He could change his habits, get up in the morning, sleep at night, ask his brothers for a respectable job. He threw out that alternative without even thinking about it. He couldn't work with his brothers, and he couldn't think with sunlight streaming down all over the place.
That left him with her suggestion. If he told everybody she was his wife, they'd know to treat her with respect. If they didn't, he'd break their heads. That way she could go places without him having to be at her side every moment. And she was going to go places. He'd never seen a more energetic female in his life.
But that would force him to acknowledge what he had been trying to keep a secret. That would make it virtually impossible to later pretend she'd never been married. Especially with old prudes like Mr. Thoragood and his wife constantly looking over his shoulder. Oh well, he could find Windy and have him register the marriage. At least this way, she'd have the protection of his name.
She would have to divorce him, but maybe that wouldn't be too bad. If she went back East, she could always say she was a widow.
"All right, but you can't wear that dress. You look like an invitation to start a riot."
Chapter Nineteen
Zac's nerves were on edge every minute Lily was in the Little Corner of Heaven. This was the third night she had spent welcoming the customers. She had obediently followed every one of his orders. Well, almost. She had worn a less sensational dress, but she had continued to use make-up to give her face color. Zac had to admit it made her look even more lovely.
It also made him absolutely crazy to have hundreds of men staring at her, lusting after her, fantasizing about her. It had turned him into a madman. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat, and he prowled the aisles of the saloon, growling and snapping at anyone who spoke to him.
He was dressed and downstairs every night before she arrived. He subjected every aspect of her appearance to intense scrutiny. He argued with her, shouted on occasions, threatened to lock her in his office if she didn't change the latest thing that had aroused his anger. She listened calmly to everything he said, dropped some things, changed others, ignored him on a few, and entered the saloon on the dot of seven o'clock.
He followed, cursing women -- especially those named after flowers -- and himself.
The place was packed every night. Word had gotten around, and men lined up at the door before they opened. Zac wasn't sure they gambled more -- at least not until Lily left -- but they sure drank more. The girls had to practically run to keep up with the orders. Once he'd even pressed Julie into service. But she'd looked so uncomfortable at the attention she attracted despite the overly modest dress she wore, he'd sent her back to the kitchen.
"She's very beautiful. You don't deserve her."
Zac whipped around at the sound of Dodie's voice.
"I didn't see you come in." He could tell right away she'd been drinking. She held an empty whiskey glass in her hand. "What are you doing drinking whiskey?"
That hadn't come out the way he'd intended. He was glad to see Dodie back in the saloon. He hoped she'd come back permanently, but he was so frazzled over Lily he hardly knew what he was saying. Now she was talking to some guy who looked like he was straight in from the mines. He didn't look like he'd even stopped to take a bath.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to stay," Dodie said, following the direction of Zac's gaze. "I heard Lily was doing wonders for this place, and I wanted to see for myself. She's much better than I ever was."
Zac could hear the tenor of jealousy, of regret, of resignation, and his heart went out to Dodie. She'd served him faithfully for years. It must be terrible to believe she could be replaced so easily. He wondered if that was why she had gone back to drinking the hard stuff. Instinctively he put his arm around her and drew her to him in a friendly hug.
"Nobody can ever replace you, not even Lily. I have to watch over her every minute. You could hold this place together by yourself from dusk until midnight and still be up next morning checking the books."
"I was a very faithful hound dog," Dodie said, "but you've got something very special now. I hope you realize it."
"I realize she shouldn't be here."
"Then do something about it."
"What? She won't stay at Bella's unless I tie her down."
"Bring me another whiskey, honey," Dodie said to one of the girls hurrying past then turned back to Zac. "I guess you'll figure it out when you're ready."
"Don't you think you've had enough?" Zac said.
"I know when to stop," Dodie assured him. "Don't worry about me. I'll take my drink and sit in the corner. When I'm done, I'll leave."
"What are you doing now?"
"Taking it easy. I decided I needed a little time off."
"I wish you'd come back."
"We both have things we need to work out. You have to do it your way. I have to do it mine." Dodie gestured with her empty glass.
"You know you can always come back, don't you?"
"Sure. I knew that when I left." She took the whiskey the girl handed her. "Now I'm going to find myself a guy who won't be watching his wife the whole time he's talking to me."
Zac turned to face her. "Sorry. I didn't realize."
"I know. You never do when she's around."
Dodie moved away, leaving Zac to digest that remark. He didn't like what it said about him, but he supposed it was true. As long as Lily was out there, he couldn't think of anything else. Half an hour later, Lily looked his way. Zac nodded. It was time for her to go. She obediently brought her conversation to an end and worked her way across the room. She followed him to his office.
"Your cab's waiting," he said as he picked up her cape with the large hood. He never let her leave the saloon without being covered from head to foot.
"I'm not leaving until I get my goodnight kiss," Lily said, a trace of pink coloring her cheeks. "It's the least a wife can expect after slaving all day for her husband."
