The Prince of Broadway

by Joanna Shupe

  This was one of the things she loved about her grandmother, the ability to see things from all sides. A quality Florence wished that her father possessed. “I believe he’ll come around.”

  Granny chuckled. “I wouldn’t bet on that, pun intended.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to have a place to go where you and your friends could play roulette or craps? That’s all I am attempting to do. Why should men have all the fun?”

  “Indeed, I have long said the same. Yet, our world remains conservative, despite the protests happening downtown. Are you not worried about the police or City Hall shutting you down?”

  Florence thought of Clay and Big Bill. The mayor’s chamberlain. “There are ways around that.”

  “I sense there’s nothing I can say to dissuade you.” Granny refilled her teacup and added sugar before stirring. “So are you interested in my blessing?”

  Florence exhaled slowly. Here we go. “I am hoping you will come on as an investor.”

  Her grandmother had the most unexpected reaction: she burst out laughing. Florence tried not to fidget while she waited. Had this been the wrong approach? She’d never asked anyone for money like this before. Perhaps she should have written her plan on paper, given her grandmother some concrete figures on the amount required.

  “Oh, you are too much, Florence. I hadn’t expected you to ask for my help.”

  Florence’s stomach plummeted. Her future loomed like a dark hole of living at home, attending the same society parties and balls with the same people at the same time of year. Same, same, same. How would she survive it?

  No, you will find a way. Even if Granny refuses, you will find a way.

  “That’s fine, Granny. I understand. This is a lot to ask—”

  “I never said no. You merely caught me by surprise. When are you thinking of carrying through with this plan?”

  “Daddy is anxious for Mamie to marry, so once she is settled he will undoubtedly turn his attention to me. I have a short amount of time, perhaps a year. Maybe more.”

  “Let me think on it, then. I am neither agreeing nor am I refusing. But this does deserve more careful consideration.”

  “Oh, I have. Given it careful consideration, I mean.”

  “Yes, but I have not. So allow me to sit with my thoughts and I shall give you an answer soon.” She edged forward on the sofa to retrieve the papers on the table. “Do me a favor, will you? Give these papers to your father.”

  Florence accepted the stack. “Of course. Are they about the building development?”

  “I couldn’t say. I haven’t opened any of the letters sent here in the past few months that appeared remotely related to this building development. That is everything I have, so let your father sort through it. Perhaps he’ll find something useful.”

  “All right, I will. I shall keep my fingers crossed.”

  “Me, too. I want to see my great-grandchildren raised in this house.” Granny gave her a pointed glance. “Even if their mother runs a casino.”

  “I know you do. Though I don’t think any of the neighbors will invite me over for tea.” They both knew society would turn its back on her if she followed through on her dream.

  “Good thing there are no neighbors left, then.”

  The grim reminder caused Florence to wince over her previous choice of words. “I’m sorry.”

  “No apologies necessary. We mustn’t hide from the truth. Now, run along. I’ve got ten ladies coming in a few minutes to discuss the guest list for the ball.”

  Florence rose and went over to kiss her grandmother’s cheek. “Thank you for hearing me out. Take heart. If you do sell the house then you may always move in with us up the street.”

  “Me, live with your father? I love him dearly, but no thank you.”

  Some days, Florence felt the same way.

  Clay stared at the blond head angled over the ledgers spread over his desk. He then considered other things he might soon spread over his desk, and his body reacted swiftly. Heart pumping, blood racing. His palms itched to feel her soft skin and make her moan. Florence had arrived only an hour ago and he was already thoroughly distracted with the want of her.

  You’re acting like a fool over this woman.

  True, but it was a state he had no control over in her presence. He liked everything about Florence, from her angelic looks and heart-stopping smile to her quick wit and sharp mind. She was passionate and fearless in bed. He held nothing back from her—a first for him. With others, he’d been afraid of scaring his partners, of being too demanding. Florence made him burn, so hot that he lost himself in the moment. And she didn’t seem to mind. Quite the opposite, in fact.

