“We need a minute,” Clay said to the woman on the other side of the door.

“There’s no rush. Jack said you can return next door whenever you’re ready.”

“Thank you.”

Annabelle didn’t answer and silence descended. Florence needed time and space to think about tonight. She didn’t know how this would change her relationship with Clay, if at all, but going back to the House was out of the question right now. “I should return home,” she said, still not looking at him.

His big shoulders shifted. “Are you . . .” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I apologize for bringing you here. And I shouldn’t have pressured you into doing something you weren’t ready for.”

The apology surprised her, which was why she answered honestly. “I’m embarrassed, but I don’t feel as though you pressured me. I’m quite capable of saying no when necessary.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.” Exasperation momentarily eclipsed her humiliation. “As I’ve already said, I am not an innocent. You haven’t corrupted me.”

The side of his mouth hitched before he turned the knob on the door. Light from the corridor suddenly flooded the tiny room. “I’m relieved to hear it, because this was the most arousing experience of my life. I think you might’ve just corrupted me.”

Chapter Nine

Clay toed a broken bottle on the floor. Goddamn it. The police had destroyed the entire bar during the raid. Apparently, they hadn’t been able to find anything illegal during their search so they’d turned their attention to smashing the liquor instead.

Those pricks.

A partnership with Big Bill notwithstanding, Clay’s payments to police commissioners were supposed to prevent this sort of thing from happening. Now he had a ruined bar, thousands of dollars of spilled liquor, broken chairs and tables . . . Not to mention a night of lost revenue. Bill would regret ordering a raid on the Bronze House.

The brothel . . . Jesus, but Florence had been amazing. Unexpected. Absolutely enthralling. And he wasn’t one to throw compliments around loosely. Hearing her pleasure, her cries of ecstasy as she came . . . Fuck, he’d never experienced anything like it.

He wanted to do it again. Next time, facing her. Touching her. Helping her.

Would she let him?

After announcing his attraction to her, he’d been resigned to keeping things impersonal between them. He’d convinced himself not to pursue anything physical with a woman like Florence. It would only make things complicated. Messy. And Clay hated both.

But having Florence naked, beneath him, could make the complication worthwhile.

“All told, not too bad,” Jack said from across the room. His partner was striding around the pieces of furniture and coming toward Clay, Annabelle at his side.

“Who was it?” he asked Jack.

“Let’s see. I recognized Harris and McGinnis. The others were all young, too stupid to realize what they were doing.”