“I’ll move her into my damned home if it means you will stay,” he replied.
“You will?” She brightened.
“Kiss me, and only then will you get a response.”
She leaned in and cupped his jaw, then feathered her lips across his, brushing them back and forth lightly. “Oh, how I love this couillon.”
He barked out an obscenely loud laugh, then gripped her with an ironclad grasp and held her to him as he plunged his tongue inside her warm, inviting mouth.
“No more fighting. And I am sorry I spanked you,” he said.
She snorted. “I deserved it, and I could have stopped you if I’d wished.” She nodded. “Yes—I agree. No more fighting. You are forgiven, and I love you.”
“I love you, too. Beyond all hope of reason.” When he let her go, he had to admit he was a little lightheaded.
That had never happened to him before, but she was agreeing for once to do as he asked. She would stay with him.
Something shifted inside his chest. Was it his soul?
Had he found a woman feisty as hell and willing to submit if he offered her the freedom to care for others?
Truly this idea to procreate and make a baby with her might be the answer to both of their issues.
She needed to nurture, and he needed to have her available to him at all times and in his home.
He slipped back over to the wheel and drove away, straight to the bank.
She sat quietly at his side. He had no idea what she was thinking. He reached for her hand, and she freely gave it.
His heart soared from this simple gesture.
He took her hand to his lips and kissed each delicate knuckle. “Never wear gloves. I forbid it.”
“No need to worry there, my lord. I do not own any, so unless you purchase them, they will not be found in my belongings.”
“My lord?” She called him lord. Dear God, his cock hardened to an unbearable degree, and his grip clamped down on her hand.
“Oh, you . . . You like that, Ferrismore. I may have a weapon against you.” She was breathless.
And he was breathing too heavy.
He stifled a chuckle. “Woman, you are an arsenal constantly combating against me, when all I want is access to your chambers.”
She laughed, scooted closer and with her other dainty hand, she stroked his cock.
“Easy, my lady. We arrive at the bank soon. And no one wants to see a man with his armor shoved down his trousers.”
“I do. It’s by far when you’re most agreeable.” She chuckled, then took her hand back.
“Clearly, you need to be around me more often. Yet, another reason you must abide with me in my big, lonely house.” He pretended to pout.
“Tsk, tsk, Lord Ferrismore, you are far from wounded.”
“Stop now, before I take you on this seat. No more of this lord business, until later tonight—then I shall demand it.”
She smiled, and her shoulders arched up around her ears. Truly this exotic creature was enjoying his torture.
He parked, took a deep breath and warned her, “Do not speak to anyone in there unless I give you express permission. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.” She smirked.
“Minx.”
“Shall I share with you another French curse word that pairs well with your surly demeanor?”
He laughed and slapped the wheel. “Good Lord, no. I need to make it inside in one piece.”
She laughed along with him and then he helped her inside.
He nodded to several people on the way in, and she did as well.
His cane clinked down the pristine vast hallway to get to the boardroom of trustees.
Tyrone Power welcomed him in and straightaway set his sights on the cherry girl.
Fabulous. This was precisely what he needed.
William gently prodded her before him to keep Power away.
This was the type of man he was protecting her from in the acting industry.
“Tyrone Power?” she gasped.
“He is nothing more than an absolute rake,” William said quietly in her ear.
She ignored him and powered past him, her hand extended. “I am a fan of your work. You are indeed an inspiring actor.”
“Why thank you, my little rose bud,” Power crooned.
She staggered in place for a moment, and William’s breath jammed in his throat as he intercepted before Power took her hand up to his mouth to kiss her bare flesh.
Maybe he needed to rethink this glove thing for her.
“Where is the fire, man? Morgan acted like the place was about to tumble about his ears,” William said to Power.
She paled at his side.
Shit! Fire and tumbling buildings was a sensitive topic.
What kind of man was he to forget such a basic thing as that? In fact, he hadn’t even helped her to find the rest of her roommates yet. What if they were in peril? What if police men were digging their corpses out of that rubble that had once been her Twenty-Fourth Street tenement?
She told him one of them perished in the fire, but that was the extent of what he knew.
His stomach twisted with guilt.
When they finished here, they would develop a sound plan together of how to track them all down and make sure they wanted for nothing.
As Power walked them over to the table where the men were already squabbling, William leaned toward her and whispered, “I apologize, dearest. That was cruel, but I did not mean—”
“Why have you brought one of your starlets along?” Morgan cried out to William.
“She is more than a starlet to me—she is to be my wife very soon.”
Cherry gasped next to him.
He tucked her into his side. “She is to be with me for now until things settle back home. There have been some unfortunate events in her life recently, and I plan to be here to help her through.”
Morgan nodded and a few other of the buffoons at the table did the same.
In total, there were about twenty-four gathered.
Clarissa was stiff at his side.
“This is Miss Clarissa Stone—the daring and lovely lady that can handle talks of this magnitude,” William said, glowing inside.
