Page 19 of Daredevil Lady and the Mysterious Millionaire (The Hidden Hearts Collection #3)

Although Addison declined to name any names at this point, he hinted that his evidence would incriminate several government officials and some respected members of society as well.

He declared that he would demand a special judicial committee be formed to examine his documents and hand down indictments.

Mr. Addison, who has declared his candidacy in the upcoming mayoral race?—

The rest of the article merely went on to discuss Addison’s political aspirations and his legal background. Zeke skimmed through it and then crunched the paper in his hand.

“Why, that young jackass!”

“Who?” Duffy asked.

“Addison!” Zeke slapped the paper back down on the counter.

Whatever had possessed the fool to go spouting off to a reporter before he had had his talk with Zeke?

Addison was a good man, but an idealist, tending to get swept away.

He hadn’t yet learned that it was not wise to let your opponents see all your cards before you played them.

True, he had been sensible enough to mention no names, but Charles Decker would know who was meant.

Decker and his friends would have plenty of time to dive for their attorneys, start preparing a defense.

The more Zeke thought about Addison’s folly, the more it angered him, and he swore.

“I don’t see what was in that story to get you so mad,” Duffy said. “I thought Addison was a friend of yours. You’re backing his campaign, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be more likely to break his neck.”

Duffy’s eyes lit up with speculation, and his nose practically twitched, as though he were scenting a story here. Zeke could almost see the headlines chasing through Duffy’s mind. Millionaire Backer Threatens Reform Candidate.

That was the last kind of press Addison needed. Zeke could see he had a problem here. The meeting between himself and Addison already promised to be heated enough without Duffy hanging about, all ears. He needed to be rid of the reporter before Addison arrived.

Yet Duffy was a shrewd fellow. Sending him off without arousing his suspicion would be difficult. Zeke attempted simply to turn a cold shoulder on the man, becoming taciturn, but Duffy was more persistent than a horsefly.

He badgered Zeke with questions about Addison and about Zeke’s own background. Zeke’s patience was wearing thin when help came from an unexpected corner.

Mulgrew snarled that if Duffy didn’t cease pestering the hotel’s customers, he’d summon a policeman. “I’ll have you run in for loitering and panhandling drinks.”

“Bah!” Duffy said. “If there was a law against that, half of Manhattan would be in jail.”

But when Mulgrew made a menacing move to come round the bar, Duffy flung up one hand in defeat. “Ah, don’t get riled. I’m going.”

He tossed off the last of his beer and ambled toward the door. He paused on the threshold long enough to call back to Zeke. “See you around, Morrison. I’ll get a good story out of you one of these days yet. You just see if I don’t.”

As the door closed behind Duffy, Mulgrew snatched up the empty mug and vigorously scrubbed the counter in front of the spot where Duffy had stood drinking.

“I always said this hotel should be more careful, only allow gentlemen into this bar,” Mulgrew muttered.

“Then I wouldn’t be able to come in,” Zeke said.

“Oh, no, you’re a gent all right, Mr. Morrison. I always say it takes more than fancy manners and blue blood to make a proper man.”

Zeke looked away, pleased but a little embarrassed by the tribute.

He took out his watch again. He was startled to see it was past five and still no sign of Addison.

He expelled an exasperated sigh. It wouldn’t surprise him in the least to discover that Addison had forgotten.

When absorbed in preparing one of his legal briefs or writing a fiery speech, the man didn’t even remember to eat unless that pretty wife of his took away his pen and put a fork in his hand.

Zeke resolved to give Addison another half hour and then he would wait no longer. As the minutes ticked by, he stared into his beer mug, letting the drink get warm as he became increasingly more morose.

This waiting was giving him too much time to think, and not about Addison. Much as he willed it to be otherwise, his thoughts kept returning to last night and Rory.

Like the true sprite that she was, her image popped into his mind—the fetching way her hair curled in tendrils about her cheeks, the rest forever a silken disarray, the saucy curve of her mouth, how bright her eyes were.

Was it possible to miss someone, to feel that you knew them so well after only one night?

Zeke had never thought so before. But certain endearing habits of hers already seemed ingrained on his memory.

The way she liked to hum with the music when she danced, her tomboyish manner of leaping down from the carriage without waiting for his arm, her obvious dislike of green peas, how she spread them about on her plate to make it look as though she had eaten more.

One minute she seemed such a girl, all wonder and delight, the next a woman, alluring him with the promise of passion.

He still didn’t understand about that kiss.

There had been no resistance on her part.

Far from it. The desire he had tasted upon her lips had all but driven him wild.

It was a longing that went deeper than mere desire, some force that sent mad thoughts of ‘meeting his match’ and ‘meant to be’ tumbling through his brain.

He wasn’t good enough at examining his own emotions to explain it any better than that. He only knew that she had wanted him as he wanted her. Then why had she run away?

Funny how much it all reminded him of an incident from his boyhood, a question that he had once asked his stepmother. He’d come home sporting a shiner. Mary Lou Grosvenor had slugged him for hugging her and stealing a kiss at the back of the school yard.

“What’d she want to go and hit me for?” he’d howled indignantly while his stepmother attempted to apply ice to his eye. “I know she likes me.”

Sadie had chuckled. “Ah, Johnnie, you just can’t go up to a girl and grab her like she was a sack of flour. You have to be gentle and woo her a little.”

Woo her—it was a funny old-fashioned expression, but he had taken heed of Sadie’s advice. He never had much luck with Mary Lou, but over the years he had learned a little more finesse with the ladies—a little dining, a little dancing, some sweet phrases whispered at just the right moment.

Then why had none of that seemed to work with Rory?

Had he in the end waxed too hot with impatience, too blunt with his desires?

He didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. Even if he wanted to start all over again, and ‘woo’ her more gently, it wouldn’t be so easy to find her.

Like the fabled Cinderella, she had vanished, without leaving him so much as a slipper to track her down.

Her balloon had been removed from his lawn sometime last night.

He hadn’t even thought to inquire what circus she had been flying for, and that newlywed couple he had put up at the Waldorf were likely already gone. No one was left even to ask about her.

Zeke expelled a heavy sigh and shoved his glass away.

“Can I get you anything else, Mr. Morrison?” Mulgrew asked.

“No, thanks.” Zeke checked his watch. Six o’clock. He had waited for Addison long enough. Likely Zeke could track him down later on. Occasionally Addison did remember to go home to sleep.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Zeke pulled out his wallet. He drew forth enough to pay for his shot and leave a large tip for Mulgrew as well. As he did so, a slip of paper fluttered to the bar.

No, not a slip, a card. Zeke turned it over and read, Transcontinental Balloon Company.

Damnation! He was getting as forgetful as Addison. Suddenly he could see Rory so clearly handing him the card, himself tucking it away without another glance.

As Zeke left the hotel, all thoughts of calling upon Addison fled from his mind. Outside in the street, he summoned the nearest hansom and read off the warehouse address. Giving himself no time to reflect, he leaped inside the cab, astonished by the level of excitement coursing through his veins.

As the vehicle lurched forward, Zeke leaned back with a contented sigh, his lips curving into a slow grin.

Maybe, just maybe the fates had offered him one more chance to lure Aurora Rose Kavanaugh back into his arms and into his bed.

Cinderella hadn’t left him a glass slipper, but she had gone one better.

She had left him her business card.