  So would she hate him when she learned of what he’d done?

  She couldn’t blame him, could she? After all, he’d warned her. Jack had begged him to call off the plans for the Seventy-Ninth Street casino, but Clay would not be deterred. His revenge against Duncan was twenty years in the making. A few blissful weeks in bed with Duncan’s daughter could not change that.

  He wouldn’t allow it.

  Besides, nothing good lasted long, especially something this good. All he could do was bide his time and enjoy each second with her. Wring every sigh and moan out of her body until it came crashing down and she despised him. To that end, he glanced at the clock. Soon. He would have her in bed, naked, very, very soon.

  Christ, he could hardly wait.

  “Have you found the error?” he asked, ready to move tonight’s lesson along.

  “I think so.” She lifted her head and blinked at him. As it nearly always did, her beauty struck him like a blow to the chest. Perfect features, slashing brows, full lips. He could stare at her for hours and never tire of it.

  “Show me.” He leaned over to see her work. He’d presented her with a recent problem in one of his poolrooms downtown. A puzzle he wished to see if she could solve.

  She pointed at her notes. “This one location consistently has a lower revenue on Tuesday night races, when the other locations have a higher revenue that night. Tuesday is one of Sheepshead Bay’s most popular days. Therefore, what is happening in this one location that no one is betting on Tuesdays?”

  This woman. Damn, she was exceptional.

  “You’re right. So where do we begin to investigate the problem?”

  “I assume they call the Tuesday night races in this poolroom.”

  “They do.”

  “The patrons could have a reason to avoid betting on races from that track, I suppose.”

  “Perhaps, but not over a long period of time. The crowd varies too much for that. What else?”

  “Someone is skimming.”

  His mouth hitched in satisfaction. “All right. Who?”

  “The owner?”

  “Unlikely. He has the most to lose, if discovered. He knows me well enough to understand what happens if he’s caught. Let’s assume it’s not him.” Clay already knew the answer but he wanted to see if Florence could get there on her own.

  “One of the workers, then. A banker.”

  “How do we prove it?”

  She chewed her bottom lip in the way that drove him mad. “Look at who was working that night.”

  “Yes, we could do that but we might not be able to clearly isolate the problem by just studying their shifts.”

  “You could move the suspected skimmer to another night of the week, see if the revenue dips that night, as well.”

  Fuck, he absolutely adored her.

  “Very, very good.”

  She beamed at him, happiness shining in those gorgeous eyes of hers. Everything inside him tightened in anticipation. He needed to get his hands on her.

  “This was fun,” she said.

  “Stand up.”

  Her head cocked as she studied him. “Why?”

  “Because I want your mouth on mine right now.” He started around to the other side of the desk.

  She tracked his approach through her lashes, her tongue darting out
to lick her lips. “What of our lessons?”

  “I have a different lesson in mind right now.”

  “Oh?”

  Now in front of the chair, he pulled her to her feet. His fingers wrapped around her waist and dragged her closer. “This lesson has to do with my desk and your pleasure.”

  Laughing, she put a hand on his chest to stop him. “As much as I love that lesson, wait a moment. Let’s not get distracted this early in the night.”

  “Why not?”

  “I won’t be here tomorrow so I need to soak in all the information I can this evening.”

  That news shouldn’t affect him, as he’d seen her every night for the past week. Yet, he felt his chest tighten in disappointment. He was already dreading the long evening without her. “Plans?”

  “Do not frown at me.” She leaned up to nip at his jaw. “Tomorrow is my birthday and I am going to dinner with my family.”

  “Your birthday?”

  “Yes. I am turning twenty-two.”

  He winced. Just a mere babe compared to his thirty-one. You are too old for her. He ignored that voice in the back of his head. There were many reasons why he was wrong for her, and age was near the bottom of the list.

