Ah, that. Now she remembered. Her heart raced at the idea, the beat echoing through her blood and centering between her legs. Slickness coated her thighs, her body more than interested.

Could she give in this soon?

“And if you hurt me, you’ll hand over the deed to the Bronze House?”

His gaze narrowed, the dark depths dancing. “Is that what I said?”

“You swore on the deed to the Bronze House that you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I believe I swore on everything I own that I wouldn’t run from you.”

“You’re splitting hairs again.”

He kissed her nose. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Fine, the deed is yours if I hurt you.”

She leaned in and scraped her teeth along his jaw. “Then what are we waiting for?”

He sucked in a harsh breath. “Now?”

“Had you other plans tonight?”

“Absolutely not.” He took her hand and reached for the doorknob.

“I’ll meet you downstairs. I need to change first.”

He paused then dragged his gaze down her neck and over her bodice. “I like this look. If you’re asking me, I’d prefer you leave it on.”

“Fancy sleeping with a chorus girl this evening?”

He pulled open the door and tugged her into the corridor. “Only if that chorus girl is you.”

Chapter Sixteen

He walked her in the front door.

The Bronze House was already busy. Gentlemen crowded the tables, where chips and dice were flying. Clay led the bewigged Florence into the midst of the action in the casino. No one would recognize her, and they’d reach his bedroom faster this way.

Heads turned but not for long. He knew what they saw, a woman dressed in an orange wig and matching skirt on a man’s arm. They’d assume she was his for the night, and they wouldn’t be wrong.

Anticipation coiled in his belly. The carriage ride had been pure torture, her body pressed against his for the entire journey. She’d laughed at his discomfort, teasing him. He had promised to make her pay for that teasing when they were alone.

Jack strode over to block their path. “What are you doing?” he snapped at Clay, his expression livid. “Have you lost your—”

“Good evenin’ to ya, Jack.” She’d adopted an accent, similar to what one heard downtown. Not her polished, genteel tone, but a huskier, rougher sound with longer vowels, and Clay tried to hide his smile.

Jack immediately relaxed when he recognized her features. “Ah, I see. Indeed, this is unexpected but a great relief to all of us at the Bronze House. Welcome, miss.”

She looked up at Clay, mischief in her eyes. “A great relief, is it?”

“Don’t listen to him,” he said. Then he glanced at his partner. “I’m unavailable for the rest of the night.”

“Ooo, lucky me,” Florence said in her fake voice as she snuggled closer to Clay’s side.