by Faye Hall
“I need you to go see Lotte. If she’s going to do this tonight, make sure she’s doing it for the right reasons.”
Waiting until the madam nodded and walked away, Patrick continued on his way back to where Devon was seated at the bar.
“I spoke to the madam, and the girl you asked for is being readied now, Devon,” Patrick said as he stopped in front of Devon. “She’s unlike any other, certainly unlike any girl that has worked here before.” Noting Devon’s seeming disinterest, Patrick continued. “She’s got light reddish hair and crystal blue eyes. Curves that would make a grown man weep. When she speaks to you, her husky, sweet tone, it near makes a man shiver.”
“Surprised she’s not booked out for the night,” Devon commented, staring into his glass of brandy.
Patrick smiled at his assumption. “This woman is very particular. She won’t go to just any man, no matter how much money he throws at her.”
“What if she changes her mind?” Devon asked. “About me, I mean.”
“She won’t,” Patrick reassured him. “I’ve gone to see her myself and she assures me she’s more than happy to spend the whole night with you, if such is your wish.”
* * * *
Stepping out of her bath, Lotte began slowly drying herself, her thoughts never far from the man waiting for her downstairs. Four years ago she would have welcomed knowing that Devon Munroy was waiting for her downstairs, but now…
Lotte wanted more than anything to go see Devon after the shooting, but she knew the risk she would run both to her own life and that of her brother’s if she had. When finally she was well enough and was sure she could sneak out to see Devon, Lotte was told the most painful of truths—Devon had married Elizabeth Fanti.
It was then Lotte knew that to Devon she had to remain dead. If it were ever discovered she had survived the shooting, the hunt on her life would continue. Elizabeth wouldn’t stop until she was dead. But for tonight there was no Elizabeth, nor any other dangers. There was only Devon.
Despite the passionate past she shared with Devon, Lotte couldn’t ignore how nervous she was about the night ahead. She had to give Devon something tonight, some part of her that he wouldn’t be able to soon forget, but she also needed to keep her true identity secret from him and somehow hide the scar that forever haunted her.
Finishing drying herself, Lotte slipped on a lace-trimmed camisole and a pair of knee-length undershorts. Turning, she looked at her reflection in the mirror.
She had changed so much in the last few years with the help of the girls who worked at the hotel. Lotte learned how to lighten the natural reddish color of her long hair with lemon juice. They also taught her ways with makeup that would help her cover up her scar. Her skin was now not so pale, having darkened naturally in the sun from the many visits Lotte made to the waterhole near her old home.
Lotte had changed so much since she had last seen Devon, but standing there now, looking at her own reflection, she knew she was still the same girl who fell in love with Devon Munroy years ago. This was the girl she needed to make him remember tonight.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Lotte began wondering if she was indeed strong enough to spend the night with Devon and not confess all to him as she lay in his arms.
Suddenly, a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.
“Lotte, honey, it’s Abby,” the madam called to her. “Can I come in?”
“Y-yes, Abby.”
The madam entered, closing the door behind her. “Well, don’t you look the part?”
Going to Lotte, the madam stood behind her straightening her clothes. She ran her fingers along Lotte’s hair, which hung loosely down her back to her hips.
“Devon’s waiting for you downstairs,” Abby said, glancing at Lotte’s reflection in the mirror before them.
Lotte tried to avoid the woman’s watchful eyes. “How much has he drank?”
The madam shrugged as she continued to groom her. “A glass or two of brandy.”
Lotte went silent, thinking on the madam’s words. She didn’t want Devon to be drunk when he came to her, but she needed to be able to convince him that she really was his lost love back from the dead.
“Honey, are you sure you’re doing this for the right reasons?” Abby asked, her fingers stilling, her stare rising to hold Lotte’s in the mirror.
Lotte finally returned her gaze to the mirror, her eyes going to that of the madam’s reflected behind her. “I miss him, Abby.”