“Je vous remercie de m’avoir permise d’être ici,” she replied to the group, then curtsied with such elegance, William about fell on his ass.
“She says thank you for allowing her to be here,” Power translated before William could find his tongue in his dropped-open mouth.
Most of the men gawked at her—with the exception of Morgan.
“Come, come, J.P. Let us begin now that we are all here,” Power told Morgan, smirking at Cherry girl.
William swapped seats with her before she sat down so she would not be placed next to Power and then he helped her take her chair.
She was demure, lovely and making him impossibly harder.
Damn this woman. He could never leave her behind for fear he might lose her.
“First order of business—bank notes being denied,” Morgan began.
Cherry girl sat next to him prim and proper, and her eyes followed around the room intently as each man spoke his concerns.
As it neared his turn to speak his mind, Power leaned in and whispered, “Your rare treasure is most diverting. Did you bring her here to stop up their mouths? Because I daresay it is working.” He chuckled, then pulled back.
William fought off the distinct urge to power his fist through Power’s nose like he had with Miller.
“What say you, Ferrismore, to this dilapidated state of things? Isn’t it atrocious that trusts are collapsing and regional, smaller banks are removing their funds from the Federal Reserve?”
“What I find appalling is that this was able to occur at all,” William said. “As I see it, the stock exchange falling is a warning to us all. Shore up your funds, keep them close and only store your excesses in the bank.”
Morgan glowered, and his tone lowered. “That is precise
ly the opposite of what should happen. If we all run with tucked tail and hide away our funds, the banking systems will all collapse. I, for one, intend to back these banks, and I would expect you to be a man and do the same,” he told William, staring at him directly.
William was about to get up and throw his hat and cane at this bastard, but a soft, delicate hand under the table reached over and gripped his hand, settling him in place.
“Do tell. And you have the gift of foresight?” William said, his voice smooth and easy.
“I have enough knowledge to know when destruction can be avoided due to privileged men taking responsibility and helping those in need, rather than being selfish and hoarding away what they have earned. What are the less fortunate to do if the banks refuse to accept their bank notes?”
William heard a soft sigh next to him and then Cherry girl lifted her head. “They starve. That is what happens. I know because that is what happened to me when I could no longer find gainful employment.”
Oh Jesus, no. William’s throat closed up. She had stopped up his mouth, not all the men gasping around him.
Chapter 12
Cherry girl went ahead and shared her woeful tale of heartache and misery. And before long, everyone at the table appeared touched by her.
William’s heart was racked with pain over hearing about what it was like for her after her parents passed away, and how she and her cousin helped each other out in the orphanage.
She had no shame and lacked all guile.
The only problem was Power was damn near drooling after her now since he obviously had a sweet tooth, and there were no women in the acting sphere to compare with her in terms of sweetness.
They eventually took a vote on courses of action, but it was split. Some wanted to go with Morgan, and others with William.
And he wished he could swallow up the words he had spewed so carelessly.
Of course she would speak out on what was dear to her, and he appeared the thoughtless lover—the man that cared only about protecting his own wealth, rather than her, the prize he cherished most in the world.
Parts of him were ripped to pieces over the fact that what he had initially said about his money and holdings had also applied to her. He wanted to keep her in his own vault at home, where no one could make a run on her and covet the rare gem that she was.
He sighed heavy and low, his belly pained as the meeting ended, and Power stepped right up to Clarissa and struck up a conversation.
“You—engaging woman—must attend the next party at my home for all the regional actors and actresses. I will not take no for an answer.”
He moved to take her hand, but William was faster. “No, Tyrone. She’s an engaged woman.”
“Yet, I see no ring on her finger,” Power pointed out.
Cherry went rigid.
“And wasn’t it you that was stilting her appearances on the stage by calling all the theaters, including the one I am currently involved with—stating that under no circumstances were any of the directors to hire her?” Power smirked.
Cherry girl sauntered on by them as if nothing at all had just transpired that was unpleasant.
Oh, this might be worse.
She might explode at him in the motorcar on the way home.
William braced himself for her claws and took off after her, tucking his cane at his side.
She might take it and use it against him.
Her regal carriage was intimidating, and her aloofness downright petrifying.
He had achieved what he most dreaded. He’d found a way to make it so she simply must leave him.
Not only had he announced they were to wed without ever officially asking her first and gaining her consent, but Power had shared William’s way of protecting her by keeping her offstage and turning it into a nasty barb in her side.
He helped her into the motorcar, and still, she wore an impassive gaze, head held high.
Once he was inside, he refused to start the vehicle. “Please—tear me to shreds and then let me share my bit before you decide to go.”
“Go where?”
“I don’t know. Wherever it is you intend to hide out to torture me—Pauline’s, Leo’s, Santa Claus’s estate. I have no fucking notion of where you might go to keep away from me.”
“You made a promise to me, did you not?”
