Renee Ryan - Charity House Courtship

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 you are in control right now.”

His fingers flexed, then gripped her again. Not any harder, just more securely. “Wonder where I’d come by such an idea?”

His smug attitude quickened the fight in her. Calling upon the lessons she’d learned from the friendly Chinese man at the mining camp outside Cheyenne, Laney dropped low, then bobbed to her right. She managed to surprise Dupree long enough to free herself for a full half second.

But he reached out, grasped her again then lifted her back to an upright position.

“Release me, you oaf.”

Placing her directly in front of him, he flattened his lips into a grim line. For a brief moment, their feet shuffled in a bizarre dance of wills while she tried to get free and he made sure she didn’t.

Fully in control of the situation, Dupree concluded their perplexing waltz once he had her in a spot where her only route of escape was through him.

Apparently satisfied with this new arrangement, he released her shoulders at last. “Now.” His low, gravelly drawl drifted through the air between them. “Where were we?”

A shudder of unease racked through her. “Your manly display of physical intimidation is rather pedestrian, don’t you think? Especially in light of the fact that I have done nothing wrong here tonight.”

“You claim innocence, yet you tried to make a quick escape before my return. And now that we’re on the subject.” His eyes narrowed over her. “I don’t remember giving you permission to borrow my clothes.”

She jerked her chin at him. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be.”

Keeping her eyes locked with his, she faked to the right, then shifted quickly to her left. He shot out a restraining arm, and once again, moved her back to center.

“I’m warning you, Dupree—”

“Dispensing of the ‘mister,’ are we?”

Laney sniffed. “Mister implies a gentleman.” She trailed her gaze across his far too handsome face, down to his fancy vest then back again. “Regardless of the manner in which you dress, we both know you are no gentleman.”

“And since you are no lady, am I to assume we can dispense of any further pretense of good manners?”

Without waiting for her to respond, he reached out and captured a loose tendril of her hair, twined it around his finger.

For a long, stifling moment the strange sensation she’d experienced only moments before slipped through her again, freezing her into immobility. Why wasn’t she slapping his hand away? Had she no pride left?

Yes, of course she did.

Calling upon every bit of her outrage, she said, “Release me this instant.”

“In due time. But first.” He let go of her hair. “I want that money.”

“Well, you can’t have it.”

Even in the dim light she could see the exact moment his patience ran out. He grabbed for her reticule.

“Oh, no.” She whipped her arm behind her back. “This money is rightfully mine, given to me for a very good reason.”

“So you say.” He stopped his approach and crossed his arms over his chest. “If you are innocent, as you keep claiming, then you should have no problem sharing with me why Judge Greene gave you the money.”

“I...can’t tell you.”

“Of course you can’t.”

For reasons unknown to her, Laney again wished she could tell this man the truth. Marc Dupree would be a powerful ally against the likes of Thurston P. Prescott III.

“All right, Miss O’Connor. Since you refuse to do so yourself, let me explain the situation for you.”