Painted Lady

by Roxy Harte

  Behind her, very close behind her, Thunder cleared his throat. Jumping, she turned around and bumped into him. Her hand fell on his chest, and she used him for balance. For a moment she thought he might kiss her, but he took a step back. The muscle in his jaw twitched, and she recognized the glint of lust in his eyes. “I'll assume this will be your room?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, breathless at his nearness.

  He nodded. “My room is at the top of the stairs, facing the street. If there's trouble, I should know about it before you.”

  Lucy caught his gaze and held it for a moment longer than was appropriate, feeling a strange, languid heaviness tug at her limbs. Deep within, an ache was building, making her want to wrap herself around him. She wanted to unbutton his shirt and feel the smooth skin beneath. This is what lust feels like. She knew the validity of her thoughts as easily as she knew he was feeling the same thing.

  Another step forward and her breasts were pressed against his chest. His heat seared her.

  She knew she should be considering consequences. She knew Emma would have had a fit, following so many long conversations into the night over what a woman's purity would mean to her husband. Maybe all that talk was true for women of value, women who had a place in society, but she'd been a slave and was fast learning how different her life would be from Emma's when Oliver had first insisted she allow him to protect her.

  Daniel, too, had protected her, but that protection had come at a cost. No, not only did she have no regrets, about Oliver or Daniel, but she also felt she hadn't had a choice.

  For the first time in her life, she did. She wanted to sate her lust on the man standing in front of her. She felt caught in a dream as she reached and grazed her fingers over his smooth jaw. She felt like she was dreaming as she pulled his face toward her and offered him her lips. For a single glorious moment they brushed together in a tender kiss, but he pulled away; his dark eyes widened. His chest went still beneath the press of her breasts, and she believed that he, like she, was having a hard time remembering how to breathe.

  She braced herself for the uncontrollable lust she knew was coming.

  He didn't move, not a single inch. He didn't wrap her in his arms. He didn't make an attempt to remove any of her clothes or his.

  Breathing hard, her confidence wavered, but then his head ducked nearer, and she felt his desire whisper over her skin. Emboldened, she licked her lips and pressed her mouth to his, enticing him to succumb to temptation, and was thrilled when he responded. His arms swept around her, crushing her tight as his mouth pressed hard, his breath ragged on her face. His tongue filled her mouth, shooting need through her core. Pure, raw lust drove her to push her hands against his chest, to feel her way to the button closure of his shirt. Pushing the bits of carved bone through the buttonholes, she revealed flesh.

  Pulling away, she looked to where her hands were running over his skin, finding him finely muscled. A narrow line of fine dark hair led her gaze lower, to where it disappeared beneath the band of his pants. She traced the silken hair as far down as she could. He exhaled with a hissed curse, and she met his gaze, finding his eyes filled with a lovely wickedness. When he turned from her, she thought he was going to lock the bedroom door, but he passed through the threshold and kept walking until she heard his boots creaking on the stairs.

  What just happened?

  She pouted, falling back to sit on the wide windowsill. She looked down at herself, her hands shaking, her legs too weak to stand. She obviously had a lot to learn about men.

  It took a moment for Lucy to get her wits about her. Hanging out the window and inhaling great gulps of air helped, but when she pulled herself back inside, worry and fear assailed her again. She'd been happier when she'd been distracted by lust; now the reality of her situation was descending with the setting sun. She had so many questions. Where would she buy supplies? What had happened to the women who once called these empty rooms home? Would she be able to control the rowdy men determined to destroy her place? How in the hell was she ever going to run a bordello if she couldn't seduce one man? Wait. What? Was she really pondering reopening the bordello?

  First things first: she needed to protect her assets.