Letting the hair fall free, Abby’s hands went to Lotte’s shoulders, squeezing them affectionately. “Patrick is worried that you’re doing this to get revenge on Elizabeth.”
“I hate her. She tried to kill me. She tried to kill Patrick. She succeeded in killing my father.”
Abby looked serious. “And she married the man you love?”
Lotte nodded. “She has spent the last four years with Devon, her words convincing him of whatever she needs him to believe. She has been the woman he has shared a bed with for far longer than he and I were ever together.”
“You need to make Devon remember what you shared with each other,” Abby hinted.
Lotte felt sadness filling her. “Devon didn’t come here tonight to remember. He came here tonight for a whore, and a whore is what I’ll play for him.”
Abby shook her head. “He never comes here for my girls. He comes here to drink and to tell Patrick about the woman he loved, the woman he shot and killed.”
“Devon loves a memory, nothing more. I’m not that girl anymore.”
Abby leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “You need to remind Devon of the girl you used to be, Lotte. You need to remind yourself.”
Lotte could feel tears threatening. “What if Devon doesn’t want to remember what we once shared with each other? What if all he really wants is some nameless face to release his lust on?”
Reaching up to the younger woman’s face, Abby moved loose tendrils back from her face. “Are you scared Devon won’t care to recognize you, Lotte? Or are you scared to discover that’s exactly why here’s come here tonight?”
Lotte bit her lip nervously. “He’s changed so much, Abby. Devon isn’t the man I remember.”
The madam eyed her suspiciously. “How can you be so sure? You barely glanced at him for a second out there.”
Realizing what she had just admitted to, Lotte froze.
“You’ve not just been seeing Devon Munroy in the town or in this hotel have you, Lotte?” Abby asked. “You’ve been sneaking into his house to see him, haven’t you?”
“He has no idea it’s me. I swear, Abby,” Lotte pleaded with the madam to understand. “Besides, I’ve done little more than follow him around the streets a few times. Followed him to the waterhole near my father’s estate a few times too.”
Abby looked at her disbelievingly. “So you’ve never been to his house then?” she asked again.
Lotte didn’t answer her, knowing that if she did, it would be a lie.
“You have been sneaking into his house!” the madam cried, her disbelief obvious. “What if you were seen, Lotte? What if Elizabeth had seen you? Or worse, what if your brother were to ever learn of what you’ve been doing? What do you think Patrick would do?”
“I threatened to tan her hide,” her brother said from the now open doorway. “Damn it, Lotte, what the hell were you thinking?”
“Patrick,” Lotte said, knowing she needed to make her brother understand her reasons for what she’d done. “You already know that I’ve been to see Devon.”
“I do, but you agreed it was too dangerous to let anyone else know you lived!” Patrick yelled. “We agreed for the sake of your safety and for what remained of our family, your survival would remain hidden from the townspeople in case the truth ever got back to Elizabeth!”
“Damn it, Patrick! I can’t be expected to stay inside this hotel for the rest of my life hiding from that woman!” Lotte tried, desperate to defend herself.
Patrick was obv
iously furious. “You will if you want to live! Damn it, Lotte, do you want to die? Do you want Elizabeth to find you again? To kill you again?”
Tears welled in Lotte’s eyes. “I don’t want to die, Patrick, but nor do I want to be a prisoner the rest of my life!”
“You are not a prisoner, Lotte.”
A tear fell from her eye. “Then why do I feel like one?”
Patrick looked at his sister. “Is that why you’re going through with tonight?”
Lotte turned away from her brother and toward the madam. “You can go tell Devon I’m ready for him, Abby.”
The madam nodded, quickly moving herself past Patrick and out of the door.
Patrick’s disgust was obvious. “Is there nothing I can say that can change your mind about going through with tonight?”
Lotte stood strong, trying to hold her head high. “My mind is made up, Patrick.”
“Is this man really worth risking your life for again?” he asked.
