Taylor.
Evie believes her heart belongs to Jack, even though sometimes he seems a little cold. But then Yale- graduate Roger White, her parents’ choice, turns out to be a lot less strait-laced than she’d first assumed. Does this mean Roger is the right man for her? Or has Evie got a whole lot more living to do before she makes up her mind?
Prohibited!
Delancey Stewart
Copyright (#ulink_9ac18d5a-a395-51c8-8d42-588c4d23d22a)
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2015
Copyright © Delancey Stewart 2015
Delancey Stewart asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © June 2015 ISBN: 9781472094704
Version date: 2018-07-23
Contents
Cover (#u1cc614c4-82df-5022-8576-fcad4493e0e4)
Blurb (#uff034324-0d7b-56ca-8ab3-41fea910921d)
Title Page (#u27b9763d-86f3-5ca5-ba52-0a6bd5d1b81f)
Copyright (#uff9bd9e4-fbad-5f41-9912-aa6650517fe7)
Author Bio (#ub5fbc3ec-8edf-5417-bc67-29f47497a15a)
Dedication (#u0a94db50-27c9-5784-8eab-488cd9eab652)
Chapter One (#ulink_1be0a430-8dc3-518b-984f-c5bb4bed0b66)
Chapter Two (#ulink_a7ed6d4a-4a6c-5195-a87f-f033ad4d1c27)
Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
DELANCEY STEWART
writes contemporary romance and romantic comedy.
Stewart has lived on both coasts of the United States, in big cities and small towns. She’s been a pharmaceutical rep, a fitness trainer and a direct sales representative for a wine importer, but she has always been a writer first.
A military spouse and the mother of two small boys, her current job titles include pirate captain, monster hunter, Lego assembler, homework helper, and story reader. She tackles all these efforts at her current home outside Washington D.C.
Find her at www.delanceystewart.com (http://www.delanceystewart.com)
This book is dedicated to New York City and all of its inhabitants, past, present, and future. NYC is my favorite place in the world (so far) and I will never get tired of exploring its magic.
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_e227264f-5116-548a-a10d-00d80d2c4444)
Evelyn McKenzie didn’t mind the frigid air that blew up under her skirt as much as the possibility that old Buck’s eyes were seeing something they shouldn’t. Of course, that was the risk you ran when you decided to climb out of a second story window and down a ladder in your finest.
“Buck, I hope you haven’t got those cheaters aimed this way,” she called down as she gripped the ladder rung and started down. “Daddy would have a fit if he knew you’d seen me in a compromising way.”
“Miss, your daddy’d have a fit for lotsa things right now,” Buck said, helping Evelyn down the last few rungs and pulling her soft fur coat close under her chin. “The first might be that rouge you’ve got on your lips or the length of your dress. The last would be that old Buck is helping his one and only daughter sneak out to a gin mill in the middle of the night.” Buck shook his head as he helped Evelyn toward the car.
It was easy enough to ignore Buck’s stern tone. He’d agreed to help her, after all, and that was all that mattered in the end. Evelyn settled into the back seat of the car and squinted into a tiny mirror, touching up her lipstick while Buck got it started. She’d made him park all the way down 70th Street, so the racket from the car starting up wouldn’t wake her parents.
“You ready, Miss Evie?”
It was with only a shred of guilt that Evelyn nodded her head enthusiastically and watched Buck slide behind the wheel, his thick coat pulled tight around him against the chill November night. Buck wasn’t a young man, after all. But he’d always had a soft spot for Evie, and she knew that the old man would do anything for her—with the right type of persuasion, at least, and a flask full of that would be in his hands as soon as they got to the club.
Buck had been with the McKenzie family since Evelyn was born. He’d started as a butler, and as cars had come into fashion, he’d become the family driver. In reality, he was much more like an uncle to Evelyn, who had no brothers or sisters. Buck had been protector, friend, and playmate to the poor little rich girl as she’d grown up in the elaborate life her parents had constructed for her.
They crossed town quickly—there was little traffic at this hour—and Buck guided the car up behind a row of others parked along 53rd Street. Evelyn waited for Buck to open the door and help her down, and then skipped away from him toward a group of men gathered on the sidewalk.
“Be right back, Buckie!” she called.
He followed, just a few steps behind her.
“Gents,” Evelyn called to the men lingering outside a descending stairway. “Jack around?”
“Sure he is, Miss Evie,” one of the men said, tipping his hat and bowing slightly. “You go right on in.”
