by Renee Ryan
“Not today.” Not ever.
“You are a man of phenomenal willpower.”
Tired of the game, Marc shifted his weight to a more intimidating stance. “Let’s get to the point. I’m looking for Julia. Is she here?”
Her eyes darted to the staircase then back to him. She couldn’t quite hide the satisfaction in her smile. “Did you say Julia?”
“She’s here, isn’t she? I see it in that smug smile of yours.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Let’s make this simple, I want to know if Julia is still one of my employees, or if she’s back to working for you.”
“You know, Marc, this is the second time in less than a week you’ve come looking for a woman. Having a hard time keeping track of your girls?”
“I was looking for Laney O’Connor for a very different reason.”
“Personal reasons?”
“You could say that.”
Mattie locked eyes with his, interest fringing the edges of her gaze. “I knew you had a secret. But I never thought it was...that.” A giggle danced from her lips.
“You know Miss O’Connor?”
After a final searching glance of his face, her expression cleared. “Now, I didn’t say that I did and I didn’t say that I didn’t.”
This was far too familiar territory. He’d gotten this exact behavior from every other madam on The Row. What he didn’t understand was why the tight-lipped runaround? “So what you’re saying is that you know her, but you won’t tell me how you know her.”
“My, you are a smart man.”
“What is it about that woman that keeps all you madams on The Row so determined to remain discreet? Does she have something on you? Is she a blackmailer?”
“Laney? You must be joking.”
“So you do know her. Is she a crib girl?”
“You mean to tell me, you really don’t know what she does and why?”
Marc took another step toward Mattie, using the difference in their heights to make his point. “Are you planning to continue this game or are you going to solve this mystery for me here and now?”
Nonplused, Mattie took another sip of her champagne. “You’re going to have to find this one out on your own, you arrogant brute.” She tapped a finger on his chin. “It’ll serve you right for stealing my Ruth and Lizzie with promises of legitimacy. But, at least I have Jul...” Covering her mouth with two fingers, she fluttered her lashes. “Oops, it almost slipped.”
“I knew it. Julia is here.”
“Of course she is, silly man. You can’t change a woman like her. I predict Ruth and Lizzie will be back as well.”
“Don’t count on it.”
Marc swallowed his disappointment. He’d lost another woman to the allure of fine clothes, expensive champagne and the illusion of glamour Mattie offered. Three in one month.
Well, Julia was the last. As long as he owned a means to save these women from themselves, he’d fight to keep the rest straight. Especially Ruth and Lizzie.
“Oh, look. I’ve upset you.” Mattie rose to her full height, pressed her palm against his chest and pushed him back a step. “But you’re in luck. Since I’m feeling generous this afternoon I’ll give you a little hint about your Laney.”
Not trusting himself to speak, Marc held his tongue.
“You’re looking in the wrong place. She doesn’t live here on The Row.”
His heart soared. Could Trey have been right about Laney? “You mean, she’s not a—”
“Oh, you have the right idea. Sort of. Well, not really, at least not the complete right idea.”
Marc felt the muscles in his jaw tighten, and his nerves bowed to near snapping. “Could you confuse me any more?”
“I could, but like I said, I’m feeling generous this morning.”
“Afternoon, Mattie. It’s early afternoon.”
Jack came up from behind Mattie and whispered in her ear.
Eyes narrowing, she shook her head violently. “No, not now.” She flicked a sideways glance at Marc. “Just keep her in her room until I’m through here.”
“Julia?”
Pretending confusion, Mattie cocked her head to the left. “Julia, Laney, which woman were you looking for again?”
“Either. Both.”
A crash shot out from a back room, followed by a feminine wail of anger. Mattie grasped Marc’s arm and directed him toward the door. “So good to see you. We’ll have to finish our discussion some other time.” At the sound of another crash, Mattie released Marc and nodded to her bouncer. “Jack, please show Mr. Dupree the way out.”
She was already hustling off in the direction of the commotion by the time Marc asked, “What’s the hurry?”
Knowing the question fell on deaf ears, he turned to go. But a familiar voice washed over him, and he spun back around.
“Mattie, Jack, where are you? I need some fresh water for Sally and—”
The words stopped abruptly.
Unable to stop himself, Marc steered his gaze toward the staircase. His eyes locked onto Laney O’Connor. He’d never experienced true torment before. Until this moment.
For days he’d hoped against hope. He’d put off finding concrete answers. But now he had to face the truth.
Laney was one of Mattie’s girls.
The reality of how close he’d come to losing his objectivity—again—over a woman—again—struck him to the core.
In one word he managed to convey all the anger, the pain and the disappointment he felt. “You.”
Wide-eyed, Laney continued to stare at him, unmoving, eyes blinking rapidly. “Marc, please, it’s not what you think.”
Refusing to accept that any of the emotions flitting across the woman’s face warranted consideration, he attacked. “I knew I couldn’t trust you.”
Just as she opened her mouth to respond, Jack took his arm and physically escorted Marc to the front door.
Too stunned to fight, Marc went willingly.