  Picking up her skirts, she hurried down the stairs and saw lanterns were already lit, floors had been swept, and broken chairs had been removed. She looked around the room happily; it wasn't nearly as bad as she had first believed. Thunder was talking to a man she didn't recognize. Since the man was holding a broom and smiling broadly in her direction, she thought she ought to find out who he was. Smoothing down her skirt, she joined them. Thunder introduced the man as Georgie. “He was the bartender here until the place closed. He's hoping the new owner might be interested in hiring him back.”

  Lucy looked him over. He was clean but needed a shave. “You took it upon yourself to straighten this place up?”

  “Yes'm.”

  “What exactly were your responsibilities for the previous owner?”

  “Cleaned, served, ordered stock, kept the riffraff under control, kept a watch over the girls on the floor, and made certain no one got anything fer free.” He winked. “If ya know what I mean.”

  Lucy considered her options and acknowledged someone who already knew the trade routes would come in handy. “Seems like too much for one man to handle.”

  “I managed.”

  “Yet the hotel was foreclosed on.”

  The man looked down at his feet. “There was some poor investments and—”

  Lucy knew the foreclosure couldn't be blamed on an employee, same as she knew a bad crop yield couldn't be laid solely on slaves working a field. “You know where the owner kept his books?”

  “Yep, but he burned them right after the Colonel skipped town.”

  She didn't even want to know why.

  With a look of optimism, Georgie volunteered. “I know where he kept his debt ledger. It didn't get burned.”

  Lucy became worried. “He owed a lot of people?”

  “Yes, but that ain't the ledger I'm talking about. Most the men in this town keep a tab. Way I see it, new management has the right to collect a debt before serving.”

  Thunder coughed. “Sounds like a good way to run a man off to the competition.”

  Georgie smiled widely. “Only saloon in twenty miles. Only doves in seventy.”

  Lucy patted the man on the back. “I like the way you think, Georgie, but do you think you are going to have any problems working for me? A woman? A Negro woman.”

  “You gonna pay me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then I don't have any problem working fer you, ma'am.”

  “Can I ask you a question, Georgie?”

  “Reckon so.”

  “Why aren't you chasing gold?”

  He shook his head. “Had the fever once, lost everything that ever meant a thing to me: wife, children, my farm. Don't care much if it ever bites me again.”

  “Show me that ledger, and we'll discuss your wage. Then you might tell me where the women who used to work here are hiding.”

  A commotion on the street, gunshots ringing out, drew her gaze for only a minute. When she saw Thunder head outside, she turned her attention back to Georgie and all she could learn from him. It turned out the men in the town owed the saloon a small fortune. “You know all these men?”

  “Sure do.”

  “They show up, you collect; if they don't want to pay, let me know.” She started to walk away but then turned back around. “Why did you come back?”

  “I needed the work, but you're right thinking it's something more.”

  Lucy waited.

  “One of the girls left soon as there were rumors of trouble. Guess I'm hoping she might come back.”

  Lucy thought she could understand that. She hadn't seen Daniel all afternoon, and despite the excitement she'd had, she still missed him sorely. Outside, dusk was falling, another reminder he was gone from her life. She hadn't spent a night
where she wasn't wrapped in his arms. Stop it! Whiskey for the saloon needed to be her first concern. She hated thinking about more broken chairs or any more holes in the walls. A clank behind her made her look. Georgie was polishing glasses, and he'd already staged a few bottles of whiskey on the back shelf. He winked, making her smile. Everything was going to be all right.

  “Lucy!” Daniel pushed through the doors bellowing her name and had raced halfway up the staircase before he realized he'd run right past her. Looking down at her, he did a double take. “Lucy?”

  He walked back down the staircase at a much-slower pace. He seemed like he'd been knocked out cold and was still dazed, only recovering when he was standing right in front of her. He grabbed her and shook her so hard, her teeth rattled. “What are you thinking? Get outside. Now!”

  Seeing double, maybe triple from being shaken so hard, her vision didn't have to clear for her to realize the click she heard was attached to a pistol pushed up to Daniel's temple.

