Page 25 of The Gilded Lady (The Gilded West #3)

Chapter Thirteen

G lory sat at the bar in the large dining room waiting for Sally to join her for a chat before the evening rush began.

It was very early in the evening yet and other than a few men playing cards in one of the gaming rooms and a private meeting in one of the salons, the house was quiet.

Sally was set to perform again later tonight, so Glory expected the rush to come closer to the performance time.

Since many men had undoubtedly left town after the faro tournament the day before, it’d likely be a less hectic night.

For that, she was grateful. Gone were the days she and Able were anxious about a few slow nights.

Madam Marin had left them with some debt and had cleaned out the bank account before leaving for her retirement in San Francisco.

That first year had been agonizing and full of constant worry about paying back the loan while keeping the staff in food and clothing.

Glory was grateful they’d made it through.

Now she could sit in peace and chat with an old friend.

It really was the little things in life for which she’d learned to be grateful.

Sally planned to leave in the morning and Glory felt as if she’d barely been able to see her friend with the shadow of uncertainty looming over her this week.

Taking a deep breath, Glory resolved not to think of that letter for the next few minutes.

Instead she closed her eyes and listened to the peaceful notes of the piano coming from the ballroom.

Janie sometimes liked to practice in the early evenings before they got too busy.

“He’s rather partial to you, you know.”

Glory turned from her seat at the bar to see Sally walking across the room toward her.

If the woman had spoken any louder, the entire room would’ve heard her.

The entire room consisting of Penelope behind the bar, Zane sketching as he spoke to Charlotte near the cold fireplace, and a customer eating a solitary meal across the room.

He glanced up at Sally but went back to eating and reading the book opened on the table next to his plate.

Penelope gave Glory a knowing smile, but, thankfully, Zane and Charlotte seemed undisturbed by the proclamation. With any luck, he hadn’t heard Sally.

Waiting until her longtime friend had made her way through the maze of empty tables to find a seat beside her, Glory said, “I suppose I don’t need to ask about whom you’re referring.”

The woman gave an unladylike snort and threw her head back. “Penelope, be a dear and get us a couple of brandies.” Getting herself settled on the well-padded seat of the stool, she said, “I think you know very well that I mean tall, dark, and handsome across the room there, doll.”

Glory followed her gaze to Zane. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his lips forming a nearly straight line as he focused on the sketch. The graphite pencil held between his surprisingly long and graceful fingers moved skillfully across the page.

“Do you think he’s so focused in bed?” Sally’s whiskey voice interrupted her study of him.

“Sally!” Glory felt her cheeks flame.

“What?” The woman managed to look perfectly innocent until she smirked, her gaze drifting over to him again.

“Can’t you imagine all of that intensity focused on you?

” She gave a shimmy of delight that made Glory laugh.

The sound drew Zane’s attention. Frowning, he looked up to see what the ruckus was all about, and Glory turned back to her friend, feeling very much like a schoolgirl caught watching him.

She could very much imagine what Sally had said. She could imagine it so well that she didn’t need any help from Sally. “That’s inappropriate.” Her scolding lacked any heat though, especially when she couldn’t stop herself from glancing back at him.

“Come now.” Sally gently shoved her shoulder against Glory’s. “It’s not that inappropriate.”

“He’s an employee.” The shop had sent over the suit earlier, so he was wearing it in preparation for the evening.

The coat was spread tight across his shoulders, and the waistcoat emphasized his narrow waist. It looked good on him.

More than good. He looked like he’d been born to the suit, while somehow retaining that untamed sense of danger that was such a part of who he was.

Maybe it was the scar on his face, hinting at the wild things he was capable of.

“Bah. He’s not going to be here for long, is he?”

“No, I suppose not.” The words came out a little more forlorn than she’d have liked.

Penelope set down their brandies and leaned forward. “I have to agree with Sally. He’s smitten.”

Was their attraction that transparent? Even if it was, she had a hard time attributing such a tame word to him.

