by Roxy Harte
“I have considered the problem at hand, concerning Mr. Farris and your ineptness at producing the desired result.”
Ineptness? She stayed silent and fumed, while Véronique looked rather pleased.
“Véronique is here to instruct you on how to be coy and alluring.” Daniel closed and latched the door.
Véronique slid her arms around his neck, but he pressed her back. “Non, non.” He continued speaking in a soft, dulcet tone, words Lucy didn't understand but that Véronique clearly did, because whatever he was saying made her glance toward Lucy and giggle.
Seriously? “If you are going to jest at my expense, please do so in English, Daniel.”
Véronique turned toward her, catching her gaze in the reflection since Lucy had still refused to turn around. She started toward Lucy. “Good day.” Her voice was soothingly melodic, even though she'd switched from French to English. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Monsieur.”
Lucy frowned. Monsieur?
Véronique caressed Lucy's shoulder, a teasing touch as she slid her hand from one shoulder to the other along her back. Daniel hurriedly moved a chair nearer so that when Véronique sat, she was next to and facing Lucy.
“I hope you can advise me on the delicate situation I find myself caught in.”
Véronique squeezed Lucy's knee before slowly rubbing her hand up her leg, indecently close to the juncture of her thighs. Lucy's eyes widened. This is the lesson? Véronique teaching her to seduce the lawyer by pretending Lucy was Mr. Farris? Oh. No.
She started to protest, but Véronique touched two fingers to her lips, silencing her. Her body responded traitorously, her breath catching in her throat and becoming so shallow, she couldn't say she was breathing at all. Her mouth went suddenly dry, and she licked her lips, for all the help it did. She tried to breathe deeper, but nothing helped the growing tension in her chest…and lower. Véronique's fingers slid between her thighs, and the familiar tease of what Lucy had come to associate as lust flooded through her groin. “Oh!”
Véronique's hand just as quickly darted away, leaving Lucy to wonder if she had only imagined the inappropriateness of the touch. She shivered, slightly confused as to why she was feeling what she was. Daniel had squatted behind her chair and whispered, “Mr. Farris will be similarly surprised…and pleased.”
Lucy took a full breath as Véronique looked deeply into her eyes, and tried to remember how to think. “There was an original investor of the hotel I recently procured from the bank, and while I understand I have no legal liability to this person, I am very impressed by the level of detail bestowed upon the property.”
Lucy trembled, not understanding how she could be responding to this woman's touch. Véronique continued touching Lucy through her clothing intimately. “Daniel?” Her voice sounded high-pitched, even to her own ears. “I do not understand how this will aid me.”
Daniel spoke softly. “I doubt the lawyer will have any better defense to your seduction as you are demonstrating against Véronique.”
Véronique kept stroking her. “It isn't necessary for me to deal directly with this person, understanding it might make us both uncomfortable, but I would like to establish an arrangement whereby she would manage the hotel and restaurant until she could train new staff to take over all the responsibilities required. For her, there will of course be a profit share, which should ease the sting of any prior losses, and for your cooperation as mediator…” Veronique pressed her mouth to Lucy's and increased the torturous pressure on her flesh.
Oh God. Lucy orgasmed against Véronique's fingertips and fell forward, limp and embarrassed. Daniel escorted Véronique out. Left alone, Lucy listened as hard as she could, and it was nearly impossible to hear anything since Daniel had closed the door after stepping into the hallway. She knew he was speaking softly with Véronique, and doubted he was merely thanking her for her assistance. The woman's tinkling laughter sliced through her and left her fuming. The doorknob jiggled, and he reappeared.
“You don't knock?”
He raised his brow but stepped back into the hall and knocked on the open door. “May I come in?”
“You made your point. Véronique is skilled, sensual, and I am”—she shrugged—“less so. I doubt you can add much to the lesson tonight. You should go.”
“The lesson was to teach you how to be both coy and alluring, because you are just as sensual and can be just as skilled as she, if you believe you are.” Leaving the door wide open, Daniel closed the distance between them to sweep her into his arms. “You really don't realize how seductive you are, do you?”
