She came in front of his chair and moved in between his knees. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she leaned down and gave him a spectacular view of the tops of her breasts. “You forget,” she whispered in his ear, “because it doesn’t really matter. Thirty-one isn’t so old.”

He caressed her waist, his hands smoothing the expensive silk covering her body. “Yes, but twenty-one is so young.”

“Twenty-two tomorrow, and why are you focused on my age?” She dragged her teeth over his earlobe and he shivered. “Is this about corrupting me again?”

Yanking her forward, he brought her onto his lap. He slid a palm around her neck to cup the back of her head. “No.”

It was about his wanting to keep her and knowing he couldn’t.

He pressed a soft kiss on her mouth, pleased when she relaxed into him and kissed him back. He loved the way she kissed, with her entire being dedicated to the task. She didn’t hold herself in check, playing prey to his hunter. No, she attacked and demanded. She met him as an equal. He never tired of it.

After a quick knock, the door opened. Clay tore his mouth from Florence’s and glanced over to see Jack rushing in, the big man’s eyes wide with panic. His friend exhaled at seeing Clay and Florence. “Oh, thank Christ,” Jack breathed and bent at the waist to collect himself.

Clay set Florence on her feet and rose. “What is the matter? Has something happened?”

“Someone may’ve snuck into the building,” Jack said. “I had Kid Johnny on the back door. They just found him knocked out cold, door wide open.”

Clay’s entire body froze, fear sinking into his bones. If someone was here to hurt him . . . He couldn’t allow Florence anywhere near this place. Her safety was the only thing that mattered. “Come with me,” he told her.

“Wait, where are you going?” Jack asked.

“I’ll see her off in a hansom then join you in searching each room.”

Delicate fingers wrapped around his forearm. “Clay, you shouldn’t do that. If there’s danger then let the other men look for an intruder.”

He shook his head as he pried her fingers off his arm. Then he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I’ll be fine. I know all the best hiding places.”

“Let me help you,” she said.

His gut cramped at the idea of her being harmed by some disgruntled patron or dirty copper. “Absolutely not. This is not up for discussion, Florence.”

“I’ll meet you in the cellar,” Jack told Clay before hurrying out.

Clay began leading Florence to the door. “You’re going home and you may not return until I’m certain it’s safe.”

“That is ridiculous. No one wants to hurt me. I can help search for whoever—”