by Renee Ryan
She sighed. “Nor am I.”
“Good. Now, for the rules of your employment.”
“Rules? What rules?”
“You will live a clean, wholesome life while working inside the hotel and on your own time. Any unseemly behavior, whether here or anywhere else, will be grounds for immediate dismissal.”
For once, she didn’t argue with him. “I understand.”
“You will be held to the same standard of behavior as all the women in my employ. Break one of my rules and you’ll be fired on the spot.”
“My, that sounds ominous.”
“I mean what I say.”
“Yes, I get that.”
A pall of silence fell over them. They eyed one another with equal amounts of suspicion. And something else. Something Marc didn’t dare define.
“So, Marc.” She said his name in that soft, throaty voice of hers that left him blinking at her like a fool. “Am I to have the rest of these rules spelled out for me, or am I to guess at them?”
“Right.” He’d almost forgotten. “My requirements are simple and straightforward. No drinking, no cheating the customers, no lying, no stealing and, definitely, no—”
“Kissing the boss?” she asked with a deceptively innocent batting of her eyes.
“I was going to say...” He had to look away to hide his smile. “No breaking into any of my safes.”
“Spoilsport.”
He did smile at that, then instantly wiped his expression clean. He couldn’t allow this woman to gain the upper hand in their highly irregular relationship. “Did I mention that Marshal Scott will be here later this evening?”
“You don’t have to threaten me.” She held up her hands in surrender, but ruined the picture of compliance by winking at him. “I promise to play nicely. As long as you do the same.”
And he was holding off another smile. “I’ll expect you to show up on time and work hard while you’re here. In return, I’ll pay you the salary I quoted this morning. Are these terms acceptable?”
“Yes, they are. Thank you.”
Uncomfortable at the gratitude he heard in her voice, he turned to leave, then caught himself. He still held the black silk dress in his hand.
“Here you go.” He tossed the uniform in her direction.
She caught the garment with a quick swipe of her hand. Marc didn’t miss the fact that she’d moved with lightning speed. The woman certainly had a unique range of talents. And Marc was starting to become impressed by nearly every one of them.
Careful to keep his admiration out of his voice, he spoke with a bland, flat inflection. “Once you’ve changed into your uniform, join me out at the front desk.”
“Gee, you make it sound so fascinating.” She pressed a hand to her heart and sighed dramatically. “I’m all aflutter. I can hardly hold back my excitement.”
Right then, right there, Marc gave up the fight and smiled directly into the woman’s beautiful, amber eyes. Catching her playful mood, he gave her a wry smile. “Try to contain yourself, Laney. For both our sakes, please, try.”
Chapter Nine
With her mind in turmoil, Laney gaped at the door Marc had just shut behind him with a soft click. Just this morning, confronted with her worst nightmare, she’d prayed for guidance and a solution to her money problems.
The Lord had answered her dilemma through an unlikely source. Marc Dupree.
His job offer was a blessing. An answer to prayer.
But, truly, what had she gotten herself into, putting her future into his hands?
Sorting through the events of the last hour, she worked the black silk of her “uniform” through her fingers. The fact that Marc had felt the need to spell out the rules of her employment left Laney wondering about the type of women he employed. Women of ill repute, no doubt. But why did he bother?
To save them from their chosen profession?
Was he that humane, that kind?
What would Laney’s childhood have been like had someone given her mother a job like the one Marc had given her?
Would Laney have been raised with love and a sense of belonging? If so, would she have felt the need to start Charity House? After all, her chaotic, unpredictable childhood had led her to provide a safe home for the children in her care.
Tapping her finger against her chin, she sighed over another thought plaguing her. She hated Marc thinking she belonged in the same category as the other women he hired, women like her mother.
Isn’t that what you wanted? In an attempt to protect Charity House and the children, Laney had sent the man on a merry chase down The Row, leading him to conclude she was a shady lady seeking money for shady purposes.
Oh, she’d done it for the right reasons, but what a mess she’d made for herself.
Laney squeezed her eyes closed, praying for clarity. Her mind blurred with the memory of Marc’s tender kiss. She shivered in response. The moment their lips touched everything had changed between them. Their relationship had changed.
For the better? Or the worse?
Because of her “willingness” to partake in the kiss would Marc always believe she belonged on The Row?
Letting out a rush of air, Laney pounded a fist against her thigh.
The memory of the countless men who’d paid their money and then lain with Laney’s mother, should be enough to quell any silly, romantic notions she might have about Marc Dupree and his kiss.
Dirty, nasty, filthy. That’s what she knew of intimate relations between a man and a woman. But would it be different with the right man? Would it be special?
The thought brought shameful heat to her cheeks.
At least facing the man again wouldn’t be a problem. Learning her new job duties would demand her complete concentration. She wouldn’t even have to acknowledge him. Unless he chose to instruct her himself, conveniently keeping watch over her.
“He wouldn’t dare,” she whispered to herself.
Oh, yes he would. Especially if she kept him waiting much longer. With grim determination Laney quickly stripped off the plain dress she’d worn to spite Dupree—just as he’d suspected—and stepped into the black gown.
