Charity House Courtship. Renee Ryan

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ risk was too great.

      With renewed determination, she lifted her chin a notch higher.

      Dupree’s lips twisted into a frown. “Stay here.”

      Without another word, he turned on his heel and slammed out of his office.

      At the sound of the lock striking into place, Laney blew out a hard burst of air.

      Stay here. As if he’d given her any other choice.

      At least he wouldn’t find Judge Greene on the ninth floor. Or any floor, for that matter. Denver’s most respected federal judge had already exited the building by way of the back alley. By now, he was probably enjoying the rest of the evening with his very proper, very naive wife.

      Dupree would be furious when he returned to his office empty-handed. Laney didn’t plan to stick around to find out just how angry. Of course, if there was no money waiting for him in the safe there could be no reason to approach the judge, now or in the future.

      No evidence. No shady dealings.

      Laney knew what she had to do. And she had precious little time in which to do it.

      Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she looked frantically around the room. A new plan began formulating in her brain. One that would require a different ensemble than the ridiculously fancy dress she wore now.

      She hurried across the room and flung open the doors to the armoire. Smiling wryly, she reached for a pair of worn trousers. Then thought better of her choice and dug deeper.

      One by one, she tossed out clothing items until she found the most expensive pair of trousers and the finest linen shirt among the lot.

      Kicking off her shoes, she made the change as quickly as possible. Her fingers shook over the buttons but she remained focused. Shoving up the too-long sleeves, she folded her discarded dress into a neat ball then rushed over to the safe.

      Thankful she’d paid attention to Hank’s fingers working the lock, she spun the dial around, clearing it, then proceeded to get down to business.

      Three turns to the right, two more to the left, a final one to the right and...

      Click.

      Blessed success. It took both hands to open the surprisingly heavy door. She eyed the contents, took only what belonged to her, then pushed the safe closed.

      Feeling contrary, she scribbled a quick note to the owner of the hotel—it was the only proper thing to do after all the hospitality he’d given her—then, with a bold sweep of her arm, cleared the desktop of all papers.

      She jumped onto the desk.

      Looking to the window, she let out a chuckle. She’d scaled too many walls, jumped on and off too many trains, to let a measly little slab of glass three feet above her head daunt her now. A quick flex of fingers, a check to make sure she’d secured her reticule tightly around her wrist and she was ready.

      Mind focused on one task at a time, she grabbed the window’s frame with one hand and felt around for the opening with the other. Finding the lever at last, she unlocked the latch and pushed the glass forward until she’d created a substantial slit. Careful to avoid catching the silky material on any random piece of wood or metal, she threw the borrowed dress out the opening.

      Her foot found a toehold in the wall’s masonry. Pulling with her arms and pushing with her feet she raised herself up. Once she was halfway through the window, she grasped the outside casing and tugged again. One final push and she was free.

      Free.

      Tumbling toward the ground, she used the momentum of the fall to gather her balance.

      As always, Laney landed on her feet.

      Smiling, she picked up the dress, checked the condition of her reticule and took off at a full run. She made it exactly five steps before colliding into a solid mass of silk-encased muscle.

      “Oh!”

      The dress plummeted from her clutches. Head reeling, mind focused on escape, Laney instinctively bent to snatch the garment as quickly as possible. Her progress was halted midreach.

      Powerful arms trapped her from behind, while an annoyingly familiar voice rang in her ears. “It would appear, Miss O’Connor, you have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

      Chapter Three

      Laney tried to twist free, but Dupree’s hold tightened around her waist. “Be still,” he ordered.

      His haughty tone slid over her, making her bolder than usual. “Or you’ll what? Hurt me?”

      His arms jerked, just a bit, enough to tell her she’d hit her mark. “I’m not in the habit of harming women.”

      “Then release me.”

      He had the audacity to chuckle. “Not a chance, honey.”

      Honey? Laney ground her teeth in frustration. But she wisely remained unmoving. As covertly as possible, she lifted her gaze and studied the window she’d just slipped through. How could Dupree have known she’d escape by way of that tiny opening?

      He chuckled again. “I’m an observant man, Miss O’Connor. I watched you eye my window with the same longing that a land-bound sailor tosses at the sea.”

      “How dare you?”

      “I dare because I can.” He shifted his hold, drawing his arms tighter around her, as if he suspected she would make a break if he gave her an ounce of opportunity.

      He was right, of course. The cad.

      The knowledge that he could read her so easily sent a shiver of alarm skidding down her spine. Her bravado of only seconds before disappeared. Clearly, she’d underestimated the man.

      A mistake she wouldn’t repeat.

      She had to get away. But how? At the moment, he had the advantage. Unacceptable. She couldn’t allow him to keep her imprisoned in the alleyway where the dim light from the adjacent street made this encounter all too intimate. Terrifyingly so. “Let me go.”

      “Not until you hand over Judge Greene’s money.”

      “Money?” She struggled with every ounce of her strength, and managed to lengthen the space between them by an entire four inches. “I don’t know what you mean.”

      “So we’re back to that. You might want to reconsider your denial in light of your present situation.” He spun her around to face him, clamped his hands on her shoulders and dropped an assessing glance over her. “As you must agree, you are in no position to argue.”

      Far too aware of his hands on her shoulders, she swallowed back a sarcastic retort. She should be furious with indignation. Yet, as he held her trapped inside his gaze a strange, almost pleasant situation rippled through her.

      What was wrong with her? This man was the enemy. The enemy! “You seem to be under the impression that СКАЧАТЬ