  “Stop. Stop!” she exclaimed, worried Thunder would pull the trigger. She didn't have to see his face to know it was him, but when her vision finally settled down, both men were staring at her. Daniel's fingers were still digging into her shoulders, and her skin was screaming. “Let me go. Put down the gun.”

  Daniel's hands dropped to his sides.

  Thunder didn't lower his weapon.

  Lucy glared at Thunder, and he smiled in return.

  “Please?”

  His eyes narrowed, looking at her intently. His fingers traced a mark on her shoulder she believed would bruise. “He is intent on harming you.”

  “I'm here to save you! Come with me to the ranch. You don't have to demean yourself by working here,” Daniel begged her.

  Thunder erupted in laughter and lowered his gun. He gave Lucy a look meaning more than she could figure out, but she focused on Daniel. Concerned about how he was going to react once he discovered the truth, Lucy took his hand and pulled him to a quiet corner. He refused to sit with her when she sat at a table. “I won't allow you to stay here.”

  “Daniel.” She didn't know where to begin. “I thought you were gone.”

  “To the ranch. I've been waiting for you all day.”

  His words hurt, but she didn't quite understand why. “You and your men. I told you I wouldn't join you there.”

  His face was a mask of anger, hurt, and confusion. “You were worried about your reputation, and yet you are working here?”

  “Daniel. I own this hotel.”

  He sat, barely making the edge of the chair. Lucy tried to not find humor in the situation but had to fight the giggle bubbling inside her. Over Daniel's shoulder, she saw Georgie watching while he rubbed a glass with a bar towel. She believed he'd probably been rubbing the same glass since Daniel'd arrived. Thunder was watching too and had leaned against the bar. The two men were whispering, no doubt about her. She was unnerved by the way Daniel was looking at her. “Aren't you going to say anything?”

  He looked her up and down, and she didn't like the way his scrutiny was making her feel. He stood, having come to some kind of mental conclusion he wasn't sharing, and walked away. Confused, Lucy jumped to her feet and followed him. She reached him as he was climbing into his saddle. “Daniel?”

  He tossed a canvas bag, and it landed at her feet. She didn't need him to tell her what was in the bag. Her share of the booty. She didn't expect him to toss a second bag.

  He looked down at her. “You need a bath, a new dress, and maybe buy some expensive perfume.”

  “What?”

  “You stink, your hair is filthy, and your dress is torn. If you're going to have sex with every man in town, at least clean yourself up so you get top dollar.” Daniel reined his horse around and rode hard out of town. Unexpected emotion Lucy lurched into her throat and made it impossible to think or breathe. Oh God. He's gone for good this time.

  Chapter Seven

  Thunder waited, then waited longer than he had ever thought he could. He knew she hadn't left. He also knew the look in her eyes said she'd wished she could when she ran out of the bar after the man. “Another one of those Ayer's sarsaparillas, Georgie.”

  The man smiled. “Told you it would cure what ails you. Just got a case in before all hell broke loose around here, and didn't have a chance to try it on anyone. I thought it tasted right good for medicine.”

  “Thought you said it was a hangover tonic?”

  “It is. It is. Advertisement sent with the box says it's good for your kidneys and cures dyspepsia.”

  “Dyspepsia?”

  “I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure that's Latin for hangover.”

  Thunder belched. “Well, I feel better than I did an hour ago. So, thank you.”

  Georgie was pouring another sarsaparilla when Lucy, head hanging low, joined him at the bar. She dropped two bundles too bulky for her to carry easily at her feet and barely waited for him to finish pouring when she snatched the glass and tossed the liquid back. Her eyes were squinted tight, and her face was scrunched as if anticipating a horrible taste. She smacked her lips and opened her eyes. “That's pretty good whiskey.”

  “That wasn't whiskey; that was hangover tonic,” Thunder told her.

  “I won't get drunk on that, will I?”