Pulling the garment over her shoulders, her breath caught in her throat. The dress was a perfect fit. She sighed, releasing some of the built-up tension in her neck then spun toward the mirror standing next to the armoire. Taking a long look at herself, she studied the profound changes.
She barely recognized the stranger that stared back at her. Was it just the refinement of the black silk and the elegant cut of the dress, or did Dupree’s kiss have something to do with the alterations she now saw in her reflection?
What would the children think if they saw her in this dress?
The children.
Her heart sank at the memory of the sullen, terrified faces as she’d kissed each of them good-night. She’d been confident all would work out as she’d left them in Katherine’s capable care. Until one of them actually begged her not to go. That was when Laney had realized the magnitude of trouble in which she’d landed herself, and Charity House.
Johnny, Judge Greene’s boy, had been frantic when he’d seen her leaving the house as the sun was setting. He’d reacted as though he knew exactly where she was headed and what she planned to do.
He’d been wrong, of course. But at the age of twelve, he’d seen too much of the ugly side of life thanks to his prostitute mother whose money went to feeding her opium addiction instead of her son.
Only time and a lot of love would heal Johnny’s unseen wounds. Laney prayed that one day he would accept that grace and mercy were real, that he was a deserving child of God. Worthy of love, not because of something he did, but because he believed.
At least tonight Laney would return home before dawn, as promised. Perhaps then Johnny would accept that she wasn’t living the same life as his mother.
Letting out a sigh, she smoothed her hands down her skirt and forced back the last of her uneasiness.
&nb
sp; It was silly to worry any further. She could manage whatever came her way. She always did. As such, she could certainly handle a certain arrogant, way-too-big-for-his-britches hotel owner.
After all, he was just a man.
With a penchant for suspicion and distrust.
He deserves grace and mercy, too.
Shoulders back, sighing one last time, Laney twisted the door handle and pushed into the hotel lobby.
The first thing she noticed was the noise. Laughter and countless conversations twined with one another to create a chaotic harmony of sound. People of all sizes, ages and genders milled about the main lobby.
Most wore fashionable clothing that matched the unmistakable opulence of the Hotel Dupree. Every piece of furniture had been plumped to comfortable roundness, each rug was spotless, every slice of marble flooring shined.
The obvious wealth and power emanating throughout the décor reminded Laney just what a man like Marc Dupree held dear. Status and money. Money and status.
She needed to keep that reality in mind.
As though drawn by some unseen force, Laney connected gazes with the hotel owner himself.
He made a twirling motion with his finger. Obligingly, she turned in a slow circle, arms outstretched.
A lopsided smirk tugged his lips into a captivating angle, calling to mind their kiss. As though unable to support the weight of her thoughts her knees froze, then suddenly gave out. Thankfully, Laney had the presence of mind to reach out and steady herself on the edge of a nearby chair.
Well, then. Clearly, she’d fooled herself into thinking Marc was just another man. On the contrary, he was unlike any person she’d ever met, capable of making her feel the most frightening emotion of all. Hope.
What gave him the right to do this to her? Before tonight she’d been a woman who could handle any challenge thrown her way. Now, as she clutched white knuckles to the chair, she had a sick feeling that there would be no easy answer to the problem called Marc Dupree.
* * *
With far more attentiveness than he’d like, Marc had followed Laney’s progress through the hotel lobby. He’d known the exact moment she’d exited his office, perhaps because he’d pasted his gaze to the door for the last fifteen minutes.
Ever since their kiss, he’d been unable to concentrate on anything or anyone but her.
After leaving her in his office to change dresses, he’d waved off Hank, ignored his customers and set out to find a quiet spot to think. As he’d silently considered all that had transpired, he’d almost convinced himself that what they’d shared had been merely a kiss. But he knew better. He and Laney had captured something profoundly deep. Maybe even life changing.
Now that was disheartening beyond measure. He was heading right down the same path as the night he’d committed the ill-conceived decision to marry Pearl LaRue and save her from herself.
What a fool he’d been all those years ago. As he’d stood in front of the preacher, reciting his vows, he hadn’t considered that Pearl might have liked her role as temptress to every living, breathing male. That life on the stage hadn’t been enough to fund her lifestyle as she’d claimed the night he met her. Aside from singing on the stage, Pearl had enjoyed taking money on the side in return for her “special” favors.
Was Laney O’Connor the same? Marc had learned that a man couldn’t change a woman’s heart, or her hidden dreams, no matter how hard he tried. Although, now that he allowed his mind free rein, Laney’s display of panic after their kiss made him want to reconsider his opinion of her.
Watching her now, clutching at the chair beneath her hand, he wanted her to be exactly what she looked like. A brave young woman caught in a series of unfortunate mistakes, yet willing to see the consequences of her actions through to the end.
Needing to gain some perspective, Marc broke eye contact and surveyed the activity in the hotel. It didn’t take him long to notice how the men stared at Laney with varied levels of masculine interest.
And why not?
