Taking her hand, Charles interrupted her gently. "Miranda, it's getting late. I don't think it would be wise for you to travel in the dark."
"Oh, I only have a little way to go."
Charles felt a surge of compassion. He had treated Bessie Randolph several times. He could not blame Miranda for not wanting to return to her sharp-tongued mother's bedside.
"Just the same, I wouldn't feel right if I knew you were on the road alone after dark. Come on, I'll walk with you to your wagon."
Drawing himself to his feet, Charles extended his hand to help Miranda rise. The thought touched his mind that careful treatment at birth could have eliminated the handicap she had suffered with all her life, but Bessie Randolph was not the kind of woman to "tamper with the will of God." He truly sympathized with Miranda's unhappy situation.
Waiting only until Miranda's wagon turned the corner of the street a few minutes later, Charles returned to his office. He cast a glance toward the position of the sun where it dropped rapidly toward the horizon and grimaced. Devina had specifically asked him to arrive early for the party to lend her his support, and it was later than he wished. With a low agitated grunt, he gathered a few necessities and headed for the public baths.
Charles walked back toward his quarters almost an hour later, decidedly tense. Damn! Saturday night and the line at the baths had been endless. It was times like these that he missed the luxury of his home back east with its full bevy of servants and private bathing facilities.
His patience all but expired, Charles crossed his office in a few quick strides and he walked directly toward his darkened living quarters in the rear. A silver of yellow lamplight from the street slanted through the corner of the window shade, and Charles allowed it to guide him toward the lamp. Damn it all, he disliked the way things were going. He would be late in arriving at Devina's party.
Within a moment a small flicker of light lit the darkened interior of the room and Charles adjusted the flame. He walked to the mirror on his washstand and surveyed the image that stared back at him. His hair was looking a little shaggy. He had been intending to step out for a haircut when Miranda arrived. Well, it was too late for that now, but he was going to have to take the time to shave, whether he liked it or not.
Turning, Charles reached for the razor that lay beside the washbowl, his hand freezing midway as an unexpected voice cut the silence of the room.
"Don't bother to shave, Carter. I shaved for you."
Whirling around, Charles stared at the shadow stepping out of the corner of the room, gun drawn. Charles's words were a spontaneous gasp: "I knew it was you! It couldn't have been anyone else."
Harvey's smile was stiff as he greeted the seemingly endless stream of guests who passed through his front door. He extended his hand toward a large, barrel-chested man. "Walter, I'm so glad you could make it tonight." Turning toward the heavy, plain woman at Walter Sherkraut's side, Harvey attempted to brighten his smile. He raised her hand to his lips. "And Hilda, you look lovely tonight."
The woman's bovine eyes all but bulged at the compliment, and it was all Harvey could do not to snatch his hand back from her clammy palm. He gritted his teeth as his smile stiffened further. Damn! How had an intelligent man like Walter Sherkraut gotten saddled with such a homely wife? In deference to a possible need for Walter's bank in the future, Harvey subdued his desire to shake off the dowdy woman with distaste. Instead, he broadened his smile.
"Walter, I don't believe you and Hilda have met my daughter, Devina."
Quick to seize his opportunity, Walter Sherkraut took Devina's hand, and Harvey winced inwardly at the flicker of discomfort that moved across his daughter's flawless face. It appeared Walter's grip was as deadly as his wife's, and Harvey had the distinct desire to crack the lecherous banker across his large, knobby knuckles. He took a firmer hold on his patience as Walter spoke in a low, almost throbbing tone.
"No, I haven't had the pleasure of meeting Devina, Harvey, but I admit to having seen your lovely daughter around town. How could I have missed her? She stood out like a flower among thorns." Walter bent closer to Devina. "I am so pleased to meet you, my dear."
Devina's reply was unhesitant. "And I'm pleased to meet both of you, Mr. Sherkraut, Mrs. Sherkraut."