She finally turned to him, and he nodded.
“If I leave, then what will Pauline do? I told you I would not stay with her because you need me. Well, that’s what I intend to do. I will stay.” His face lit up, but she kept going, “But that does not grant you access to my bed. You think because I am willing to love you and take you between my legs that it means I will always do so? You hurt me today, Will—greatly. I had the faintest idea it might’ve been you barring my way to the stage, but I dismissed it because I care about you, and I did not think you capable of such treachery.”
“Care—not love?” His heart sunk.
“That is all you heard?” Her jaw went taut.
She leaned over and jammed her lips onto his. It was not pleasant, it was not nice—it was rough and dirty, like Cherry Street.
Her fingers were in his hair, all but yanking handfuls out at the roots.
When she broke away she groaned. “There are many people I care about. I do not put myself first because when I do that, others suffer, and I cannot stand to live with the guilt. So, yes”—she huffed—“I will live in your house, but I will not be in your bed, any more than you will be in mine.”
He clicked his jaw in place, then loosened it. “You think I stopped you for malicious reasons, but this time you are far off course. I did it because you are lovely, sweet and innocent. Men like Power eat women like you for brunch and then toss the napkin at you. And not so you can brush the crumbs off you he trailed behind, but so you can mop up your pussy after he’s spewed his foul seed on you. His stench is much worse than Miller’s. At least Miller might not be a habitual murderer of hearts—but Power is. He would bed you, drop you, then shit on your feet so you can kick it off as you get up and leave. And no matter how much you or I wash you off with soap and warm water, that is a stench that will take decades to rid yourself of.”
She sighed, stroked his jaw and shook her head. “You do not think I am aware of what he is?”
“Then why would you even allow him to touch and talk to you?”
“I knew you had a seedy life before I ever spoke to you, yet I allowed you the latitude to be a good person. If I shun everyone that has made a mistake, it would mean I would ever be lonely and friendless.”
He leaned forward and rubbed noses, then stroked her bottom lip. “You are entirely too tenderhearted. I mean to protect you and keep you that way.”
“I cannot fault you for taking care of me. You are very good at it, sir, but I don’t want to be coddled. How long have I lived in Cherry Street blemish-free without you watching over me?”
“You might take care to choose your words a little more carefully.” His right brow wedged its way up his forehead.
“Leo was there. He would have stopped Miller.”
“Then where was he, huh? Why was he not keeping that bastard from even breathing in your direction?” His gut was so tight it was encroaching on his breathing space.
“Leo has a problem that forces him to use the water closet often,” she said, her voice going quiet.
“What problem?”
“We do not know what it is, but he thirsts often, drinks copious amounts of fluid when home and pisses frequently.”
“You, lady, are full of surprises.” He rubbed his forehead against hers and sighed. “Anything else I should know?’
“I haven’t the faintest notion about what will send you into a fit.” She smiled.
“You drive me mad—but God help me, I will never regret meeting you.”
Her eyes were simmering with deep affection and perhaps some naughty thoughts as well.
“Come—we go to find your roommates
that were displaced by the fire,” he said, then drove off in search of them and in search of his redemption from today’s mistakes.
* * *
Elizabeth was not hard to find. She was hovering in Central Park in a place Clarissa said she had stayed a portion of the night the bomb was tossed into her tenement.
Evidently, she and Elizabeth used to take walks here when either of them was vexed with something pressing. She said it was her place of healing and clarity. His chest warmed at that thought.
Now as he drove Elizabeth back to his home, he wondered what was happening to his well-ordered world.
He was turning his place into his own type of home for misfit women.
Pauline almost mauled Clarissa with the most vicious hug ever when she told her the news that she would stay with them in William’s home.
He sighed to himself for the tenth time in the last hour.
“I have no idea where Joanna went. She was always quiet, that one. So I don’t know if she had a love interest somewhere in the city, but anyway, she can find shelter. She had the most reliable job of any of us,” Elizabeth chattered on.
“So, you are unaware of the whereabouts of your fourth roommate?” he asked.
Elizabeth gave him a look that spelled out that he was thick if he had to ask that question.
“Tell me what I can do to help you,” Clarissa began, patting her friend’s hand.
“I got no clothing.” Elizabeth sniffed. “All burned up.”
“I’m certain between Pauline and I, we can outfit you. ‘Twill all be fine.” Clarissa sat rigid in place.
“I will take you both shopping tomorrow,” William offered.
They both fell silent. Clarissa squeezed his thigh above his knee and gave him the most stirring look ever.
Was it devotion in her eyes he was seeing there?
“Wait until you meet Pauline. She’s just like us,” Clarissa told her friend.
Except she’s a prostitute and does not like men—she may like you, though, since Garrity has ignored her advances completely.
He should warn them, but how?
“Uh . . . You might want to be aware of her proclivities toward the female persuasion,” he said, clearing his throat at the end.
Pearl on Cherry Page 15