  Georgie cocked his chin to the side, answering, “Nah. Cure anything ailing you, though,” before leaving the bar to light the outside lamps. “Maybe if we look open, we'll draw a crowd in.”

  “I'm not sick.” Lucy put her hands on her hips.

  Thunder poured himself another glass of sarsaparilla and looked over the rim of his glass before drinking. “Look heartsick to me.”

  “Well, I'm not.”

  “Huh.” He drained the glass and nodded at her parcels. “Need those carried up to your room?”

  She nodded, her lip pouting out. Thunder picked up the bags and headed for the stairs. “Well, come on.”

  She started to follow but was stopped by a tall man, seeming both too thin and too lanky. Once he may have had a full head of copper-bright hair, but as he was now, his thin hair fell in long strings around his face, the pate being as shiny bare as a new baby's bottom. He clutched his hat to his chest, seeming overly earnest. “Ma'am?”

  Thunder didn't go any farther, waiting to see what the man wanted, though as it was, he didn't appear armed.

  “Yes?” Lucy asked.

  “Name's Clancy. Afore, I was the piano man here, I was hoping—”

  “You're hired.”

  “Wanna hear me play something?”

  She nodded. “Yes, please. You can start immediately. I think folks need to know we're open for business. Play something lively, will ya?”

  The man hurried to the piano stool and started playing a popular tune.

  As the melody filled the room, Lucy burst into tears and raced upstairs to her room, leaving Thunder little else to do but follow her. He found her lying facedown on the bed.

  Wishing he knew what to say or do, he decided her tears weren't going to make anything better, so dropped her bags on the bed, jarring her. Wiping her face, she rolled off the bed and went to the window and looked outside. He wished he could read her mind. He wondered how in the hell she'd ever hooked up with Dangerous Dan. She obviously wasn't a thief or a whore; she was too innocent by far for either, but she'd come by enough money to buy the hotel by some means, and he doubted it was legally. She seemed cunning, though. Had she finagled Dan out of the money? He'd met enough women to know a smart one couldn't be trusted, and she was obviously intelligent. He sat between the canvas bags. “Want to talk about it?”

  Lucy looked askance. “It would hardly be proper for me to confide in you; you being a stranger, a man, and—”

  “You kissed me. That opened the door for all manner of impropriety.”

  Thunder enjoyed seeing her flush. He hadn't meant to embarrass her but was glad he had, because it confirmed his earlier suspicions.

  Lucy busied herself, opening the
first canvas bag and removing dozens of elaborate gowns. Thunder didn't consider himself an expert on female clothing but would wager his last nickel the fashions were from Paris and had cost a pretty penny. When she started removing all manner of elaborate corsetry from the second bag, he began to doubt again. She just didn't seem like any of the soiled doves he'd met before.

  Sighing heavily, she sat on the opposite side of the bed, clutching one of the corsets to her middle. To Thunder's horror, she burst into tears. “It's ruined. Everything is absolutely ruined.”

  Thunder picked up one of the gowns and realized it was wet. “They're damp, but I think they'll dry out just fine.”

  She looked over her shoulder at him, meeting his gaze, her eyes filled with hope. “You really think so?”

  He smiled. “I do.”

  He stood, then crossed the room and pulled a wire that had been hidden from one wall to the opposite wall. He threw open both windows, allowing a breeze to flow in, and started hanging the dresses over the wire.

  “Seems you know an awful lot about the inside of a hotel room. I'd have never known what that wire was for.”

  “I know a lot about this particular hotel's bedrooms.” Seeing her questioning glance, he chose not to elaborate and instead reminded her of his original question. “You looked like you lost your best friend earlier. Is that what happened?”

  Lucy shrugged. “Daniel rescued me and helped me get here. I guess he isn't happy with the choices I've made since I arrived on California soil.”

  Thunder waited for her to say more, but she didn't, and he wasn't entirely certain he wanted the details. It wouldn't take much provocation to put a bullet through Dangerous Dan's heart.