The wisest decision would be to confront Dupree alone, before the banker insinuated himself into the matter. Taking a quick, uneven pull of air, Laney sauntered into the main foyer with the most nonchalant gait she could muster.
For additional courage, she clutched the signed document Prescott had reluctantly drawn up, per her unwavering insistence. All Laney had to do now was come up with fifty dollars and Charity House would be hers.
After she faced Marc Dupree, of course.
Prepared for their upcoming encounter, she almost regretted the anticlimactic sensation upon discovering the man’s absence in the bank lobby.
Capitalizing on her good fortune, Laney turned toward the back door, but thought better of her chosen route after only three steps. She’d seriously underestimated Dupree the night before. He most assuredly would expect her to exit by way of the empty alley again.
Or would he discount the obvious?
Front entrance? Back door?
Decisions. Decisions.
The apprehension she’d previously held at bay uncoiled, making each step a brand-new torture. Insisting her brain cooperate, Laney made her choice. After carefully folding her new loan agreement, she stuffed the document into the hidden pocket of her skirt and burst through the bank’s entrance.
Squinting into the blinding sunlight, she breathed the fresh pine scent so much a part of the bustling city and took her first step toward home.
“Well, Miss O’Connor, isn’t this a happy coincidence?”
She stopped cold. The shiver grazing along her spine had very little to do with the breeze riding on the air, and everything to do with the man standing directly behind her.
“Indeed, it is,” she said through clenched teeth.
“I say, you do get around.”
A choked gasp seemed the most appropriate response, and the only one she could force past her quivering lips.
“You know—” exasperating confidence resonated in the deep tone “—of all the ensembles I’ve seen you wear in our short acquaintance, this one is by far the ugliest.”
Now that wasn’t fair. Her dress might not be as elegant—or nearly as pretty—as the one she’d borrowed for last night’s adventure, but the simple cotton garment was respectable.
Insulted to no end, she whipped around to face the confounding hotel owner. Failing to account for the difference in their heights, her gaze engaged nothing more than gold and black-threaded silk. As calmly as possible, she looked up. And up farther still.
Dupree was tall, to be sure, with very broad shoulders. The kind a woman could dump her troubles upon and know whatever problem plagued her would be handled with absolute skill.
Shocked at where her thoughts had led and unable to formulate a proper response, Laney scowled at the man.
Dupree’s rumble of laughter locked her voice into further silence. He seemed happy enough to continue their one-sided conversation. “Imagine my surprise when I saw you conducting business with the shiftiest banker in Colorado.”
Shiftiest banker, indeed. Laney could hardly stomach the way Dupree made the scenario sound like two thieves cavorting with one another, as if she were made of the same unethical ingredients as Prescott. Her throat instantly unclogged.
“Rude, unconscionable, mean-spirited—”
“Now, now, Miss O’Connor, I wouldn’t go that far. You do have a few redeemable qualities.”
Sorely tired of the man’s lack of control when it came to vocalizing his low opinion of her character, Laney tilted her head at a wry angle. “Slinking in the shadows again, Dupree? I wonder why that image continually rings true.”
Seemingly amused, a slow smile spread across his lips.
Her traitorous heart skipped a beat, and then another. Why did she find it so hard to think clearly when he looked at her like...like...that?
Still smiling, he devoured the space between them with a single stride. Obviously unconcerned with propriety, he plucked an imaginary speck of dust off her shoulder, then brushed the cloth smooth. “I almost didn’t recognize you in this rather boring dress. The woman I met last night had much better taste.”
Standing so close, she couldn’t help but inhale the masculine scent that wafted off him. Pure male elixir clogged her nose, her lungs, her every thought.
Oh, my.
“The other dress suited your figure to perfection.”
Laney refused to react to his words. Yet the way he took his time assessing her, with that hooded gaze, made her insides turn into nothing more substantial than biscuit dough. “To what do I owe this unfortunate visit? Not to mention your shockingly inappropriate commentary on my attire?”
“You might find it interesting to know I was out hunting this morning. For you, of course.”
“Of course.”
He reached down and tugged on the tendril of hair that had defied cooperation all morning. “Why would anyone hide this lovely hair under such an unremarkable hat?”
“You are offensive, Dupree.” She nudged his hand aside. “The epitome of bad taste.”
“All part of my appeal. But let’s not continue to argue over the inconsequential.”
“And here I thought we were getting along so well.”
“Enough.” Every bit of amusement fled from his gaze. “We have important business still to discuss.”
Of its own volition, her body strained toward him. She snapped her shoulders back. “Do we? I was under the impression we said everything we needed to say last night.”
“Not even close.” He reached for her again, but then dropped his hand and frowned. “You never explained why you chose to meet Judge Greene in my hotel. And why such a large sum of money changed hands between the two of you.”
Laney shivered at the intelligent glint in Dupree’s gaze, the one that told her he would immediately recognize a lie.
If this man found out about Charity House, and if he turned out to be no better than Thurston P. Prescott III...
No, she couldn’t let that happen. “You are becoming redundant, Dupree.”
“As are you. So that we understand one another from this point forward, let me make myself perfectly clear.” He leaned over her, his superior height effectively intimidating her into silence. “Under no circumstances will you entertain men in my hotel. You will not meet them in my lobby, nor eat with them in my restaurant, nor stay with them in any of the private rooms.”
“And we’re back to that?” She silently demanded her mind to concentrate on the conversation and not her uncomfortable awareness of the handsome man glaring down on her. “How many times must I tell you? Last night was nothing more than two old friends catching up with one another after a long absence.”
There. That sounded perfectly misleading and cryptic, with just the right amount of impatience to indicate her frustration.
“What do you suppose, Miss O’Connor, Prescott would say if I told him where you got the money to pay off your loan?”
Everything in her froze. How much did this man know about her business at this bank? Did he know about Charity House, and the children?
He couldn’t know. She’d been careful last night, even more so this morning. That meant it was time to call Dupree’s bluff. “I never said anything about paying off a loan.”
“Then you were making a payment on a loan.”
“You can’t know