An Outlaw To Protect Her. Harper George St.
never been able to get close enough to take a look—but then last week she’d searched his room. She’d been looking for an answer to why he was hiding out at Victoria House, in case the reason put her staff in danger, but instead she’d found that book. Flipping through it, she’d expected to find secret plans about God only knew what, but instead she’d found his drawings. Most of them were of places she assumed he’d been: buildings, farmhouses, desert and mountain landscapes; but some of them had been of women. Very nude women.
An unreasonable surge of jealousy crept over her as she stared at the woman in the drawing. She wasn’t jealous because he’d obviously been with those women. She was jealous because she could never be one of them. It wasn’t even a question of emotional attachment or her running a brothel and him being an outlaw.
It was because she was broken. Irrevocably. Her skin prickled hot and then cold at the unwanted reminder of why she could never be with him the way a normal woman could.
They seemed to come to their senses at the same time and both bent down to retrieve the book. She touched it first, but his larger hand covered hers. Surprised, she looked up and his face was only inches away. She’d never been this close to him. She could count his short black eyelashes and smell the pleasingly faint hint of whiskey on his breath. They were so close she could feel how solid he was just from their proximity.
“Sorry,” she managed to whisper, drawing her arm back and rising. She meant to make a joke about the drawing, to say something about obscenities not being allowed in her suite, but she couldn’t say anything. When she opened her mouth, absolutely nothing came out except another breath she’d been holding. Deciding to retreat while her dignity was still intact, she inclined her head. “Good night, Mr. Pierce.”
Whirling away, she left him for the comfort and familiarity of her bedchamber. After she locked her door, she pressed her back against the cool wood. How was she ever going to get through the next few days with Zane being so close? Hopefully Hunter would find the person responsible for the letter very soon.
Zane watched Hunter make his way down the boardwalk across the road. He waited until he’d reached the cobblestones that fronted Victoria House before he crossed to dodge the mud. Like many of the roads in town that weren’t main thoroughfares, it hadn’t been paved and was frequently at risk of becoming impassable due to rain. At some point Glory and Able had addressed the issue and had added cobblestones on the area of the street directly fronting their establishment so that mud wouldn’t have much effect on business. Despite the recent rain and the fact that it was hardly past midday when the house opened for luncheon, men were making their way inside. He’d never realized how busy the place was or what exactly that success meant for Glory. She could be a target of far worse than the person who’d left that letter on her desk.
He thought of Harvey and the men who’d tried to forcibly take her business from her a couple of years ago, the first time he’d met her. She’d sent Hunter word that she needed help. Fortunately, all it had taken to make the businessmen realize she wasn’t as vulnerable as they’d hoped was their gang showing up to a meeting alongside Glory with their guns on their hips. The men had gotten the point and left town. Something in his gut told him it wouldn’t be so easy this time. This time it wasn’t her business that was at stake. It was Glory herself, because some monster from her past seemed to want her. He’d tried his damnedest to pull information from her staff that morning, but no one seemed to know anything about her life before Victoria House. The staff turned over every few years as women moved on to other lives. He hadn’t found one who was here when she’d arrived.
“What have you found out?” Zane pushed away from the wall when Hunter stepped up onto the boardwalk. They’d moved Cas to Hunter’s town house at daybreak, and Hunter had spent the rest of the morning at the bank.
Glancing around to see if anyone was nearby to overhear, Hunter led him around the corner. “Nothing yet.” Hunter grimaced, clearly exasperated. “The account was just opened last week and belongs to some company based in St. Louis. I’ve done some checking but haven’t been able to find a person attached to the company yet. The address for the company is a post office letter box. I telegrammed for more information, but it could be a few days before we know.”
“A few days?” The skin on the back of Zane’s neck tightened. “We may not have a few days. It could take even longer to find this person once we have a name.”
Hunter nodded in agreement. “I know. It’s not great news, but it’s all we’ve got right now.”
Zane ran a hand across his brow, feeling a headache start to pound behind his temples. “You put any stock in what that letter said? You think the person really knows who she is? Where she came from?”
The grim look on Hunter’s face confirmed his feelings. “I’ve been thinking about that and it seems credible. Why go through the trouble otherwise? Anyone here knows that Glory has her own men for protection.” Aside from Able, the house employed two gunmen to keep the peace. They were always visible at the front doors and occasionally making the rounds of the parlors and lounges. “After what happened a couple of years ago, they know that she can call us in for help. It’s not worth the risk.”
“I’ve spent the morning talking to her staff.” Zane sighed. “They all speak highly of her. Most of them had nowhere to go when she took them in. Others sought out Victoria House because they knew they’d be treated better here than any other brothel in the territory.”
“You’re thinking it’s not someone on her staff?” Hunter asked.
“Doesn’t seem to be. There was a singer who performed last night. When Glory introduced her she said that she was from St. Louis. I’ll look into her, but if it’s not her then...” Zane let out a frustrated breath and kicked at the dirt with his boot. “Then I don’t know.”
The lines between Hunter’s eyes deepened. “You’re worried, aren’t you?”
“Aren’t you?”
Hunter shrugged. “Glory has the money to pay this person. I hope we find who it is, but if not she’ll be fine.”
Zane shook his head in disbelief at Hunter’s cavalier attitude. “She can pay, but what’s to say this person doesn’t report back to his boss that he found her?”
“I think that’s unlikely.” Hunter’s gaze narrowed, his eyes becoming slits as he studied Zane. “What has you so upset?”
Maybe the fact that he was suddenly sharing tight quarters with the woman who’d kept him tied in knots. Or maybe it was because he’d barely slept last night because the pillow she’d given him had been covered in her scent. He’d recognized it as one from her bed, which meant she’d laid her head on it the previous night...or maybe even hugged it against her body as she’d slept. The thought of all the places on her body that pillow could’ve touched had kept him awake far into the morning. As a result he was tired and irritable today.
“I don’t want anything to happen to her on my watch.” His words came out forced and flat, a sure sign that they were only the partial truth. He didn’t want anything to happen to her on his watch, but that’s not what had kept him tossing and turning all night. That had been compliments of a near constant erection. It wasn’t a surprise that Hunter picked up on the partial truth. They’d spent enough time together in their hunt for Derringer that they could read each other well.
“You realize Glory never entertains men, right?”
Zane gritted his teeth. “That’s what I’ve heard. What are you saying?” In addition to learning that no one knew where she’d come from, Zane had learned precious little about the woman who fascinated him so much. But the fact that she never entertained clients was one of them. He’d been unsure if she occasionally might or had retired from that some time ago. No. He’d learned that she never slept with men, and she never seemed