Zac couldn't decide whether this was his most dreaded or most anticipated moment of the evening. Either way, he decided Lily was using the goodnight kiss as a means of torture. It worked. From the time he came downstairs, he could think of nothing else. Yet when it was time for her to leave, it was the last thing he wanted to do.
It was bad enough to have the world think Lily was his wife and not be able to touch her. He could have muddled through without too much trouble if she'd stayed at Bella's. He might even have gotten through with his sanity after she insisted on coming to the saloon if he'd been able to stay upstairs.
But he couldn't. Just the thought of all those men ogling her, knowing what was going through their minds, was enough to throw him into a killing rage. He had to be downstairs, watching, waiting, a threatening presence to anyone who dared cross the line.
But to have to kiss her and pretend he didn't want to rip off her clothes and make love to her in the middle of the floor, that was more than he could do without a violent struggle.
He didn't try to give her a quick brush on the lips. He'd tried that the first night. By the time she'd made him do it over three times, he felt about to burst into flame from spontaneous combustion.
The second night he'd started with what he hoped was a middle-of-the-road kiss, long sensual, but not so long and sensual that his condition became painful. That hadn't worked. She'd liked it so well, she wanted a second one.
The third night he'd begun with a hot, searing kiss, invading her mouth with his tongue, letting their bodies touch from knee to breast. That had worked. It had left her so shocked she'd let him put her in a cab and send her off before she recovered. The fact that it had taken him hours to regain his equilibrium was something he preferred to keep to himself.
But one look at Lily told him tonight wasn't going to be so simple.
"You confused me last night, then sent me away before I recovered. Why?"
"It was safer."
"What's so dangerous about a kiss? Even Bella says it's all right for married people to kis
s."
"You tell Bella what goes on between us?"
"No, but I did tell her Papa disapproved of kissing. She said it was okay. If that's true, why are you always trying to get rid of me?"
It was a fair question. He couldn't tell her they weren't really married and he didn't want to take advantage of her innocence. Too many people knew of the wedding, and widows weren't expected to be virgins.
He didn't want to even mention why they shouldn't sleep together. She'd probably want a baby, might plead with him to give her one. He was getting dangerously close to the limits of his self-control. That could push him over the edge.
"I don't like to leave the saloon while it's open," he said. "You never know what people are going to do when there's nobody watching."
"It's time you hired somebody to help you. I hardly ever see you. We have no time together."
"I warned you about that when you first came to San Francisco," Zac said, feeling more like a heel all the time. "You get up when I go to bed. You're always going to church, and I won't set foot in the place. Everything about our lives is exactly opposite."
"It doesn't have to be. We could change things. All we have to do it sit down together long enough to talk about it. I'm sure we could work something out. I miss you."
Now she was pulling out the long knives. She was cutting deep, to the only part of him he hadn't been able to dry out and seal over.
"We can't do it now," he said, anxious to go before guilt made him agree to something he'd regret. "I've got to get back on the floor. Chet Lee is out there, and I don't trust him."
"You're not leaving until you kiss me," Lily said.
Zac pulled her to him and gave her a quick kiss. She smiled up at him, a dazzling, seductive smile that rattled him all the way down to his groin.
"You're not leaving me with that pitiful peck and a promise. After last night I know you can do much better. I intend to see that you come up to the mark."
It wasn't hard to take Lily in his arms. There was absolutely no resistance in him to kissing her, be it a brushing of the lips, a nibbling at her ear, or a passionate, open-mouthed kiss. It was all so easy. Her sigh of contentment, the tiny gasp of excitement, the sudden increase in her rate of breathing, were all subtly flattering signs that encouraged him to ignore what he knew to be right and fair and give in to the instincts that shouted at him to make her his own right then and there.
He forgot she was the daughter of a preacher who would consign him to the fiery furnace of Hell for what he was doing. He forgot she was young and trusting and free from guile. He remembered only that she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, that she was in his arms, that he was nearly exploding with desire.
The feel of her, slender and fragile, the smell of her perfume, the warmth of her body as it pressed against his own, acted on him like an aphrodisiac. He planted kiss after kiss on her nose, eyelids, and mouth, heedless of what it might do to his self-control.
She clung to him, her need as great as his own. Her body answered the pressure of his own, its muscles strung just as tightly. Her mouth opened to met his. Her tongue hungrily explored his mouth, dueled with his tongue, retreated, and attacked again.
The broke apart, each panting for breath.
"You'd better be going," he said, sounding like he'd run five miles.
"Why? I have nothing to do but go to bed."
"You have to go, or I won't be responsible for myself."
"What are you afraid of? We're husband and wife."
She looked at him, pleading for more, her mind begging for answers, her body knowing exactly what it wanted. He knew he was on the verge of breaking down.
"This isn't the time or the place to discuss it." He grabbed her cape and threw it around her shoulders. He regained some measure of control when she pulled the hood over her head.
"But you promise you will discuss it."
"Yes. Soon. Now you've got to go, and I've got to get back."
She walked to the door, then turned back. "Do you love me?"
She'd never asked him that before. He'd thought it was a tacit agreement that they wouldn't speak of it. He should have known better. Sooner of later he must answer, for her and for himself.