Lotte tried to hold her tears at bay. “I miss him, Patrick. I miss what we had.”
Listening as Patrick stormed out of the room, Lotte knew she couldn’t make him understand how important tonight was to her.
Chapter 14
“The girl you asked for is waiting for you upstairs, Mr. Munroy.”
Devon glanced over his shoulder to see the brightly dressed madam standing behind him, her deep red hair hanging loosely around her shoulders. Standing, he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled forth a wad of money. Without a second thought, he threw all the notes on the counter.
“Devon, this is more than twice what you owe me,” Patrick exclaimed as he grabbed the money and began to count.
Devon shrugged. “It’s only money.”
“You may want to hand me the rest of your fortunes after you lay with the girl upstairs. You might just find the woman you’ve been grieving for all these years,” Patrick said.
“Follow me, Mr. Munroy,” Abby said, grabbing Devon’s hand and pulling him behind her.
“Enjoy your night, Devon.”
Devon nodded at the bartender’s words as he turned and followed the madam up the stairs. Part of him hoped Patrick was right and he would have a night unlike any other with the woman that was waiting for him. Part of him knew that, even whilst he laid with the woman waiting for him, he would continue to be haunted by memories from his past. But he had to go through with tonight. He had to try and find any woman who could fill the gap in his heart and in his bed.
“You’ve chosen a most excellent woman, Mr. Munroy,” the madam softly said, glancing over her shoulder back at him.
Devon smiled at her words. “I appreciate what you and Patrick are trying to do for me, Abby. But we all know this woman won’t be who I truly want. She won’t be Lotte Higgins.”
The madam stalled. “I can guarantee you, the woman I’ve readied for you will give you so much more than just memories of your lost love.”
Devon studied the madam, wondering about her remark.
“The girl is waiting for you,” Abby said. Turning around, she continued up the stairs.
Stopping behind the madam outside the door to the room, Devon felt his nerves getting the better of him. He didn’t want to be there for this reason, still he knew he had to be. The young woman he saw with the red hair out on the hotel floor was the first woman that had managed to stir even the slightest of emotions in him in years, emotions he thought were long dead.
Though Devon dreaded the kind of woman he would find behind this door, part of him also welcomed it, hoping the woman inside would be the one he needed to help replace the memories of his dead lover that continued haunting him. Nervously, he straightened his shirt.
“She doesn’t care what you’re wearing, Devon,” Abby muttered as she turned away from him and went to walk back down the stairs. “The girl inside just wants you. She even asked for you by name.”
Devon struggled to make sense of what the madam had just said.
“How did she know my name?” he asked, confused. “I don’t know any of the women here.”
The madam turned back to face him, smiling. “That’s a question you will have to ask her.”
Devon watched as the madam turned away from him and walked back down the stairs. His head swimming with confusion, he hesitantly reached forward, grasping the door handle in his hand and turning it. Opening the door slowly, his breath caught in his throat at who he saw.
Chapter 15
Devon stood staring at the woman before him. Her underclothing fitted snuggly against her body, emphasizing her curves. His heart thudding loudly in his chest, his whole body tensed with anticipation as his gaze focused on this woman’s brilliant red hair.
“Lotte?” he asked, the word barely more than a whisper.
Reminding himself where he was, Devon took a deep breath, hoping to clear his mind. This woman may look like his lost love, but he knew better than most that she couldn’t be Lotte. It was impossible.
His gaze drifted over the redness of her hair and to the crystal blueness of her eyes, and Devon felt his heart again skip a beat and his breath catch in his throat. This woman may not be who he had yearned for these last few years, but maybe she could be the woman he needed now, the one to replace his haunting memories. Calming his raging senses, Devon knew he had to make sense of what he was now seeing.
“Who are you?” he asked the young woman, his words strained.
“Who do you want me to be, Devon?”
He eyed her carefully, well aware of the games working girls played. “The madam said you asked for me by name, but I’m curious to know exactly how you knew who I was.”