Evelyn knew that Buck was behind her, just as surely as she knew that as soon as she was out of his sight, he’d climb into the back of the car to wait for her to return, pulling his collar up against the frigid fingers of wind dancing tiny circles along New York’s sidewalks. And she knew both of those things as surely as she knew that Buck wouldn’t judge her for pretending—even for one night—that her life wasn’t preordained.
Stepping through the door at Maison was like walking into another world, and it was easy to forget all about her driver, her daddy, and pretty much anything else an uptown debutante should be keeping in her mind at midnight in New York City. None of it mattered once Evelyn had shed her coat and set eyes on Jack Taylor.
Jack Taylor was a beautiful specimen of a man. He was tall, but not lanky and thin. His dark hair waved perfectly from the part in the center and made the bright blue eyes sparkle under dark brows. Evelyn sat on a tall stool near the bar and watched him across the dance floor talking with the bandleader. She took in the perfectly pressed jacket and trousers, which hung on his body the way tinsel dressed a Christmas tree—as an accessory—and had the same thought she always did when she saw him. Here was a man who was perfect and complete unto himself. Anything he added to that package—from a hat to his patent shoes—was unnecessary. But the clothes did quite a bit to complete the picture, Evelyn thought, as memories of their first meeting began to play through her mind.
She’d come in the small hours, just as she had tonight. Her girlfriends Tug and Jane had gotten out, too, and it’d been their first time coming to Maison—or to any speakeasy. Jane, especially, was not the kind of girl to go against her parents’ wishes, and it had taken a lot of work to get her there. But Tug had been talking about visiting the clubs all year, ever since bumping into Texas Guinan in the ladies’ room at the Plaza. She had been enamored and decided that she needed to get out more, to expand her horizons.
“Women can do anything now, just look at Miss Guinan. She’s one of the most successful entrepreneurs in the city!”
Jack Taylor had overheard Tug’s excited banter about how easy it would be to run a speak, and had stood at the bar next to the small group of girls, a smile on his thin lips.
“I’m sure it’s really just about personality,” Tug said. “That’s what Miss Guinan said. She told me that it was about creating a dream—giving people what they want. What they know they aren’t supposed to have.”
“It’s called a fantasy,” Jack said, leaning in slightly with a wry smile. He exhaled then, still not looking at the girls, and a stream of smoke shot from his lips and lingered in front of them over the bar. “Excuse me, girls. I couldn’t help but overhear. Jack Taylor.” He turned to them then and took each girl in with an appraising up and down stare. His eyes came to rest on Evelyn and didn’t stray again. “Welcome to Maison. I’m the owner here.”
He’d bought them a round and explained that running a speak was about much more than personality, and that Texas Guinan—for all her bluster—was an excellent businesswoman. “She knows who to bribe and who to coddle,” he said. “In this town, this business is politics, pure and simple.”
Evie had watched him as he talked, her body igniting under the steady gaze of the handsome proprietor. Though he spoke to all three of them, his attention was fully on her and she’d never felt as exposed. The man before her, Jack Taylor, was the most handsome man she’d ever seen, and the way he looked at her made her feel as if his hands were already upon her. The icy blue eyes watched her, and with every second that passed, she ached for his touch. Being near Jack almost made her forget that she was practically promised to another.
After a time, he made an excuse to get away, and within minutes he had reappeared at Evie’s side.
“Would you like to see the rest of the club?” he asked, his breath hot on her neck as he spoke in a low voice in her ear.
“I shouldn’t leave the girls,” she said. Shock mingled with the intense heat that his nearness brought. She hadn’t been raised to be the kind of girl who would disappear with a man unaccompanied. But she hadn’t been raised to sneak out after midnight to visit illicit nightclubs, either.
“They’ll be fine. Toby, another drink for the ladies?” The ruddy-faced bartender jumped when his boss said jump, and drinks appeared in front of Janie and Tug within seconds. “I’ll bring your friend back in just a moment,” Jack assured them.
The girls’ eyebrows went up in question, and Evie smiled in response. “It’s okay, girls,” she said, taking Jack’s arm. His sleeve was cool and smooth under her fingers, but a heat emanated from beneath the clothing, from the entirety of the big man who was now close at her side. And under the fabric, she could feel the solidity and strength of that arm. The thought of his nearness caused a deep pull inside Evelyn, which had her blushing furiously, as Jack put his hand over hers, guiding her around the end of the bar and through a curtain into a back room. He opened one more door and led her into a small office, where a low couch sat against one wall.