  Releasing her, he returned to his seat across from the desk. “Then we’d best make the most of tonight.”

  “Are you annoyed I won’t be here tomorrow?” She remained standing, watching him curiously.

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then what is it? Your mood went topsy-turvy on me.”

  She was too perceptive sometimes. “Nothing,” he said.

  “Liar. Is it about my birthday?” She approached, her skirts rustling as she moved, lips curved into a secret smile. “My family? Or is it about my age?”

  Yes, too perceptive. “I often forget how much older I am than you.”

  She came in front of his chair and moved in between his knees. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she leaned down and gave him a spectacular view of the tops of her breasts. “You forget,” she whispered in his ear, “because it doesn’t really matter. Thirty-one isn’t so old.”

  He caressed her waist, his hands smoothing the expensive silk covering her body. “Yes, but twenty-one is so young.”

  “Twenty-two tomorrow, and why are you focused on my age?” She dragged her teeth over his earlobe and he shivered. “Is this about corrupting me again?”

  Yanking her forward, he brought her onto his lap. He slid a palm around her neck to cup the back of her head. “No.”

  It was about his wanting to keep her and knowing he couldn’t.

  He pressed a soft kiss on her mouth, pleased when she relaxed into him and kissed him back. He loved the way she kissed, with her entire being dedicated to the task. She didn’t hold herself in check, playing prey to his hunter. No, she attacked and demanded. She met him as an equal. He never tired of it.

  After a quick knock, the door opened. Clay tore his mouth from Florence’s and glanced over to see Jack rushing in, the big man’s eyes wide with panic. His friend exhaled at seeing Clay and Florence. “Oh, thank Christ,” Jack breathed and bent at the waist to collect himself.

  Clay set Florence on her feet and rose. “What is the matter? Has something happened?”

  “Someone may’ve snuck into the building,” Jack said. “I had Kid Johnny on the back door. They just found him knocked out cold, door wide open.”

  Clay’s entire body froze, fear sinking into his bones. If someone was here to hurt him . . . He couldn’t allow Florence anywhere near this place. Her safety was the only thing that mattered. “Come with me,” he told her.

  “Wait, where are you going?” Jack asked.

  “I’ll see her off in a hansom then join you in searching each room.”

  Delicate fingers wrapped around his forearm. “Clay, you shouldn’t do that. If there’s danger then let the other men look for an intruder.”

  He shook his head as he pried her fingers off his arm. Then he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I’ll be fine. I know all the best hiding places.”

  “Let me help you,” she said.

  His gut cramped at the idea of her being harmed by some disgruntled patron or dirty copper. “Absolutely not. This is not up for discussion, Florence.”

  “I’ll meet you in the cellar,” Jack told Clay before hurrying out.

  Clay began leading Florence to the door. “You’re going home and you may not return until I’m certain it’s safe.”

  “That is ridiculous. No one wants to hurt me. I can help search for whoever—”

  “No.” Once over the threshold he towed her down the corridor, not slowing his pace. The sooner he got her to safety, the sooner he could breathe freely again. “I won’t allow it. You must leave. I will contact you to let you know when you may return.”

  “What if you don’t find anyone? Does that mean I may return tonight?”

  “Not tonight.” As much as he wanted her in his bed he wouldn’t chance it.

  “So it could be weeks before I see you again. Is that what you are telling me?”

  He stopped on the stairs and maneuvered her until her back was against the wall. Placing his forehead to hers, he cupped her jaw with both hands. “I’ll not risk your safety. Not today, not ever. Don’t ask it, because I cannot allow anyone to hurt you. It would destroy me.”

  Her jaw fell open as her chest rose and fell with her labored breath. They seemed to pause a moment while the weight of what he’d said settled between them. “Oh, Clay.” She pressed up and kissed him swiftly, her lips warm and insistent, reassuring. She was here, right here, safe with him.

  And it needed to stay that way. He couldn’t let the dark ugliness from his life ever bleed into hers. “Come along,” he said after breaking the kiss.