She smiled. “You’re a hard man to forget, Devon.”
“You claim to know me?” Devon asked. “So again I ask you, miss, who are you?”
“I’m the woman you told the bartender you wanted.”
Devon shook his head. “You are merely the woman I was asked to pick for the night. The woman I want I can’t have.”
“How come?” she asked.
Devon sighed deeply. “Because she’s dead.”
She slowly stepped toward him. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “She died in my arms nearly four years ago.”
She stopped a breath away from him. “Did you love her?”
Devon nodded, his gaze unfaltering from hers.
She reached out, her fingers slowly pulling at the ties on his shirt. “If you loved this girl so much, why are you here?”
Devon looked up at this woman, his eyes meeting her gaze. Hesitantly, he reached forward, his fingers running along a tendril of her hair. “You look so much like her. Your hair is a little lighter, your skin a little darker, but your eyes…” Shutting his eyes, Devon struggled to stay in control of his emotions. Hesitantly, he opened them to look at her again. “What is your name, honey?”
Her hand fell away from him and back to her side. In that second, Devon thought she looked as nervous as he felt.
Unconsciously, Devon reached out to her, his fingers lightly touching the swell of her breast through the thin garment covering her. Had he not known better, he’d have sworn this woman was Lotte.
“You are so beautiful,” he muttered, more to himself than to be heard. “I’ve seen you before, but I thought you were just a dream. Maybe what Abby said was right. Maybe you are the woman I’ve been looking for.”
Devon studied this woman before him, wondering just who she was and how she could look so much like the woman he had once loved so much.
“Please tell me your name,” he begged, knowing that if he were to go through with this night, he needed to know something about this woman.
She didn’t answer him though, almost as if she were stalling. Devon wondered why she would be so nervous. After all, she did this for a living. Didn’t she?
Devon’s caressing hands moved down a little to her swollen breast, cradling it in his roughened palm. He so wanted this woman to be the woman he’d
once given his heart to, even just to hear her name again. He knew he was torturing himself, but still he asked one last time.
“Please, honey,” he begged again. “I just want to know your name.”
She didn’t move as Devon’s stare held hers, waiting for something, anything.
“They call me Lotte.”
Devon’s eyes narrowed as he studied this woman before him, her softness barely a breath away from him. Without thought, Devon pulled her to him, his lips hungrily taking hers, his hands holding her scantily clad body against him.
Walking her back toward the bed, Devon carefully laid Lotte down, his hand sliding to her thigh, squeezing it. He had waited so many years to be able to lay like this with this woman again. Now she was there with him…
Through the alcohol clouding his mind, Devon reminded himself that this woman couldn’t really be his Lotte, but for now, for tonight, she was. She had to be.
Pulling at her undershorts, Devon ripped the thin fabric from her and threw it to the floor.
“Devon.” Her voice was thick and laced with lust. It was his undoing.
Quickly tearing at the fastenings of his trousers, Devon let his passionate self spring free.
“Please, Devon,” she begged him, her hands busily pushing his now unfastened shirt from his shoulders, her lips hungrily caressing his bare chest.
Being able to hold onto his control no more, Devon held her tight against him, his throbbing self plunging deep inside her moist cleft.
Pleasure engulfing him, Devon slid his hand down the length of her body, his hand going to her knee and lifting her leg higher, allowing himself to penetrate deeper still inside her. Listening to her soft whimpers escaping, her hands resting on his shoulders, her fingernails piercing his skin, Devon couldn’t ignore the intense passion coming from her.
“Please, Devon.” She gasped beneath him. “Oh God.”
His fingers squeezed the soft flesh of her thigh, and he poured himself inside this woman, her own surrender milking his release from him.
Devon held her to him, his weight resting on one of his forearms, his sated shaft still buried inside her. He felt the most intense pleasure with his body joined to hers. It was a feeling unlike any he had ever felt before with anyone.