Lucy pushed him away, frustrated. He pulled her closer. “I would teach you more this night.”
“I've learned enough for one night.” Lucy didn't admit her pride was still stinging from her indecent response to Véronique's touch.
“There is always more to learn.” He grabbed her chin firmly with his fingers and kissed her hard. “The most important lesson to date—which you seem to have forgotten—you are mine. Véronique, Madalena, Fang-Hua—none of them, nor any of the other women of this town—can say that. Only you.”
He pushed her over the edge of the bed, lifted her skirts, then entered her from behind. Her blood was pounding so hard in her ears, it was the only sound she could hear, even though she saw others in the hallway: Madalena leading a man, Francisca leaning against the wall, blatantly watching.
She didn't fight against him, because need was riding her hard. He was humiliating her, and still she wanted him. He could say or do anything to her, and still she would want him. She would love him. If this was what he was trying to teach her, she didn't like the lesson. Her agitation didn't detract from the vortex spiraling her need higher and higher…and then the bottom dropped out, and she was screaming, her release apparent to all within earshot.
He kissed her before leaving, a chaste kiss, considering. “Your sheriff is downstairs. I'll be watching for when you bring him up.”
The sheriff? Tonight? She knew the implication and hated that it meant he was leaving. Damn him.
* * *
Lucy didn't bother closing the door after Daniel left. She had no idea how many people had seen Daniel fucking her, but it made the possibility of someone seeing her tears of no importance; not that there was any chance someone would, her back was to the door. She felt someone sit on the edge of the bed behind her. By the whiff of heavy perfume, she guessed one of the women.
“Are you all right?”
Madalena. Perfect. She again has a front-row seat to my humiliation. Lucy sniffed. “I'm fine.”
Madalena rubbed her back. “Men have a sorry way of saying good-bye.”
Lucy closed her eyes. “I hate him.”
Laughing softly, Madalena replied, “No. You only wished you did. This dress is beautiful.”
It had been one of her favorites, but she was no longer certain she would see it that way. Madalena kissed the back of her neck. “Come to Véronique's room?”
“Véronique? No. That wouldn't be such a good idea.”
“Please. It could be a very good idea. With such a small crowd downstairs tonight, no one will miss the three of us for a short while.”
“No. I couldn't possibly.” She knew the other women sometimes did care for one another's needs, but—“I'm afraid I have a prior engagement.”
* * *
Daniel sat in the corner of Lucy's bedroom, waiting while Lucy went to the jailhouse to fetch Thunder, not that he could guarantee she would return with the man. She was angry, and he couldn't blame her. She expected him to forfeit his obligations and stay with her. He'd hoped things would be different with her and that she would understand his need to be on the trail. No one had to tell him he was a selfish son of a bitch.
He wasn't sure how long he should wait: ten minutes, twenty? He wouldn't wait forever, knowing the decision wasn't hers alone. Thunder could as easily refuse to cooperate. So it was some surprise when the door opened and Lucy led Thu
nder inside. He knew enough to stay still and silent.
Thunder met his gaze before leading Lucy to the bed. He had no doubt Lucy knew he was there, but unlike the man, she didn't meet his gaze; her attention stayed locked on the sheriff.
As Thunder aided Lucy disrobing, the vision etched onto his brain. He would never forget the sight, nor would he want to. Lucy stood backlit by a flickering lantern, visibly trembling. It seemed an exaggerated moment as Thunder unlaced her corset.
Daniel's gaze lingered on her bare back as Thunder pulled free the corset. Daniel caught her glance as she looked over her shoulder, seeing her expression offering challenge. If she was hoping he would back down, she was soon to be disappointed. He hoped she caught in his returned look an equal challenge to go through with what had begun.
Thunder stepped around the front of her, and Daniel noticed only then that Lucy was holding the cups of the corset to her breasts modestly.
Strangely, her eyes stayed locked on his, still waiting possibly, for him to leave.