Chapter Fourteen
Several hours after leaving Mattie’s brothel, Laney stood outside the Hotel Dupree, shifting from foot to foot. The wind tugged bits of her hair free from its knot, while pure dread sliced through her.
How could she face Marc after this afternoon? How could she not? She had to explain herself, had to make him understand that her presence in Mattie’s brothel wasn’t as scandalous he thought.
Would he be willing to listen?
As if to mock her agitated mood, day inched slowly into night, dragging a ribbon of blues, pinks and purples behind it.
Needing a moment to gather her thoughts—and her courage—Laney turned toward the distant peaks. No comfort came from the mountains’ snowcapped beauty. Only more apprehension. The memory of Marc’s eyes when their gazes had connected, the condemnation and disappointment, made Laney’s heart grew heavier, and more troubled than before.
All her lies, all her deceptions had caught up with her in a single moment of recognition.
What did you expect? a tiny voice chided. You’ve intentionally misled him every day of your brief acquaintance.
In her attempt to keep Marc away from Charity House she’d allowed him to think the worst of her.
Having spent the last three hours coming to terms with her unrequited feelings for Marc, she’d gained insight into the future that lay before her. Like a barren cloud blowing over a parched field, promising much but producing little, any chance of earning Marc’s respect had disappeared.
That didn’t mean she wouldn’t try.
The soft glow of light and low murmurs flowing from the hotel lobby compelled Laney forward in a strange, mesmerizing summons. Answering the call, she entered through the revolving doors.
As if he’d been waiting for her arrival, Hank drew alongside her. “Mr. Dupree wants to see you in his office.”
She smiled up at him. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“Just doing my job.” His accompanying scowl warned her he
hadn’t yet forgiven her for the trick she’d played on him in the alley.
In serious need of a friend, she grabbed his arm. “Hank, wait. I’m sorry about last night. I know you won’t believe this, but I had to lose you.”
A myriad of emotions waltzed across his features before his lips cracked into a tentative smile. “I understand.”
“I’m glad. One day, I’ll explain my actions fully.”
“When you’re ready.”
Well, at least she’d healed one relationship. “Thank you for understanding.”
His face reddened. “Go on,” he urged. “Mr. Dupree won’t bite.”
“I wish I had your confidence.”
He nudged her forward. “You’re better off facing him sooner rather than later.”
If only that were true. As the shut office door loomed ahead of her, several concerns grappled against one another. What would she do if Marc fired her, before she’d earned enough money to pay off the interest on her loan?
What if he found out about Charity House, would he threaten to shut her down as Prescott was trying to do?
As nerve-racking as Laney found that unlikely possibility, another, more selfish, concern rose to the top of her fears. How could she face Marc, knowing the feelings she had for him were too strong to deny? And how could she keep from begging him to feel for her a tiny portion of what she felt for him?
With each step she sent up a silent prayer for courage, but she doubted God listened with a sympathetic ear. She’d done enough in the last few weeks to ensure that the Lord turned away from her. If not for good, at least for now.
Aware of how very alone she felt, Laney rolled her trembling fingers into a fist then knocked twice on Marc’s office door.
“Enter.”
A wave of white-hot terror slithered through her stomach, but somehow she managed to trek into the room.
With his attention riveted on one of the photographs on the mantel, Marc didn’t turn around. “Shut the door.”
She did as he commanded and waited for him to face her directly. When he finally turned and met her gaze, she wished he’d kept his back to her a little while longer. Although his expression held little emotion, his clenched jaw and muscle ticking in the side of his throat told of the battle that waged inside him.
“I see you wore the black dress.” He spoke in a near whisper, but the underlying misery in his tone shouted at her to cross the space between them and beg him to listen to her side of the story.
She stayed rooted to the spot. “I’ve come to work my shift as usual.”
He skimmed his gaze over her and the expression in his eyes changed, turning shattered, as though the world had let him down one too many times.
Heart hammering against her ribs, head whirling with sorrow, Laney could hardly keep from rushing forward and pulling him into her arms. She wanted to soothe away his agony and perhaps end a little of hers as well. Staring at him now, feeling his pain as though it were her own she could deny the truth no longer—she was falling in love with Marc Dupree. And like a dangerous reef that shipwrecked the mightiest of boats, she knew her feelings for this man could easily destroy her.
As his eyes held hers, silently communicating the full of his disappointment, her soul died a silent death—one she feared was the first of many more to come.
“Do you remember the rules of your employment?” His voice dripped inside the stiff tension between them.
She nodded. “I am to live a clean, wholesome life. No drinking, no cheating, no lying, and no stealing.” Surprised at how clear and strong the words came out of her mouth, she continued. “I’m to partake in no unseemly behavior, either here or outside this hotel.”
“And yet you’re standing in my office, after what happened this afternoon in Mattie’s brothel.”
“Yes. I have broken none of your rules.”
He searched her face, his eyebrows drawing together as though he puzzled over what to say next. Laney returned his stare, silently willing him to believe in her just this once.
“Ask me, Marc. Ask me what I was doing at Mattie’s.” Urgency raised her voice a full octave higher than usual. “Then ask me how I’m acquainted with the madam.”
