An Outlaw To Protect Her. Harper St. GeorgeЧитать онлайн книгу.
feature of the house left behind when the owner had sold it to the previous madam. The slivers of faceted glass, not crystal, flickered in the light of hundreds of candles, making it look like crystal. When the town had changed over to electricity several years earlier, Glory had opted not to change the chandelier. She loved the antique feel. Sometimes she closed her eyes and imagined she was in a grand London ballroom and a handsome gentleman would sweep her up into a waltz. But then she’d open her eyes to realize she was in Helena, where the gentlemen were in short supply. They might say all the right words, but they were all only interested in things that sparkled—gold, silver and copper—and she couldn’t afford to forget that. Maybe that’s how all men became once they reached a certain level of wealth. She couldn’t honestly say for sure. She’d lived in her cocoon at Victoria House since she was sixteen.
The one thing she did know for sure was that even if a proper gentleman from London were to walk in, he’d have little interest in a brothel madam. Well, little interest beyond the physical. Not that it mattered to her. She’d had her chance at marriage and it hadn’t worked out. Now she knew that it wasn’t something that interested her. She liked her independence too much to ever give it up. It meant a lot of lonely nights, but the payoff was worth it.
The song ended, bringing Glory back to the present as the room broke out into polite applause. She smiled as she took to the dais to thank Sally and address the crowd. “I’d like to extend my thanks once again to Mrs. Sally Roarke for gracing our little corner of the world with her beautiful voice.”
The older lady inclined her head, and the men applauded again coupled with a few suggestive whistles. Sally was a favorite at Victoria House and made the trip about twice a year from St. Louis where she lived. None of the men seemed to realize she was the same Mary Walker who had worked here years before Glory had taken over.
When Sally had given a curtsy and waved her way out, Glory addressed the room again. “That’s all the entertainment for the night, gentlemen. The house will be closing soon, so please make your final drink selections.”
There were ten women working upstairs tonight. Most of them seemed to have already found patrons for the evening, but a couple were talking to men in the lounge. When Glory had taken over she’d brought in plush sofas and divans worthy of her previous life on a plantation. She’d also scattered tables throughout to encourage conversation, which encouraged drink sales.
“What if my final selection includes you?” A disembodied male voice called from a table of men in the far corner.
Glory didn’t pay him any attention as she left the small stage. It wasn’t unusual for the random man here or there to try to buy her time, though it was common knowledge that she wasn’t for sale. Instead of replying, she focused on speaking to the few regulars in the audience. It was her ritual. She’d thank them for coming out, make conversation and move on to the next table, working the room before she retired for the evening.
She had never been as aware of another person as she was aware of Zane lurking in the background as she worked. He hadn’t imposed or even really made his presence known. He’d taken a seat out of the way to blend in with the other customers, and he’d been a fixture in the house all week so no one even noticed him, but she could feel him. His gaze was like the lightest of weights pressing into her skin, massaging over her and leaving her warm and tingly in ways that were equally as disturbing as they were pleasurable. She didn’t know what to do with the sensation, so she settled on ignoring it in the hopes that it would go away.
It never really did though, and as she made her way upstairs to retire for the night, she knew without looking that he’d followed her out the door. His large presence followed her up the stairs and down the hallway. She felt him pause behind her as she unlocked her door. Her eyes drifted shut as she took in his scent, a mix of leather and man. She couldn’t describe it other than that. He smelled rugged and dangerous and it was all appealing in a very confusing way.
Pushing her door open, she stepped inside and held it for him. She managed to give him a small smile that she hoped was welcoming. It was so odd to have a man in her private suite. Able was the only man in recent memory she could remember ever being inside.
“Do you really think this is necessary?” she asked when she’d closed the door behind him and locked it. He was already across the room, checking the bathing chamber and her bedroom for the anonymous letter writer.
“Yes,” was all he said.
Finished prowling for strangers lurking in the shadows of her bedroom, he walked back over to her. His brow was furrowed and his shoulders seemed stiff. “Do men always talk to you that way?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“That ass who wanted to...” His jaw clenched as if he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.
“You mean the man who wanted to take me upstairs.” Some small part of her warmed at the thought of him being upset about the question. It was an unreasonable way to feel. She and Zane meant nothing to each other, so he had no reason to feel upset about it. But still, it was nice to have his concern. “It’s part of the job.” She shrugged.
The muscle in his jaw worked as he looked away. It was clear that he didn’t like that part of the job.
Deciding it was best to change the subject, she followed his gaze to the sofa. “I’m sorry that I’m not really set up for guests.” She gestured to the small parlor that was equipped with a sofa and a couple of chairs. A dining table and a small kitchen area with an icebox took up the far corner of the space. “If you’re hungry, I can offer you bread and jam.” She shrugged in apology at her meager offerings. She usually took her meals down in the kitchen.
“I’ve already eaten supper.” He voice was strong and calm. The fact that he seemed a little less lost than her in this arrangement somehow set her at ease. “You seem anxious,” he said, raising a brow at her.
She nodded. Having a giant of a man, especially one that she was so attracted to, standing in her private space would do that. “It’s strange for me to have someone else here.”
“Go about your evening as if I’m not here. You don’t have to wait on me.”
Easier said than done. Often she ended her nights with a long hot soak in the tub, but she didn’t see that in her future tonight. It felt strange to be naked with him in the next room. She couldn’t even think of doing that without blushing.
Instead of commenting on that, she said, “I’m sorry I don’t have a cot for you. You can take the sofa. Tomorrow I can have a bed moved in.”
He was shaking his head before she’d finished. “No, we don’t want to rouse suspicion. Hopefully it’ll be just a night or two and we can get the matter settled without anyone realizing I’m here.”
Gossip traveled like wildfire through the house, so Glory very much doubted they’d be able to accomplish this arrangement without someone finding out, but she kept that opinion to herself. They’d deal with whatever problems arose when they had to. “Right. I’ll get you some blankets.”
She escaped to the safety of her room and opened the chest at the end of the bed. Pulling out the extra quilt that she used in winter to double up her blankets, she grabbed the second pillow from her bed and headed back to the main room. She had to force herself to let go of the breath she’d been holding when she saw Zane taking off his coat. His button-down shirt was stretched tight across his broad shoulders, and the muscles in his arms flexed as he moved, straining against the fabric.
This man was all physical power. She usually found that unappealing, preferring the efficient slimness required to properly wear a suit on the male form, but with Zane… She sucked in a deep breath and forced herself not to think about the tingling warmth spreading across her skin. It was best to keep her mind solely on the problem at hand. In this case his powerful form was the problem, because she had no idea how he was going to fit on her sofa. It wasn’t dainty by any means, and she’d fallen asleep on it often enough reading to know that it was comfortable, but he was just so big.