She hadn’t dressed for walking. She’d chosen a Worth silk day dress with a close-fitted jacket and full skirt. The fabric of the jacket was particularly exquisite—rich blue and gold in a pattern that reminded her of dragon scales, over a jade green skirt. She’d told herself at the time she wasn’t dressing for Sam—after all, he preferred her in red—but of course the look of admiration he’d given her that morning in the hotel lobby had called her bluff. It was a rather flattering dress, but silk was far too delicate a fabric to be walking out on the dirty Manhattan streets and far too thin to be outside in the cold in, even under her coat. The sensible choice would be to return to the hotel by cab, after which they would go to their separate rooms and the evening would be over.…

“Walk,” Alva said, even as she berated herself. He was becoming a drug to her—he brought light, even to her darkest moments. She craved this light, despite how dangerous it would be to depend on it. But the choice had already been made, and he’d taken her arm, the solid length of his body pressed to her side, and once more she allowed her rational side to be overruled.

Two blocks later and they were in yet another part of the city she didn’t recognize. She let herself gawk, like a country mouse just off the train. In a way she was, she thought, smiling to herself. This city was new to her. For her whole life New York had been in a frantic state of creation and re-creation, and even putting aside the narrowness of her childhood world, twelve years was a long time to be away.

It was the beginning of the end of the day, and men were walking home to their families, and couples were walking arm in arm towards their evening plans. She luxuriated in the warmth of Sam’s body next to hers and imagined she was one of those women, walking next to her sweetheart, marveling at this wonderful, terrible, ambitious city.

“Alva?” Sam’s voice had a chuckle in it, and she realized it wasn’t the first time he’d spoken.

“I beg your pardon,” she said. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Out with the fairies, that’s what my grandmother would say.”

She smiled. “Fairies of iron and steel, then. I was thinking how much the city has changed, since I’ve been away. I suppose I’ve been making us look like easy marks.” She ran her eyes up and down his tall, solid body. “Or maybe not so easy.”

Sam’s expression was pure masculine satisfaction. “I can take off this coat if it would help you ogle me better.”