  In a few minutes they reached the back door. Kid Johnny was on the floor, slouched against the wall with some ice on his head, a few other men gathered around. “One of you fetch a hack,” Clay said to the group standing around. One of the boys nodded and took off out the back door. “You all right?” Clay asked Kid, who was actually twenty-five but looked more like sixteen.

  Kid winced as he frowned up at Clay. “I’m sorry, Madden. Guy got the drop on me. I heard a noise in the alley but couldn’t see anyone. I went out to investigate and he clobbered me.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Clay said. “We’ll find him. I need to see her off first. Then I’ll return and get you settled at Anna’s.”

  “Clay, what if I—” Florence started, but he held up a hand to stop whatever she was about to say.

  “Answer is still no. You’re going back uptown, princess.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Clay and Jack turned over every chair, looked in each corner. They searched cabinets and closets. Under beds and behind curtains. No room was missed, from the cellar to the attic. Yet, no intruder was found.

  They had even checked the patrons on the casino floor. No strangers were present, no one who would need to fight his way inside. All were paying members.

  It made no damn sense.

  Clay stood on the balcony, Jack at his side, and watched the familiar throw of the dice, the twirl of the wheel. Men laughed and clapped, champagne and spirits flowing freely. All was normal in the Bronze House tonight, if one didn’t consider the guard clubbed over the head two hours ago.

  “He could’ve escaped,” Jack said. The former boxer’s arms were crossed over his chest, anger evident in the heavy set of his shoulders. Clay knew Jack took the security of the Bronze House seriously, and his friend was upset over the breach. “Or not even come inside. He might have attacked Kid and run off.”

  Clay didn’t believe it. Random acts of violence were rare in this world. Most violence had a purpose, even if that purpose made sense only to the perpetrator. “Why bother?”

  “Scouting the place? Finding out what our security looks like for a break-in later?”

  A tactic some criminals employed. “Per
haps. Or he might’ve been doing something in the alley he didn’t want Kid to discover.”

  “Doubtful, but that would explain not sticking around.” Jack pounded a fist against the railing and the wood shook with the force of the blow. “I don’t like the not knowing. A thief, he breaks in and we catch him. Someone sneaks onto the floor and we bounce him. The mystery of it doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “Me either. But he’s definitely not inside. And no one’s been in or out in two hours.” The dealers had given free chips to anyone wishing to leave during the search. That had kept the patrons happy and occupied while Clay and Jack tore the place apart.

  “Do you think it’s related to Bill?”

  Clay had considered that, but attacking one of the Bronze House’s employees didn’t seem like Bill’s style. “I’m not ruling it out but unlikely he’d bother. He’d rather come after me, not Kid.”

  “True. And everyone here knows him. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to try to hurt you.”

  “Not to mention he threatened to tell Duncan about Florence’s visits here. I’d expect that before he attacked the staff.”

  “A disgruntled patron, then?”

  “We’ve had our fair share of those.” Clay dragged a hand down his face. “I couldn’t point to one that stands out as the culprit, however.”

  The sound of boot heels signaled the arrival of a female. Not the one Clay hoped, of course. Florence had been sent home directly after the discovery of Kid Johnny’s injury. And Clay wouldn’t allow her to return until he was certain this attack wasn’t a prelude to more violence. No matter how much he ached for her.

  “Did you find whoever hurt Johnny?” Anna asked as she approached.

  “No,” Clay said. “We didn’t find anyone inside the building.”

  Anna came alongside them, her face pulled into a frown. “That doesn’t ease my worries.”

  “Or mine,” Jack said.

  “We will remain vigilant,” Clay said. “It’s all we can do at this point. How’s Kid?”

  “Just peachy.” Anna’s mouth curved into a smile. “The doctor left an hour ago. Kid now has seven beautiful women fluttering around him and offering to play nurse. Don’t expect him to recover anytime soon.”