by Renee Ryan
“Didn’t I already say my leaving was her idea? Just say what you really want from me so we can end this ridiculous game.”
Eyes narrowed, Marc’s lips crushed into a hard, thin line. “What I want is an explanation as to why you’re in business with a banker like Prescott. I also want the exact location where you live and, finally, I want to know the reason you accepted money from Judge Greene.”
Holding his arrogant, forceful graze, Laney sniffed delicately. “Is that all?”
“No.” Visibly relaxing, his lips curled toward that thrilling smile again. “I could use a decent meal and a strong cup of coffee.”
She hated how she had to fight not to return his smile. Like a dog on point she made her request for a third time. “It’s real simple, Marc. Either I can go home now or I can’t. Make your decision or I’ll make it for you.”
She’d forgotten all about the other man in the room until a choked bark of laughter caught her attention. She swung a disapproving glare in his direction. “Something funny?”
“No, ma’am. Just enjoying the show.”
“Then keep out of this.”
He raised his hands in a show of surrender. “Whatever the lady says.”
At least one of the men in this room knew who was in charge.
Turning back to the more stubborn of the two, Laney tapped her foot on the carpet. “Well? What’s it to be?”
“Where are my manners?” His tone filled with mock politeness as he grabbed her hand and tugged her deeper into the room before shutting the door behind her. “You’ve never officially met my friend, U.S. Marshal Trey Scott.”
“Perhaps I don’t want to meet him.”
“Sure you do.”
She yanked on her hand, but Marc pulled her closer until they stood inches apart. His scent filled her head, making her think of the last time she’d been in this office.
With a lift of her hand, she could reach up and drag Marc’s head toward hers, finally discovering whether the kiss they’d shared the other night had been real or just a figment of her imagination. She didn’t do it, of course.
In an attempt to harden her defenses against him, she fired off insults at will. “You are the most fallible, self-deluded, bullheaded man I know.”
“There you go again, making me all aflutter with your fine words regarding my character.”
She poked a finger against his chest. “A swine, that’s what you are.”
“You’re too kind, really.” He leaned over her and dropped his voice to a mere whisper. “Watch out, Laney, you might turn my head.”
“I’m completely unimpressed with your clever responses, Marc.” This time when she pulled on her hand, he released her.
She spun to leave.
Unfortunately, two steps forward and she found herself eye to eye with a shiny tin star that had U.S. marshal branded in the metal.
Where was the fear? The trepidation?
Strange, even though this man towered over her, she wasn’t at all scared of him. And she experienced none of the confusing emotions whenever Marc stood this close to her. She looked up, and up some more, before she finally noticed that the marshal was grinning at her. The gesture made him appear almost boyish.
Maybe her absence of fear was due to lack of sleep, or maybe it was that very likable smile. Or maybe it was simply because the man had shaved off the dark stubble that usually covered his jaw.
“I’m pleased to finally meet you, Miss O’Connor.” His voice was a deep, soothing bass rumbling in his chest.
Unsure if he meant what he said or was playing a game with her, she stared at him for a long moment. But then he winked at her, and she finally released a returning smile. “You, too, Marshal Scott.”
“Call me Trey.”
“I think I’d like that.”
From behind her Marc released a growl from deep in his throat. “You’re done for the evening, Laney.”
She spun around at his sudden acquiescence. Forgetting for a moment what she’d come into the office for in the first place, she scrunched her eyebrows together. “What?”
“You may go home.”
“I... Wait just a minute. Why are you letting me go all of a sudden?”
“Why not?” His gaze didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Like you said yourself, we aren’t that busy this evening.”
No, they weren’t. But still, why was he capitulating?
“Well, now that Marc has made his decision at last,” Marshal Scott cleared his voice, “won’t you allow me to escort you home, Miss O’Connor?”
Laney turned back around. “You? No...” She quickly gained control of her spinning thoughts. “No, that won’t be necessary. I can manage on my own.”
The sudden heat at her back told her Marc had stepped forward, trapping her in from behind. “No, Trey. I’ll escort her.”
“You have a hotel to run. While I’m free for the rest of the evening.” The marshal dropped a grin on her. “It would be my pleasure to escort you home, Miss O’Connor. A real pleasure.”
Too much musky, hulking male surrounded her. Her insides started to tremble, alerting Laney to the fact that the man behind her was far too close and the one in front of her was far too unfamiliar for all this personal closeness.
Twisting slightly, she thrust out her palms, landing a hand on each of their chests. With a hard shove she pushed at both men.
Neither budged.
She tried again. This time, Marc placed a restraining hand over hers. “I said I’d do it, Trey. End of discussion.”
Laney looked from one man to the other. Neither acknowledged her in return. They were too busy glaring at one another.
“It’s really no problem,” Trey said, his words rumbling over her head as he spoke directly to Marc. “I was leaving anyway.”
“You haven’t had your supper yet.” Marc squeezed Laney’s hand softly, but he didn’t move his gaze away from his friend. “I insist you stay here and eat.”