“I don’t want to know why you were there. God help us both, I don’t want to know.” He moved quickly and wrapped his fingers around her shoulders. With one great tug he pulled her in his arms. “Don’t you understand? I can’t know.”
“But it’s not—”
His mouth pressed against hers, cutting off the rest of her words.
For weeks she’d held back her anger, anger at his inability to see who she really was, deep at the core. She’d blamed herself for his misconception. But now her disappointment in him caught up with her anger at herself.
Couldn’t he tell she was different from the women Mattie employed?
Apparently not.
This was not a pleasant kiss, nor was it purely physical. It held more intimacy than she’d ever imagined possible between a man and woman. Her very soul understood this man, better now than ever before. As deep as her anger went, she wanted to soothe the pain she felt in him.
Finally, he pulled his head back. He tried to draw away from her completely, but she wouldn’t let him. Not yet. Not until she proved to him who she really was, not the woman he seemed determined to see.
Cupping his face, Laney put all her answers to his unspoken questions in her gaze. After a moment, she softened her hold and gently touched her lips to his temple then let him go.
Breathing hard, he stared at her. But he didn’t back away.
Progress.
She held his gaze, watching, waiting, praying he understood her silent message declaring her innocence.
Raking a hand through his hair, he stepped back, turned and walked again to the mantel. He ran his finger along the frame of a single photograph, as though drawing strength from the image of the young woman who looked so much like him.
With his attention focused elsewhere, Laney let her eyes rove over him. Her heart swelled with emotion, with something that felt like gratitude.
Despite their turbulent history, Marc Dupree had given her a precious gift these last few weeks. Before meeting him, she’d thought intimacy between a man and woman was dirty, sinful. But now she knew it could be different, maybe even beautiful.
His hand stilled over the frame. “Why were you at Mattie’s?”
Laney took a deep breath, hoping the right words would tumble from her lips. “I had to return the dress I borrowed from one of her girls.” When he didn’t respond, she explained further. “You remember the gold dress I wore that first night we met? It wasn’t mine.”
He spun around and shot her a chilling look, clearly unwilling to believe her. “You weren’t carrying a dress when I saw you this afternoon.”
“No. I’d already returned it.” His raised eyebrow was enough of a question. “Sally, the girl who loaned me the dress, has consumption. When you saw me on the stairs, she’d just had a terrible coughing fit. I’d gone in search of some water to help soothe her throat.”
There. The truth was out.
Would he believe her now? Would he ask for answers to the rest of his questions?
Or would he send her away, with no further chance to explain herself?
Oh, Lord, please, soften Marc’s heart. Help him hear the truth in my words and the ones I can’t say just yet.
* * *
Marc’s heart pitched in his chest. A twisted, ruthless spark of hope rode him hard. Laney had been nursing a sick woman? Could the explanation for her presence in Mattie’s brothel be so simple?
“Do you work for Mattie?”
“No.”
He had to know the rest, had to stop dancing around the real issue and get to the truth at last. “Are you a...prostitute?”
She smiled at him. “No, I am not.”
“Were you ever?”
Her smile deepened, as if she’d been waiting to have her say for a v
ery long time. “Never.”
“Then how do you know Mattie?”
A shadow darkened across her features, but in the next instant she threw her shoulders back and looked him directly in the eye. “Before she died, my mother worked for Mattie.”
“Your mother? Was she a—”
“Yes, she was.” Laney’s voice hitched, but she maintained unrelenting eye contact with him. “I spent most of my childhood traveling from mining camp to mining camp, wherever men were willing to pay for my mother’s time. Eventually she grew weary of traveling so she went to work for Mattie.”
“I’m sorry.” He reached out to touch her, to prove he meant every word.
She pushed away from him. “My mother was not a happy woman, nor did she trust anyone but me. You see, Marc, while you were kicking up your heels at fancy balls and parties I was keeping time and collecting money for my mother.”
Unable to bear the pain he saw in Laney’s yes, Marc reached out to touch her again.
She shook her head and held up a hand to stop his pursuit. “Don’t. We have to finish this now.”
As much as he wanted never to speak on this topic again, he knew she was right. Just because she wasn’t a prostitute didn’t mean she wasn’t associated with the business on some level.
Although he had a strong suspicion that wasn’t the case, Marc still had to ask the toughest question of all. “The money you took from Judge Greene, was it to start your own brothel?”
She gave him a blank look. “Is that what you thought? That I needed money to open a...a...brothel?”
“Why else would you need that much money?”
As soon as the words left his mouth he finally understood their absurdity. From the start, he’d measured Laney against Pearl. Not because she was like his wife, but because he’d been afraid to see the truth. Laney had stepped into his hotel and stolen his breath the moment he’d laid eyes on her. He’d lost trust in his own objectivity years before. So, instead of sorting through his initial impressions of her, as well as his attraction, he’d assumed the worst.
Her next words stamped across his guilty conscience. “There are a lot of things money can buy besides a brothel.”
She had every right to her anger, but he wasn’t through. He had to know the rest. “Then why did you need the money?”