Charity House Courtship. Renee Ryan
took his arm and pulled him into the shadows with her.
He followed willingly.
Once they were out of sight of the other hotel guests milling about, he wasted no times with pleasantries.
“Miss O’Connor.” He kept his voice low, his words barely audible over the din from the lobby. “As much as I sympathize with your predicament, you must never again contact me as you did this morning. Such recklessness goes against our original arrangement.”
The reminder slammed into her like a punch. “I had no other choice,” she whispered.
“I know, my dear.” Softening his tone, he patted her hand with a benevolent, fatherly touch. “I understand this is difficult for you. Truly, I do. If it’s any consolation, you look very much like your mother tonight. Quite beautiful, really.”
Instead of relishing the compliment, Laney’s heart filled once more with guilt.
She hated putting this man in such a precarious situation. But what else could she do? Her loan had been called in six months early. And this former “friend” of her mother’s owed Laney far more than she was asking of him tonight.
Considering the circumstances, he was getting off easy.
Keep telling yourself that.
As if wishing to finish their business as quickly as possible, he slipped a hand inside his coat then pulled out his wallet. A flick of his wrist and she was in possession of her money.
Surprised at how quickly the transaction had gone, Laney automatically curled her fingers over the large bundle and pressed it to her heart.
“Can I assume this settles our account?”
“Yes.” She gave him a firm nod. “Thank you, Judge Greene. As per our agreement, you owe me nothing more.”
“Excellent.” He turned to go, then spun back around to face her. “I know I don’t have to remind you of the necessity for secrecy, but under the circumstances, I feel I must verbalize my request so there is no misunderstanding.”
Knowing what was coming next, Laney waited silently for him to continue.
“Never reveal who gave you this money, Miss O’Connor. Or why.”
She clutched the bills tighter in her fist. “No, I won’t. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Thank you. I trust we shall not meet again. I...” As if only just realizing what he was saying, a sad smile crossed his lips. “Take care of my boy.”
Such an easy request. “You may count on it.”
Without another word, he pivoted on his heel. This time, he didn’t turn around.
Light-headed from joy over her success, Laney slumped against the wall and sighed. She glanced after the judge’s retreating back. He moved quickly, already halfway to the bank of elevators. At least he was sticking to their plan. As agreed, he would ride to the ninth floor of the hotel, and then exit the building by way of the back stairwell.
Laney would leave the way she came, after she drank a cup of coffee in the restaurant. Twenty more minutes and she could put this whole ugly business behind her.
The thought that she’d jeopardized the reputation of the most respected judge in town left her with a mild case of regret. But then she drew on the image of the children sleeping soundly in their beds. One in particular came to mind and her conscience eased.
Regardless of what Judge Greene told himself, he hadn’t come here tonight out of altruism. Nor had he shown up to pay off the debt he owed, at half the cost. No, he’d come to ensure Laney kept his son’s parentage a secret.
He’d paid handsomely for her silence. Or so he’d thought. What he didn’t know, what Laney hadn’t reveal during their transaction, was that she would have kept his secret for free.
* * *
Now that Marc Dupree had taken over the day-to-day operations of his hotel, he no longer tolerated dishonorable behavior. Not from his employees, or his guests. After months of ensuring every member of his staff adhered to this strict policy—and a handful of tussles with unruly patrons—the Hotel Dupree was now considered the most elegant, well-run hotel this side of the Mississippi.
Marc had worked hard to earn that reputation. He would allow nothing to ruin what he’d built out of the worst possible betrayal a man could suffer. Already cautious by nature, years of running the most dangerous saloons in the West had taught him how to spot trouble before it began. Thus, the moment the stunning woman in the gold dress entered his lobby he’d known—known without a doubt—she was going to pose a problem.
The way she’d scanned the lobby with a calculating eye, searching male faces only, had told its own story. When she’d stared at him from across the room, as if daring him to call her out for some misdeed, Marc had taken it upon himself to do just that.
Once he had concrete proof. He was, after all, a fair man.
The fact that he’d been unexpectedly affected by the woman’s striking beauty made no difference. He would not abide dishonest dealings in his hotel.
No matter the circumstances.
Careful to keep outside the woman’s line of vision, he observed Judge Greene step inside the empty elevator closest to the restaurant. If Marc had been a betting man, he’d wager half his fortune that the woman would soon follow her “friend.”
Swallowing his distaste behind a sneer, Marc found himself torn between tossing the little beauty out of his hotel and waiting to see how long it would take her to make her way to the elevators.
He guessed two minutes. Perhaps three.
She proved him wrong, by lingering in the alcove a good five more minutes than he’d predicted. Marc took the opportunity to study her more closely.
She’d arranged her rich, mahogany hair loosely atop her head, with several strands cascading free at random. The tousled effect was both captivating and enthralling, a sure sign she’d taken great care with her appearance. The gold dress complemented her figure to perfection, its tight-fitting bodice cut just high enough to avoid indecency. But only just.
Marc knew better than to allow such an artful display to send his logic disappearing into another room. If his experience with Pearl LaRue had taught him anything, it was that a man could trust no woman.
This one, no matter how exquisite, was no exception.
She set out, heading straight for the bank of elevators near the restaurant. Exactly as he’d predicted.
Uncommonly disappointed in a woman he’d never met, Marc cut across the lobby in a wide arc, keeping to the left of her so she wouldn’t notice his approach. Two feet away, he reached out and caught her by the arm.
Ignoring her shocked gasp, he spun her around to face him.
For an endless moment his mind emptied of all thought. His heartbeat roared in his ears, making it difficult to concentrate on anything but the stunned woman blinking wide-eyed back at him.
Up close, her refined, delicate beauty took his breath away. In contrast with the bold cut of her dress, everything about her was soft and inviting. Her face, her figure, even her light amber eyes spoke of a kind soul and a generous heart.
Completely unexpected. Enough to render him speechless.
She stared back at him, unmoving, waiting, holding silent, as if trying to gauge his mood before making her move.
Wounded, that was the word that came to mind as he gazed into those exotic, heartbreaking eyes. Vulnerable. Desperate.
All a lie. Her kind always lied.
Marc gave his head a hard shake. “Miss,” he said past the drumming in his ears. “I would like a word with you in private.”
He felt her betraying tremble,