Thunder regained her attention when he teased his tongue along the tops of her breasts where the scalloped edge of lace touched skin. Gasping, she turned her head back sharply to the sheriff. Taking her wrist gently in his hand, Thunder pulled her hand away from the fabric, allowing it to slide. His mouth followed the baring of her skin with kisses, taking her nipples one by one into his mouth. Without looking, Thunder tossed her corset onto a chair.
By her moan, Daniel assumed she was enjoying the attention to the sensitive tips. Watching, he decided she had magnificent breasts.
Her moan gained volume as her head tipped back. Her eyes were closed.
Daniel was hard-pressed to stay in his seat as her moans grew even louder and her hands balled into tight fists. Thunder demanded, “Tell me to stop.”
“No.”
“Tell me you like it.”
“God, Thunder.”
He bit down on her nipple again before saying raggedly around the flesh, “Tell me.”
“I like it.”
Daniel didn't want to know that Thunder too had discovered she liked a little roughness. He wanted to know the man cared about her. This was more than he'd bargained.
He wouldn't leave, though he wanted to.
Thunder pulled a tie at her waist, loosed her skirt, and allowed the fabric to fall and pool around her ankles. She was left wearing blue-and-green-striped stockings tied with ribbons at the top of her thighs, and her heeled boots. He left her that way and turned her to face the bed while he removed his jacket and vest, his shirt and holsters.
Opening his trousers, he exposed himself, but Lucy blocked Daniel's view.
Thunder bent her forward so that her elbows supported her weight on the mattress. He followed her down onto the bed, kissing her neck while trailing his fingertips over her back.
For Daniel, it was an agonizingly slow wait, time seeming to slow as each of their motions became overly exaggerated. The lift of her hips as she seemed to beg Thunder to enter her body. The soft pressure of his fingertips denting her hips as Thunder gripped her and pulled her slightly back. Daniel hated that she moaned deep in her throat for Thunder.
Thunder wasn't treating her like a whore as he thrust slowly and gently. His attention made her keen.
Daniel rubbed his erection through the fabric of his pants, wanting nothing more than to join them, but he wouldn't. He'd already decided in his mind that Thunder loved her and that he would protect her. The rest of the show was to torture him the long nights he was away from her, knowing Thunder would be there in his stead, and thus compel him to return to her quickly.
Chapter Sixteen
Daniel was gone. Lucy didn't need anyone to tell her it was so. She just knew. She'd spent a long night awake in the saloon and had been guilty of consuming a few shots too many. So many, in fact, she didn't remember going to her room, but since she awoke in her own bed…
God, why did I think whiskey was a good idea?
At least she awoke alone.
When Thunder had left her room, no coins lay on her pillow, and she wondered at that because he always left coins. Was it a message to her? This is only a favor. Message for Daniel? They were equals. Leaving her wondering if she would insist he pay in the future…because they weren't equals in her heart. Right?
God, it was no wonder she'd spent the night drinking. Her thoughts were enough to make her head ache.
She wished she'd asked when Daniel would return. How long did drovers normally take to the trail? A week? A month? Many months? She couldn't imagine so long a time without seeing him and closed her eyes to say a quick prayer for his safe return.
Afternoon found her in the crowded saloon in search of Georgie's hangover tonic. Even with a full-capacity crowd, it didn't seem to matter she was wearing only a thin shift and a silk robe—that is, until a woman arrived demanding to see her. Actually, demanding to see the woman in charge.
Mr. Farris arrived a moment later, fawning over Mrs. Finkelstein. “I have to advise this is unwise.”
Mrs. Finkelstein? Oh hell. Could my day get any worse? She imagined Emma having a big ole belly laugh up on high. She ran her fingers through her hair, wondering how in the hell she could escape their notice long enough to get up the stairs to her room and at least return to face her fate wearing clothes.
She vowed then and there to never leave her room again looking anything less than a well-groomed lady.
Thinking quickly, she ducked behind the bar and caught Georgie's distinct look of disapproval as he exited the storeroom. Seeing Mrs. Finkelstein standing in the center of his saloon, he nodded with understanding. He greeted her with much pomp. “Mrs. Finkelstein, we are honored by your visit. Allow me to show you to the dining room. I'm most assured you will be more comfortable there.”