“Oh, well.” Trey shrugged a very large shoulder. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
Trey shrugged again. “All right.”
“Then it’s settled.”
Not for Laney.
She couldn’t afford either man escorting her home. The children’s safety demanded she make her way back to Charity House like she had every night since taking this job, alone. Neither Marc nor Trey could find out about the orphanage, at least not until Laney owned the house free and clear. Only then would she rethink her options.
For a moment, she watched the two men, measuring, gauging, trying to determine what was really going on between them. The two stood glaring at one another, neither moving. This had to be some sort of male standoff. Laney had seen a similar scenario just this afternoon when two of the older boys had fought over a toy.
She didn’t much like the idea that they might consider her a toy. “As much as I appreciate all this chivalry, I can find my way home on my own.”
Arms up, palms out, she quickly backed away, but a knock had all three of their heads turning toward the sound.
“Enter,” Marc and Trey said simultaneously.
The door swung open and a waiter carrying a platter on his shoulder stepped into the office. The delicious scent of ham and potatoes filled the air.
Sniffing in appreciation, Trey moved toward the smell. “Well, if you’ll excuse me. I have a plate of food to devour.” He glanced at Marc before exiting. “I’ll be in the restaurant if you need me.”
Motioning for the waiter to follow him, he strode out of the room without a backward glance.
Laney stared after him, his departure barely registering until the door shut with a soft click.
Her stomach dropped at the sound.
She was with Marc. In his office. For the first time since he’d kissed her three days prior. With no one to act in the role of buffer.
Trying to gain some semblance of control over her hammering pulse, Laney blew out a slow breath and faced the man
head-on.
All thought vanished from her mind, except the fact that here she stood. Alone. With a man who was looking exceptionally handsome in a gray vest, crisp striped shirt and red tie.
Holding her stare, his expression slowly changed, turning into something both frightening and exciting in its intensity.
Oh, my. Laney knew that look, had seen it was once before on his face.
Marc Dupree planned to kiss her again.
And Laney—Lord, help her—planned on letting him.
Chapter Twelve
Shoulders tense, gaze riveted, Laney braced herself for Marc’s kiss, feeling as though she were about to go to war. But then his eyes darkened to a deep, stormy blue and the emptiness she’d battled all her life gave way, beckoning her to let go and allow this man inside her heart.
He moved a step closer.
Sighing, she breathed in his spicy scent. Suddenly her daily burden of raising a houseful of children became a thousand-pound weight atop her shoulders. If only she could find a moment’s relief, just this once.
Perhaps kissing Marc wouldn’t be so terrible. Perhaps kissing him would bring a respite.
A rush of contentment surged through her blood as he reached around her and spanned his fingers against the small of her back.
Holding her breath in anticipation, she waited for him to lower his head.
He simply stared at her.
Afraid she wouldn’t be able to stop her heart from latching on to his, Laney prayed he wouldn’t press his lips to hers. In the next breath her prayer tumbled into the hope that he would kiss her.
Adding to her agitation, he continued to hold her gaze with his. He captured a loose curl falling from its pins and roped it around his finger.
“You have beautiful hair, Laney.” His already turbulent gaze filled with a yearning her soul recognized. “One of the first things I noticed about you.”
His words fell across her cheek like a warm, welcoming caress.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she whispered.
“Probably not.”
Letting the tendril bounce free, the storm clouds faded from his gaze. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her...forehead.
Shocked at the tenderness in the gesture, at her own hopeful reaction that they were on the verge of something more significant than a kiss, Laney wrestled between relief and disappointment. Before she could sift through which of the two emotions bothered her most, Marc gave her cheek a sweet, almost tender tap, tap with his finger.
“You look tired,” he said.
Unfair. Really unfair.
She knew how to defend against his arrogance, his condescension, even his masculine superiority. But how could she hold out against such sweet affection? He wasn’t supposed to like her, or worry about her. That would mean they could become friends. And then...maybe...something more.
Her eyes started watering. Big, fat tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. She blinked rapidly, desperately trying to gain control over her strange reaction to a simple gesture of concern.
Skimming his gaze across her face, his eyes narrowed. “You’re not getting emotional on me?”
And to think she’d almost allowed herself to believe they could become friends. Swiping the back of her hand across her cheek, she flicked him a look. “I’ll try to restrain myself.”
“That’s my girl.” He touched her bottom lip with his fingertip, his eyes still dancing with soft emotion. “I knew I could count on you.”
She couldn’t manage to speak past the burst of sensations rushing through her. Hope, anticipation, faith. Such dangerous emotions when she knew how this ended between them. How this had to end between them, with her walking away once she’d earned the money to pay off her loan. And him never the wiser about Charity House or the children.
“How much sleep are you getting, Laney?”
“Enough.” For one insane moment she wanted to share the strain of her schedule and the burden of her worries and, most of all, her fear of losing the orphanage. But the part of her that had survived too many years alone couldn’t give into such a weak, selfish need.
