Marc had seen enough. He motioned to his security man, Hank, watching from across the room.
Well-versed in the need for propriety, the big man sauntered over in a casual manner.
“Hank, please escort Miss—” Marc leveled a look on the woman. “I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of learning your name.”
A sound of despair slipped from her lips as she fixed her eyes on the rotating doors at the other end of the lobby.
“Now, now, that wouldn’t be wise, Miss...”
She snapped her gaze back to his. “Oh, honestly, this is absurd.” Indignation masked any signs of her earlier anxiety. “My name is Laney. Laney O’Connor.”
“I trust that’s your real name.”
“Of course it’s my real name. Why would you ask such a question?”
Marc lifted a single eyebrow. “I find women like you often use a variety of names.”
“Women like me?” She frowned, as if trying to discern the meaning of his words. The moment understanding dawned, her eyes widened. “Oh...oh.” She yanked once again on her arm. “You insult me.”
He almost believed he’d offended her. Almost.
“Hank, please escort Miss O’Connor to my office.” Marc lowered his lips to her ear. “This will go much easier for you if you cooperate without a fight.”
“I...I don’t understand. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
They both knew that was a lie.
“Then you won’t mind if I take a look inside your satchel.” Giving her no opportunity to respond, he let go of her arm and commandeered the tiny bag dangling from her wrist.
Shock and fury flared in her eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Ensuring that nothing unsavory occurs in my hotel.”
Gaze locked on the tiny satchel, she lunged for him.
Marc shifted to his left.
She went stumbling past. One step, two, by the third she caught her balance and swung back around to face him. “Mr. Dupree, please. You...you’ve made a terrible mistake.”
Panic sounded in every word.
Marc remained unmoved. How many times had Pearl given that very same appeal, with that precise look of distress in her eyes?
“A mistake?” He shook his head. “Not likely.”
“Please,” she whispered, her shoulders slumping forward. “You have to believe me when I say I’ve done nothing improper in your hotel.”
Yet.
The unspoken word echoed in the air between them. Marc nearly called her bluff. Except...
Her desperation appeared real.
Something in him, some hidden part he thought long dead, reconsidered confiscating the ill-gotten money and returning it to its rightful owner. Perhaps, as Miss O’Connor had claimed, Marc had misjudged the situation.
He nearly relented and gave her back her reticule without further delay. But then he remembered what he’d witnessed moments earlier. One of Denver’s most prominent citizens—a federal judge, no less—had given this woman a large sum of money. In a very secretive, clandestine manner.
Something unsavory was afoot in his hotel. And Marc needed to collect all the facts before he could act.
Of course, questioning Miss O’Connor would require privacy.
Decision made, he hitched his chin toward Hank. Needing no further instruction, the other man took her arm.
She didn’t fight this time, nor did she try to appeal to Marc’s compassion. She did, however, release a defeated sigh, as though she understood she had no other choice but to cooperate.
“Mr. Dupree.” She wrapped her dignity around her like a protective shield. “Once I have explained my actions here tonight I trust you will return my reticule.”
Marc leaned forward until their noses nearly touched. “That, Miss O’Connor, will depend completely on what you reveal.”
Chapter Two
Laney tried to formulate a new strategy as the large, beefy man named Hank escorted her through the hotel lobby. Unfortunately, Marc Dupree followed closely behind them. So closely, in fact, that she could smell his spicy, masculine scent.
The heady aroma left her slightly light-headed, and her mind filled with the same hopelessness that had been gnawing at her all evening.
No. She couldn’t give up. Not now. Not ever.
Maintaining her outward calm, she kept her steps slow and steady, her expression mild. Despite what the hotel owner might think, the five hundred dollars in Laney’s reticule belonged to her.
Of course, per her deal with Judge Greene, Laney couldn’t disclose the reason he’d given her such a large sum of money. She would have to come up with another explanation, one that would protect the promise she’d made and still satisfy Dupree’s suspicious mind.
As if reading her thoughts, the annoying man moved in closer still, narrowing the distance to mere inches. “Thinking up a good lie, are you?”
Arrogant brute.
He thought he had the situation all figured out.
When he was so very wrong.
“I’m warning you now,” he continued in his low, husky baritone. “I’m not a man easily fooled.”
Her breath caught on a gasp. Oh, she had no doubt he was a sly one. The sense of danger pulsating out of him nearly overwhelmed her. But she coaxed her fear into compliance and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.
Hank’s hold on her arm remained remarkably light. Laney considered making a break for the rotating doors behind her. But she sensed if she tried to escape, the hired ruffian would tighten his grip to painful proportions.
Mind working quickly, she considered other options. Even if she managed to get away from Hank, there was the matter of Marc Dupree. Laney could feel his suppressed anger as he walked directly behind her.
Again, he leaned in close. Too close. “I wouldn’t try to run if I were you.” The warning sizzled in the tiny space between them. “You’re no match for Hank. Or me.”
Laney seethed at the man’s self-assurance. Nevertheless, she knew better than to fight at this point. Not without an escape plan.
Praying for a calm she didn’t possess, she allowed Hank to usher her inside a small room in the back corner of the hotel.
Dupree entered a few steps behind them and shut the door with a resounding click.
The moment Hank released her arm Laney pivoted around and took a step forward. Dupree shifted directly in her path, an ironic twist of his lips.
Out of ideas but not out dignity, she opened her mouth to express her outrage over his behavior. Unfortunately, words eluded her.
Eyebrows raised, Dupree stared at her, waiting, taking her measure, silently challenging her to defend herself.
The noisy din from the hotel lobby pervaded the cold mood in the room.
Laney ignored the racing of her pulse, putting it down to sheer desperation, and returned Dupree’s glare with equal intensity.
The handsome, chiseled features and square jaw created a deceptively appealing picture, as did the thick black hair against his smooth, olive skin. In contrast to his severe good looks,