“Smitten” didn’t suit him at all. Zane simply wasn’t a man to become smitten with anyone.

He might like her. He might want to sleep with her, but he’d never be smitten.

Those were two very different beasts. Lust was lust. Smitten implied something more and she wasn’t ready to believe someone like him could feel that way about someone like her.

They were different. He was the wind, traveling the world wild and free; she was a tree…

she frowned at the analogy. Maybe not a tree.

A flower then. A rosebush with her roots firmly in the ground.

Their paths might cross from time to time when he rustled her petals, but it wasn’t something that could last. He might be all tender and gentle with her now, but the truth of the matter was that he wouldn’t be around long.

He wouldn’t have the patience for dealing with her and her particular issues.

Even if he did, what would be the point?

He’d be leaving. She didn’t want something frivolous and fleeting. She was surrounded by that every day.

He’d made it clear he wanted more, at least physically.

They’d kissed. That didn’t mean he was smitten, but she couldn’t help but wonder what the others saw.

Picking up her brandy, she took a small sip, telling herself that it didn’t matter.

The liquid warmed her as it went down to settle in her belly.

She hardly ever drank the stuff, but tonight was special since Sally would be leaving tomorrow.

She meant to talk more about her friend, but when she opened her mouth that’s not what came out.

“What makes you say that?”

“I asked him back to my room a few days ago and he turned me down.” Penelope shrugged. “Said it was because you told him to keep his hands to himself while he’s here, but I saw the way he watched you.” She gave Glory a good-natured smile. “He’d have turned me down anyway.”

Glory couldn’t stop the smile that curved her lips, so she took another sip of brandy to hide it.

She told herself it was because she was glad he’d followed her rule of not fraternizing with her staff, but deep down she knew it was because she didn’t want to think of him with another woman.

“It’s nothing. Obviously, he’s handsome.

I think he does find me attractive, but we’re not schoolchildren. We know that it’s not meant to be.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment as she turned back to finish stocking the bar for the evening rush.

Sally drank some of her brandy and shook her head, opened her mouth, and then closed it only to shake her head again.

“What do you want to say?” Glory prodded. The woman had never been known to keep a comment to herself.

“Only that some things never change, I guess.”

“What does that mean?” Glory was afraid that she knew very well what that meant. Her celibacy, while no one’s business, had seemed to become an interesting topic of conversation of late.

Sally grinned, turning her glass around and around on the polished mahogany of the bar top. “You try to keep yourself too safe, Glory. That’s all I meant. Live a little. You like him, and it’s no secret he likes you. See what happens.”

“It’s not quite as easy as that, believe me, if it was I might take your advice.”

“Oh, really?” Sally raised a doubtful eyebrow. “How come it’s not so easy? Have a little fun. You both clearly want to.” She grinned and whispered, “In case no one has told you, you don’t have to be married to explore your physical urges.”

Glory rolled her eyes at the woman’s crude snicker.

Then she raised her shoulder in a defensive shrug and took another sip of brandy to keep from answering right away.

The truth was that some demons were easier not to face.

Did she like kissing him? Of course she did, but she didn’t like the panic that had followed that kiss.

She didn’t like all the strange feelings she didn’t know how to handle.

The fear, the doubt, the nearly overwhelming certainty that all of that wasn’t worth the passing pleasure of kissing him when he would be leaving her life anyway.

“I…I have issues with…” It was as close as she’d ever come to admitting the truth to another living soul.

“With men,” Sally finished for her. Turns out everyone had probably already figured that out as well. “I know. But you’re missing out on something you clearly want, doll. Give it a try. See what happens. Do you trust him?”

Glory nodded without even having to think about the question. She did trust him.

Say yes to me. She could still hear his husky voice as he uttered that command.

A shiver of longing worked its way through her body, and she glanced over at him again.

He must have sensed her attention because he looked up from the sketch.

The heat of his gaze warmed her cheeks like a tangible caress. How could he do that with only a look?

“Then you’ve got nothing to lose,” Sally whispered over her shoulder.