"Oh, please call me Walter, Devina." The banker was almost leering into Devina's face, and Hilda was becoming visibly agitated. Damn the old fool! Devina was young enough to be his daughter!
"I would enjoy that, Walter." Devina's smooth tone cut into the growing heat of Harvey's thoughts. He felt a surge of pride as Devina turned gracefully to the ungainly Mrs. Sherkraut. "And if I may call you Hilda…?" Waiting only for Mrs. Sherkraut's stiff nod, Devina brought a smile to the woman's thick lips as she continued softly, "I would enjoy that far better than the formality of 'Mrs. Sherkraut.' After all, there aren't that many years' difference between our ages, are there? I wouldn't want formality to inhibit our conversation, because I'm sure we have very much in common."
Appearing flustered under Devina's attention, Hilda shrugged fleshy shoulders exposed by her outdated brown gown. "Oh, there are a few more years between us than you think… Devina."
"I don't believe it."
Taking Hilda Sherkraut's arm, Devina smoothly urged the older woman into the living room with a spontaneous flow of conversation that brought a most becoming flush to Hilda's cheeks. Harvey was speechless. He had never seen this side of Devina, this thoroughly gracious and considerate side. She had put the old
dowd
perfectly at ease with just a few short words, and was now making her feel like an honored guest. He suspected Hilda had not gotten preferred treatment like this since she was sixteen and being courted, probably for her money, by Walter himself. Perhaps there was more of her mother in Devina than he realized.
Walter still stood silently at his side, and Harvey turned to see the burly banker staring intently after Devina.
"Walter?"
"Yes?"
"I thought you might want a drink."
"A drink? Yes, I do." His expression distinctly relieved, Walter waited while Harvey beckoned to a passing waiter.
The banker helped himself to a glass from the waiter's tray and took a deep swallow. "You must excuse me for staring, Harvey, but your daughter is one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen."
"Yes, I believe she is." Realizing he had no desire to discuss Devina with the lecherous old sot at his side, Harvey motioned to a well-dressed man who stood in a far corner of the room. "The fellow approaching is Harry Wiggins, someone you might be interested in meeting, Walter. He's fresh from the East, a friend of my partner's, and an investor of some type. He's looking for financial guidance, and I've been telling him about your bank."
Walter's beady eyes finally strayed from Devina's gently swaying rear, and Harvey felt a flash of triumph. If there was one thing Walter Sherkraut liked more than the taste of young female flesh, it was the scent of money.
Within a few minutes, Harvey was making his way through the crowded living room. The party was going very well. Most of the guests had arrived on time, their promptness doubtless spurred by both their curiosity and the music that traveled on the evening air. Several couples had already begun dancing.
Harvey glanced into the dining room. The locusts had not yet hit the buffet table, but he could see they were lined up for the attack. He gave a low snort. Doubtless some of them had never seen such a sumptuous display in their deprived lives.
Harvey cast a glance around the room. It occurred to him that within the crowd already assembled were perhaps three, maybe four, men he felt to be on his level. The others he tolerated for the same reason he tolerated Walter Sherkraut. But there was one person in the house whose presence he would tolerate no longer.
Maintaining a steady forward motion that allowed no one more than a quick, passing exchange of words, Harvey made his way to the kitchen. The person he sought had walked in that direction only moments before.
Harvey watched in silence from the doorway of the kitchen as Lily surveyed a tray of artistically arranged candied fruits. Lily was the antithesis of Devina, with her black, shining hair, cream-colored skin, unfathomable dark eyes. So tall and slender in the glowing golden silk of her foreign attire, she was the only woman present who was a match for Devina's beauty.
It occurred to him that perhaps Lily had managed to be present in his house this evening because she especially wished to call his attention to that fact. But if that was so, he knew it was not Lily's main reason for being present. She was in his house this evening for the same reason she had walked the street across from his office she wanted to torment him.
