Charity House Courtship. Renee Ryan

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      Chapter Two

      Laney tried to formulate a new strategy as the large, beefy man named Hank escorted her through the hotel lobby. Unfortunately, Marc Dupree followed closely behind them. So closely, in fact, that she could smell his spicy, masculine scent.

      The heady aroma left her slightly light-headed, and her mind filled with the same hopelessness that had been gnawing at her all evening.

      No. She couldn’t give up. Not now. Not ever.

      Maintaining her outward calm, she kept her steps slow and steady, her expression mild. Despite what the hotel owner might think, the five hundred dollars in Laney’s reticule belonged to her.

      Of course, per her deal with Judge Greene, Laney couldn’t disclose the reason he’d given her such a large sum of money. She would have to come up with another explanation, one that would protect the promise she’d made and still satisfy Dupree’s suspicious mind.

      As if reading her thoughts, the annoying man moved in closer still, narrowing the distance to mere inches. “Thinking up a good lie, are you?”

      Arrogant brute.

      He thought he had the situation all figured out.

      When he was so very wrong.

      “I’m warning you now,” he continued in his low, husky baritone. “I’m not a man easily fooled.”

      Her breath caught on a gasp. Oh, she had no doubt he was a sly one. The sense of danger pulsating out of him nearly overwhelmed her. But she coaxed her fear into compliance and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

      Hank’s hold on her arm remained remarkably light. Laney considered making a break for the rotating doors behind her. But she sensed if she tried to escape, the hired ruffian would tighten his grip to painful proportions.

      Mind working quickly, she considered other options. Even if she managed to get away from Hank, there was the matter of Marc Dupree. Laney could feel his suppressed anger as he walked directly behind her.

      Again, he leaned in close. Too close. “I wouldn’t try to run if I were you.” The warning sizzled in the tiny space between them. “You’re no match for Hank. Or me.”

      Laney seethed at the man’s self-assurance. Nevertheless, she knew better than to fight at this point. Not without an escape plan.

      Praying for a calm she didn’t possess, she allowed Hank to usher her inside a small room in the back corner of the hotel.

      Dupree entered a few steps behind them and shut the door with a resounding click.

      The moment Hank released her arm Laney pivoted around and took a step forward. Dupree shifted directly in her path, an ironic twist of his lips.

      Out of ideas but not out dignity, she opened her mouth to express her outrage over his behavior. Unfortunately, words eluded her.

      Eyebrows raised, Dupree stared at her, waiting, taking her measure, silently challenging her to defend herself.

      The noisy din from the hotel lobby pervaded the cold mood in the room.

      Laney ignored the racing of her pulse, putting it down to sheer desperation, and returned Dupree’s glare with equal intensity.

      The handsome, chiseled features and square jaw created a deceptively appealing picture, as did the thick black hair against his smooth, olive skin. In contrast to his severe good looks, the crisp white shirt he wore, red silk vest, and matching neck cloth added a refined dignity not often seen in the West.

      For a brief moment, as she continued holding his stare, Laney detected a familiar restlessness in his blue-blue eyes, the kind garnered from a painful past much like her own. A kindred spirit?

      Hardly.

      This might be her first face-to-face meeting with Marc Dupree, but she’d heard all the rumors. His reputation as a ruthless businessman was legendary around town. Known for demanding unreasonably high standards from his employees—as well as everyone else around him—she doubted he had an ounce of mercy in his heart.

      Such a man would never understand what had brought Laney here tonight. She would be wise to consider him no different from the heartless banker who’d called in her loan six months early.

      Apparently finished with his silent scrutiny, Dupree turned to Hank and handed over Laney’s reticule. “You know what to do with this.”

      “Sure thing, boss.”

      Pretending to misunderstand, Laney reached out as Hank swept past her. “Oh, how kind of you to walk that over to me.”

      Hank paused midstep.

      “Ignore her,” Dupree ordered.

      Cocking his head, the big man eyed her cautiously. She thought she detected a note of sympathy in his eyes but then he shook his head and continued on his errand.

      As if bored with the whole affair, Dupree leaned against the shut door and crossed his arms over his chest. His casual stance was an illusion, of course. Laney easily detected the concentrated focus behind that bland manner of his.

      Recognizing the sensation in her stomach as fear, she forced herself to speak as though nothing was amiss. “Come now, Mr. Dupree. Considering the late hour, perhaps you would be so kind as to return my reticule now. I’m sure we can have our little discussion some other time.”

      His expression never changed, but his gaze narrowed ever so slightly. “Not a chance, honey.”

      Out of the corner of her eye, Laney caught Hank reaching out to a small, metal safe situated on the floor next to a sturdy-looking desk.

      Renewed panic reared, abrupt and violent, stealing her ability to think logically.

      Knowing Dupree watched her as closely as she eyed Hank, Laney inched slowly into a new position, lowered her lashes and focused covertly on Hank’s fingers working the dial.

      The melodic tick, tick, tick, of the spinning lock filled the room, diminishing her chances of an easy escape with each turn. Another few clicks and Hank pulled opened the safe. He shoved her reticule deep inside then closed the door with a hard snap. Another twist of his wrist and the lock went spinning again.

      As the tumblers cleared, her composure snapped.

      She whipped around to glare at Dupree. “You can’t do this.” Her breath came in short, shallow gasps. “It’s...it’s stealing.”

      “Don’t be so dramatic.” Dupree waved his hand at her in a careless gesture. “I have no plans to keep your reticule indefinitely, nor its valuable contents.”

      “I СКАЧАТЬ