This wasn’t about her. It had never been about her.
Gentling his touch further, Marc traced his fingertip along the curve of her cheek then across the shadows below her eye. “Now why don’t I believe you?”
Even though she heard the twinge of sarcasm in his voice, she couldn’t muster her usual rancor. Mainly because she believed he was truly worried about her. And that scared her far more than Prescott’s threats to foreclose on Charity House.
Laney had to remember why she didn’t trust Marc Dupree, why she couldn’t trust him. Or she would fall into his arms and beg for his help. In an attempt to prevent such a disaster, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Can I have tomorrow off?”
“No.”
“How very kind of you to spend so much time considering my request.”
“Always willing to oblige.” His grin switched into the smile that turned her legs into nothing more substantial than cooked gelatin.
She locked her knees to keep from dropping to the ground. “I thought you were concerned I wasn’t getting enough sleep?”
“Tell me why you really want the day off and maybe I’ll reconsider your request.”
“Never mind.” She pushed him away from her with a hard shove to his chest. Knowing she needed to remain calm, she kept her gaze pinned to the third button of his shirt.
Placing his finger under her chin Marc applied enough pressure to force her to look at him eye to eye. “You know, Laney, withholding the truth can lead to telling bigger lies.”
She wrenched her chin free from his grasp and swallowed several times. Each time the beating of her heart grew louder in her ears. “Well, that settles it then. I’ll see you tomorrow night at six o’clock sharp.”
“Laney—”
She elbowed around him then tossed him a mock salute as she swung open the door and stepped into the lobby. “I’ll be heading out now. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“Wait a moment. I’ll escort you home, like we agreed.”
She looked over her shoulder and saw that he was closing in fast. “No. No.” She increased her pace. “That won’t be necessary.”
Two long strides and he drew alongside her. “Don’t be contrary. Bad things happen to women alone on the streets at this time of night.”
The genuine concern in his tone stopped her retreat. Placing her hands on her hips, she spun around to face him. “I can take care of myself.”
His lips smoothed into that smile she was growing to dread, mainly because she liked it so much. “You overestimate your own strength, sweetheart.”
He sounded as if her safety was his main concern. She knew better. “Watch out, Marc, your paranoia might be mistaken for caring.”
He threw his head back and laughed. Really laughed. The gesture looked entirely too appealing on his handsome face.
“All right, you win. I won’t see you home. Tonight.”
Wondering why he’d given in so quickly, she angled her head and studied his face. His expression gave nothing away.
“Have a nice evening.” He took her arm and steered her toward the door.
Her feet began to move despite her shock, while her jaw opened, closed. Why couldn’t she get any words out?
“Laney?” He touched her arm. “I’ve changed my mind. You can have tomorrow off.”
No. No, no, no, no, no. He didn’t get to be kind, or understanding, or play the bigger man. It simply wasn’t fair. “I...thank you, Marc. But I’ll be here as always.”
“Because...?”
“I need the money.”
“Right.” He smiled. “I guess that settles it then. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Yes.” More confused than ever, especially since his eyes still had that warm glow, she started out.
“Don’t forget the rules of your position here.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She waved her hand over her head to punctuate her words.
Smiling at her retreating back, Marc watched Laney saunter through the lobby, saucy attitude in every step she took. Unable to take his eyes off her, and not caring who saw him staring, he waited until she walked out of the hotel before motioning for Hank to join him.
“Yeah, boss?”
“You know what to do.”
Hank straightened. “You want me to follow her all the way home this time? Or only part of the way like last night?”
Just as he had every evening he’d given the order, Marc puzzled over his reluctance to send Hank on the errand at all. He wanted to know where Laney lived. But what if he found out he’d been right about her all along? What if she lived on The Row, after all?
Then again, what if Trey was right, and Marc had misjudged her? What if the woman needed his help, not his mistrust?
One way or another, the time had come to end the mystery that was Laney O’Connor. “Follow her the whole way.”
* * *
A shadow rode in her wake. Out of the corner of her eye, Laney watched a hulking form dart in and then back out of the alley immediately to her left.
Hank. He’d heeled her ever since she’d first left the Hotel Dupree. She’d like to think Marc had sent his man to follow her for her protection. But from his parting shot, she figured the handsome hotel owner wanted to find out whether or not she was breaking any of his precious rules.
That brief moment of concern he’d displayed in his office must have been an illusion. Shaking off a sudden wave of melancholy at the thought, she considered her options. She could lose Hank easily enough. Sure, he was big and scary on first sight, but under all that gruffness and hard muscle was a gentle heart. With a little charm Laney might be able to get Hank to talk.
Perhaps she could find out why Marc had sent the man to follow her.
Heading down the next alley, she melted deep into the shadows. Hank entered a moment after her. Tentatively looking around, he leaned to his right and squinted into the inky black. Shaking his head, he squinted harder and continued forward with a large show of hesitation.
Laney waited until he was directly next to her. “Looking for me?”