Harvey took a deep breath. Torment him she did. How long had it been since he had held Lily's naked flesh against his own? He dared not count the days, but he knew it had been too long. She would have her victory this night, because he doubted he would be able to spend another night deprived of her. She was indeed controlling him, and he would allow her that control. But only until he could sate the lust that burned his body.
As if sensing his perusal, Lily looked up, and Harvey's anger surged anew. He would allow Lily in his bed, but he'd be damned before he would allow her in his house.
Motioning her outside into the yard, Harvey waited only until Lily had disappeared through the rear door before making a circuitous path in that direction. Once in the yard, he strode directly to the shadows of the back entrance, where she awaited him. His grip on her arm elicited a gasp of pain, but he ignored the breathless sound as his fingers closed more tightly on her delicate flesh. He spoke in a soft, venomous tone.
"Out! I want you out of my house now, do you understand?"
Holding his gaze even as she moved an almost
indiscernable
step closer, Lily whispered in her soft, melodic voice, "You are angry, Mr. Dale, but it is my wish only to serve you."
Harvey's laugh was harsh. "Serve me! There's only one way I want you to serve me, and it's not in my house and at my table. Now get out and don't come back! Go back to your gutter where you belong; and wait for me, because I'll be coming to see you tonight when this party is over. I'll teach you then what torment is."
Lily's lips curved into a hard smile. "You will come to me later… to join me in my 'gutter'? Ah, Mr. Dale, that a man as great as you should stoop so low. What would your beautiful daughter think of you if she knew?"
His urge to tighten his hands around Lily's graceful neck was almost as strong as the urge to consume her warm, tempting lips. Harvey laughed.
"Your scheme won't work, Lily, because I'm wise to your strategy. You're trying to drive me away from you with your tormenting, to make me suffer with the realization that need has made me as subservient to you as you are forced to be subservient to me. But all you accomplish with your efforts, dear Lily, is your own humiliation, and the stirring of passions within me that will be sated on your body, whether you are willing or unwilling."
Taking a moment to gain control of his heated emotions, Harvey curled a trembling hand around Lily's slender neck.
"Go home now and wait for me. Think of me and allow your passions to rise… hatred if it must be, but let it seethe. Because I'll come to you, Lily, and I'll sate those passions. I'll sate them thoroughly, in any and every way that will bring relief to the lust you have so deliberately raised within me, the same lust that I see mirrored in the shadowed depths of your eyes."
Pulling her against him with a rough hand, Harvey covered Lily's lips with his own in a cruel, punishing kiss that all but destroyed the last of his composure. Infuriated by his own weakness, Harvey thrust her roughly from him. His voice was rasping.
"Go now, damn you, and don't come back!"
Waiting only until Lily's slender figure had disappeared into the darkness, Harvey took a deep breath and drew himself stiffly erect.
She was gone, the cunning Oriental bitch was gone, and now he could return to his party and his guests. He could strike Lily from his mind with the knowledge that she would be waiting for him. He could consign her to the part of his life where he wished her to remain, hidden and apart, as was her due.
The two men stood eye to eye in a dead silence. The breadth of their shoulders was evenly matched, Ross's well developed chest and shoulder muscles only slightly more tightly hewn than Charles's. Thick midnight-black hair, slightly disheveled from the heat of the day, fell over the brow of each. Large dark eyes, black and fathomless, set at an upward slant above bold cheekbones, exchanged stares. Well-defined arched brows moved into simultaneous frowns, strong features tightened, firm jaws became more stubborn. Exact replicas of each other, they stared in further appraisal.
Ross, his heart pounding, abruptly motioned Jake forward. He felt he had been waiting forever for this moment, but he knew he'd been waiting only three years.
Ross's hand tightened on his gun. It was difficult hating a man who wore his own face, no matter how valid the reason for that hatred, and Ross despised his own weakness. But reason prevailed, reminding him that this man had put aside the bonds of blood three years before. Carter had earned his hatred.