There she stood, magnificent in that black dress. Glowing, radiant. She had the look of both frailty and strength. Innocence with a hint of mystery—a powerful combination a man couldn’t ignore for long.
Even now, Marc wanted to wrap her in his embrace and protect her from the bad things in this world. His gut twisted tighter and in that moment, he knew he should have never hired her to work in his hotel.
Trouble. The woman had trouble written all over her.
Releasing a hiss, Marc set out. He looked down at the tight fist he’d formed with his hand. Relaxing his fingers, he strode across the lobby with a clipped stride.
He stopped next to Laney and looked into her amber eyes. Some unnamed emotion robbed him of his ability to speak. Since she didn’t try to talk, either, and instead raked her gaze across his face, Marc took a moment to study her attire up close.
The dress added a touch of refinement to her already graceful form. He took a deep breath of her unique, lilac fragrance that was hers alone.
Tenderness gripped his heart and he had to stifle the urge to brush his lips against her forehead. “The dress suits you.”
Her gaze snapped to his. “Did you just give me a compliment?”
He enjoyed the shock flashing in her eyes, it added to the image of innocence that unfolded a little more each time they met. He finally accepted that he wanted, needed, her to be as innocent as she looked now. And that scared him far more than anything Pearl had dished out during their two years of marriage.
But not enough to stop him from adding, “Truly, Laney. You look lovely.”
Clearly confused, she shook her head at him. “I simply don’t know what to say.”
He grinned down at her. “Thank you is the customary response.”
She lowered her head, smoothed the skirt with shaking fingers then raised her gaze to his again. He liked the way she looked him directly in the eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He suddenly wanted to shock her again, replace that slight smile of delight quivering on her lips with another kiss. But he’d promised not to kiss her again. And he always kept his word.
“Let’s get you started, shall we?”
With a line of worry creasing her brow, she nibbled on her lower lip. “Will you be instructing me on my duties tonight?”
“No. I’ll leave that task to Rose.” Marc pointed at the older woman watching them from behind the front desk.
Catching Laney’s eye, Rose waved at her.
Laney waved back. “She looks like a nice lady.”
“She is. She’ll teach you everything you’ll need to know to do your job well. She’s my best front desk clerk.” Which was true enough. Marc didn’t add that Rose had once been a notorious madam in Cripple Creek. “Come on. I’ll introduce you.”
He placed his hand at the small of Laney’s back and led her through the lobby. He couldn’t explain why the sudden feeling of protectiveness that whipped through him felt so good.
Trouble.
Yeah. Marc’s association with Laney O’Connor promised to be nothing but trouble.
Chapter Ten
For the next few days, life at the Hotel Dupree fell into a routine. As he’d done every evening since taking full control, Marc surveyed the interaction between his employees and customers from a corner of the lobby. He drank in the finely honed rhythm and waited for the surge of pride that came with ownership. Unfortunately, this night the sights and sounds didn’t bring their usual satisfaction.
Why wasn’t he content?
And why couldn’t he shake the notion that something was missing? The longer he beheld the workings of what had become his home, the more a strange sense of disquiet tugged at him. It was as though tonight, instead of seeing the fruits of his labor, he saw just another fancy hotel.
His gaze continued to rove, pausing at the front desk.
Laney. She smiled at an elderly couple she was helping register for the night, no doubt char
ming them with her poise and wit. A favorite of the guests already, she was fast becoming indispensible.
The now familiar jerk of Marc’s pulse was just as unwelcome as the last time he’d experienced the sensation, and the time before that. The woman had spent far too much time in his head. He wasn’t about to allow her to continue making him crazy just because she smiled at every guest that came her way. That was, after all, her job.
Determined to concentrate on anything other than his growing awareness of Laney O’Connor, Marc shifted his gaze to the restaurant on his right. They had a nice crowd this evening. Yet, despite his best efforts to engage his mind on business, his gaze wandered back to Laney. His heart made one hard kick against his ribs.
What was it that drew him to her? She’d shown up for work every night since they’d come to their agreement, and he had yet to get used to her presence. If he were a wise man he’d discover her secret, the one that kept her silent whenever he questioned her as to why she’d needed Greene’s money.
Perhaps if Marc knew the truth, she’d no longer have this power over him. In the hopes of finding out something, anything, he’d attempted to walk her home each night after her shift. But every time he offered she turned him down.
He knew he could have insisted, could have forced the issue, but he’d rather remain in ignorance than discover he’d been right about her all along. And since she always came to work punctual and ready to do her best, he didn’t really need to know more.
At least, that’s what he told himself.
The man standing next to him chuckled, and then pounded him on the back, gaining his full attention. “When you gonna quit gaping at that woman and offer me something to eat from your fine restaurant? My gut’s practically pressing against my backbone.”
Marc snapped his gaze to Trey and frowned. “I wasn’t gaping at Laney.”
“Right.” Trey divided a look between Marc and the front desk. “But you knew exactly who I was talking about, didn’t you?”
Deciding the question didn’t deserve a response, Marc focused on a more important matter. “You want the food or not?”