Lucy peeked around the edge of the bar and saw he was standing between Mrs. Finkelstein and a filthy miner who was facedown on the table, stinking drunk.
Mrs. Finkelstein pushed him out of the way and strode over to the bar. “Miss Bowman?”
Lucy stood, trying to be as nonchalant in her near nakedness as she could be. “Ma'am?”
“How much do you want?”
“Want?” she croaked.
“You arrived at my attorney's office, insinuating knowledge of my person.”
Lucy looked from Mrs. Finkelstein to Mr. Farris. “I think there has been a misunderstanding. I sought Mr. Farris's assistance as a mediator in a business matter I wished to propose. Perhaps we could retire to the restaurant, where it is a little less…loud.”
Seeming to read her mind, Clancy broke into a lively number that had the three girls working the floor all pulling men out of their seats to dance with them, but despite the noise, Mrs. Finkelstein disagreed. “If you don't mind, I'll hear you out here. I've missed the noise and raucousness of the city, and this is as close as I've come to feeling at home in a very long time.”
“Well then.” Lucy turned to Georgie, who was polishing his pristine bar and appearing most uninterested. “Two glasses…and a bottle…at my table?”
He nodded and hurried to do her bidding.
Lucy led Mrs. Finkelstein to a table in the farthest corner tucked neatly beneath the staircase and standing alone from the others. Beside the bar, it availed the most privacy possible…considering. As soon as they were seated, Lucy came right to the point. “I am seeking someone to oversee the hotel and restaurant, hire employees, and train them. Seeing that you are responsible for the bare bones—I thought you might be interested in seeing through the project.”
Mrs. Finkelstein threw back a shot of whiskey before taking a moment to look her over. Lucy felt less than confident. “I need your help, Mrs. Finkelstein.”
“What aren't you saying?”
Lucy fidgeted in her seat and admitted, “I may have bitten off more than I can chew—or at least more than some folks feel it is appropriate for me to.”
Mrs. Finkelstein stared through her, then nodded her h
ead. “You are a woman, but more, if I read you correctly—and I believe I do—you were a slave. Here, with little competition, you are beginning to blossom, but a big city would eat you alive. You would disappear like a slug on a bright day.”
Lucy flinched at the woman's condescending tone.
“I will tell you something. Being a woman is not easy in this man's world, whether you are Negro or whether you are Jew, as I am. It is still the same. I will help you because you are a woman who shows promise, but be warned, I will not only be overseeing the staff of the restaurant and the hotel, I will be molding you. As the owner of the largest and soon-to-be most profitable business in this town, you must shine.”
Mrs. Finkelstein grabbed her chin, held her face captive, and moved forward until they were nose to nose. “Understood?”
“Yes.” Lucy squeaked, feeling like a fly caught in a web. The woman was overpowering and intense. She would never be accused of being a slug. Lucy decided she wanted to be just like her. Tough. Proud. Successful.
“Good. Go put on your very best dress and meet me in the dining room. There is much work to be done.”
Lucy stood, quickly.
“Miss Bowman?”
“Yes, Mrs. Finkelstein?”
“Never be seen in public in any less than your best.”
* * *
Lucy wasn't sure when day had turned to night or when night had faded to morning again. Mrs. Finkelstein was a harsh and determined taskmaster, leaving her wondering why Georgie would ever suggest she go to Mr. Farris as an intermediary. He was obviously her flunky.
It was determined that staff would be brought in from New York.
It was also determined that Lucy's best wasn't good enough, and new fashions would also need to be acquired.
“Mrs. Finkelstein?”
“Call me Rose.”
Lucy smiled. “I'm Lucy.”
Rose caught her hand. “Lucy in private, possibly Miss Lucy, but in all other arenas from this moment on, you will be known as Lucille. I've already spoken to the sign maker about hanging new fixtures. Over the saloon entrance will be a placard reading Miss Lucille's, and over the hotel and restaurant entrance will be another that reads Auberge De Rose.”