"I don't know."
"Are you sure you're not saying this just to get rid of me?"
"Would it be that easy?"
She smiled at him, and a little of the humor returned to her eyes. "No. Papa says I'm determined as a mule and stick like a leach."
"For once I'm in agreement with your papa."
"I want you to love me."
"Does it mean so much?"
"It means everything. Doesn't it to you?"
He didn't know. For him love had always been a tepid emotion. Even his affection for Rose and George was formed mainly by self-interest. He'd taken the loyalty of his family, of the women who worked for him, as his due, thinking all the while he was equally loyal to them.
Now he wondered.
Did he know what love was? Maybe he was just bewitched. Maybe his sexual needs had overpowered everything mental and emotional.
"I've never understood love, not the way other people mean it," he said. "Daisy says I'm cold and callous. But I do know I can't get you out of my mind. You're like an obsession."
"I don't want to be an obsession. That's unhealthy," Lily said. "I want to become a part of you. I want you to feel incomplete without me."
"Is that how you feel about me?"
"Almost from the first. Why do you think I was always coming here, always waking you up? It didn't matter that anybody else knew or cared what I was doing, only that you cared. I had to tell you even though you threatened to do terrible things to me."
"I wouldn't have hurt you."
"I knew that."
Zac jerked himself out of the daze into which he was rapidly sinking. "You've got to go. There'll be riots on the floor, shootings and screaming women if I don't get out there soon."
"Why are you always making jokes to hide what you really feel, to keep people from getting close to you?"
That stopped him in his tracks. No one except Rose and George had ever understood him so clearly.
"Because I'm afraid," he said in that one shattered moment of honesty. "I know what I look like, how that affects people, but I'm afraid that's all there is. I'm afraid to love, to give myself, for fear I'll be rejected. I couldn't deal with that."
He stopped. Somewhere inside him a door slammed shut. He put on the dazzling smile that had protected him his whole life.
"Now you've really got to go. No more questions. Anymore and you'll find out I'm just as boring as the next person."
He hustled her outside, into the cab, and sent her off with a stream of chatter that didn't allow her any chance to reply. But as he reentered the salon and closed the door behind him, he realized she'd forced him to open that door to himself. She'd forced him to look inside and see the truth.
Having done so, he didn't like what he saw. He had finally admitted the truth to himself, had actually put it into words. He couldn't ignore it any longer. If he did, he might lose himself forever. He would surely lose Lily.
* * * * *
Sarah Thoragood entered the saloon with all the caution and trepidation of someone approaching the portals of Hell. Lily noticed her immediately. The banging of the front door echoed through the empty hall. Lily rose to her feet.
"I didn't expect to see you here," Lily said.
"Nor I," Sarah Thoragood replied, looking around at the gambling machines as though they were instruments of the Devil.
"Have a seat. Would you like some coffee?"
"I can't stay," Sarah Thoragood said. "I only came because I felt compelled to speak to you. I haven't seen you in more than a week."
"I'm sorry, but I've been so busy here I haven't had time. Is there anything I can help you with?"
"I have heard a rumor you've been appearing at the saloon again."
"No. Zac made me stop
singing when we got married."
Sarah Thoragood looked vastly relieved though no less disapproving. "I can't imagine why people persist in spreading malicious lies," she said. "They seem to delight in trying to besmirch the reputations of others."
"Zac said singing would ruin my reputation. It was all I could do to get him to let me act as hostess."
"Hostess!" Sarah repeated on a faint voice. "That's even worse."
"Oh, no," Lily assured her. "Zac makes me dress ever so soberly."
"I see you've given up your black dresses."
Lily was wearing a lemon yellow gown the saleswoman had assured her was quite proper yet eye catching. Lily had given away every black dress she owned.
"Zac said he didn't want me wearing black. He said it wasn't suitable for a new bride, that it would make people think I was in mourning. He said it would have all kinds of unsavory people hanging about hoping I had inherited his money."
Clearly Sarah hadn't considered it from that angle.
"Zac never takes his eyes off me when I'm down here," Lily continued. "And he sends me off promptly at ten o'clock."
"That's something else I wanted to talk with you about."
Lily had been expecting this, but not so soon. However, she didn't intend to let Sarah Thoragood get the upper hand.
"I imagine some people have been wondering about that," Lily said, "but it really isn't their business."
Sarah Thoragood blinked in surprise.
"I'll explain it to you because I want to put your mind at rest."
Lily wasn't used to lying. It went against her nature. However, since coming to San Francisco she'd learned the entire truth was not always a good thing. Sometimes even a little bit could cause an enormous amount of trouble. However, she had virtually no experience at mixing truth and falsehood with a judicious mixture of wishful thinking. She hoped she didn't get it wrong.
"Living in two places is a little awkward, but Zac refuses to let me live in the saloon. He says it's not proper."
"Quite right, but--"
"He's really very protective."
At least that was the truth. She had seen the way he looked at the men as they crowded around her, and she cherished every scowl and muttered curse.
Lily Page 23