“This is the heart of the operation,” he said in a low amused voice. The blue eyes were still on her, watching every breath she took.
“And you run the whole place yourself?” she asked. She wanted to come up with clever things to say, to show him her intelligence and pep. But words were not at the forefront of her mind with his face so near to her exposed shoulder.
As if reading her mind, Jack ran a finger over the skin on her shoulder and then let the finger trace the line of her dress strap. “I do run it myself, yes. It can be a…lonely operation at times.”
She’d shuddered involuntarily at the combination of his touch and the thought of him needing comfort.
“You’re beautiful, you know,” he said. “I hope you’ll come visit us again soon.” He’d put his lips on her then, gently dragging them along the path his finger had traced, letting them glance over her skin, soft as a feather but accompanied by his hot breath.
Evie had felt like she might burst as tension coiled inside her, begging for some kind of release.
“I’d better return you to your friends, Miss…?”
“Evelyn. Evie.”
“I’m Jack.” He leaned in and let those perfect lips graze her own, lightly. It wasn’t a kiss—not really—more of a promise. Or a claim.
Jack returned Evie to her stool next to her friends who stared openly, mouths agape.
“Are you all right?” Jane asked, placing a hand on Evie’s forehead. “You’re awfully flushed.”
“I’m fine,” Evie breathed, swallowing the rest of her drink in one long swallow.
She had said she was fine, but she worried that Jack had ignited something within her that might never stop burning. And at that moment, she had felt willing to do almost anything to feed that hungry fire simmering in her belly.
Toby broke Evie’s recollection of her first night with Jack with an eager smile. “Evenin’, Miss Evie!”
She smiled back and then slid her flask across the polished bar top to him. “For my driver please, Toby,” she said.
“Sure thing.” He filled the flask and handed it back across to her. “You are looking particularly lovely tonight. Jack Taylor is a lucky man.”
She smiled. “I’ll be right back.” She ran back up to the top of the stairs, where Buck waited in the small crowd of men, beating his hands against his legs for warmth.
“Here you go, Buck.” She handed him the flask. “I won’t be long. Don’t get into trouble now.”
“That goes for you, too, Miss.” He dropped the flask into his coat pocket and she felt him watch her go back inside.
Jack had moved from the band platform while Evie had been outside, and a ridiculous anxiety at not seeing him made her jumpy as she returned to the bar. Toby had put a drink in front of her spot and gave her a wink as she wrapped her fingers around the cool glass. She swiveled her head, searching the small dance floor, the tables set around it. Where had Jack gone?
“Hello, gorgeous,” came a low voice behind her, hot breath on the back of her neck. Jack had a way of slinking around and appearing from nowhere. Evelyn supposed that was a useful skill for one running an illegal business. She’d been seeing him just over a month and still hadn’t gotten used to his sudden appearances at her side.
She tried to turn to face him, hungry for the bright blue eyes, wanting to feel them upon her, but his strong hands were on her upper arms, keeping her facing away from him. His lips landed on her neck, just along the knob of her spine, and she gasped at the sensation as his tongue grazed her skin. After another moment of exquisite torture, he released her and she turned.
“Jack,” she breathed.
“Darling.” He embraced her then, kissing both cheeks and smiling down at her. “I’m so glad you came tonight. It was beginning to be lonely here.”
Evelyn looked around. The eyes of several well-dressed women were on Jack, and she had a feeling that this man was rarely lonely unless it was by choice. “Well, I can’t stay too long,” she said. “But I did want to see you.”
“Wonderful,” Jack said. “Let’s find a more intimate space to talk.” A drink appeared in front of him, and he picked it up as he guided Evelyn to a low table in the corner. The lighting was dim and the sound of the band playing required the table’s occupants to sit close, heads together, in order to talk. It was perfect.
“Is your father still foisting suitors on you, darling?” Jack asked as they settled.
“I don’t want to talk about them,” she said. Since she’d debuted last year, her father had been single-mindedly dragging every marriageable man in Manhattan to the townhouse for Evelyn to meet. She’d never tell Jack that he’d finally settled on one and was pushing Roger White upon her with all the subtlety of an avalanche. “I’m so tired of taking tea and ear loads of baloney from my father’s favorite bachelors.”
“That’s no fun, is it?” Jack was smiling, but his voice was dark, laden with something deeper.
