She'll be protected. The sheriff will have his men there, and the Pinkertons will infiltrate the house. Nothing will go wrong."
Another hour passed while they went over the plans. Devil was to stay inside the bordello and watch Emma. If anything happened upstairs, Devil would step in to help. He would make sure the auction proceeded as planned, and that the proof against Stevens and leBon would be damming. Emma would have to be at the auction no matter what.
Devil watched the men ride away. He prayed nothing bad would happen, but he didn't trust Lawrence Stevens. Devil guided Jabbar back to town, his thoughts on the night's work.
"Misha?"
The big man rode from his hiding place, a look of apprehension in his eyes. "Yes." His voice was hard.
"I want you to go to Cheyenne ."
"Now?"
Devil looked to the mountains. "Yes," he said. "I want my private car prepared for the journey east."
"I don't think this is wise."
"Perhaps not. But it's what I want. If Allah is smiling down on me, I'll have company. Don't spare any expense. And Misha, I know you will come up with a thousand and one reasons to stay. Don't. You won't change my mind."
Misha's shoulders stiffened, and his fists were clenched tight at his sides. "All right," he said. "I'll leave as soon as I get back to the hotel."
~ * ~
Angela carried the tray along the outskirts of the opulent ballroom. Scantily clad ladies danced and whirled on the parquet floor in the arms of the gentlemen here for the auction. Greed, women, and the ready availability of opium seduced the wealthy men of Denver to this spot.
She had learned a lot the last few days--too much, she'd thought at times. The ladies would drink expensive champagne, flirting all the while with gentlemen who had wives at home waiting for them. Then they'd eventually lead the eager men up the stairs covered with Oriental carpeting and into one of the fancy bedrooms. There were twenty bedrooms on the second floor, and most nights every one was in use by midnight.
Lottie had been kind to her, had told her what to expect from her first gentleman. Lottie's father had sold her and her younger sister to a bordello. Lottie had been thirteen years old, her sister twelve. At thirteen, her sister died in the whorehouse, birthing a stillborn child. From there Lottie had tried to make it on her own, only to find that without a man, she couldn't earn enough money to eat or rent a room in a respectable boardinghouse. No longer seeing the women who worked in the bordello in terms of good and evil, Angela felt her heart go out to them and the events in their lives that had brought some of them to this point.
Now as she walked up the stairs, she felt a steady gaze upon her. For a moment a sense of unease ruffled through her, but that vanished, to be replaced by a strange quivering sensation. Only Devil had ever made her feel that way.
Her nerves stretched taut, she whirled around and searched the room for him, but saw no one. He was here. He had to be--and she'd find him and twist his heart out if he thought to buy the services of one of these ladies. She reminded herself she was here for a reason, she had to stay near Emma and make sure nothing happened to her.
Yet with each step, her breathing quickened, her heart pounded. It wasn't the climb that had her panting and her knees wobbling. Devil watched her.
She smoothed then tugged at her dress, so different from the sweet yellow froth of material and the petticoats she'd worn the day they met. Now her breasts pushed invitingly from the low-cut bodice of exquisite red silk. The high cut of the hem showed a length of her leg she wanted only Devil to see.
Once she'd hoped to tempt a devil. Now she felt underdressed and wanton.
He would think she worked here. Angela sucked in her breath and pushed that thought to the back of her mind. She had a job to do.
Empowered by the knowledge he watched
Another hour passed while they went over the plans. Devil was to stay inside the bordello and watch Emma. If anything happened upstairs, Devil would step in to help. He would make sure the auction proceeded as planned, and that the proof against Stevens and leBon would be damming. Emma would have to be at the auction no matter what.
Devil watched the men ride away. He prayed nothing bad would happen, but he didn't trust Lawrence Stevens. Devil guided Jabbar back to town, his thoughts on the night's work.
"Misha?"
The big man rode from his hiding place, a look of apprehension in his eyes. "Yes." His voice was hard.
"I want you to go to Cheyenne ."
"Now?"
Devil looked to the mountains. "Yes," he said. "I want my private car prepared for the journey east."
"I don't think this is wise."
"Perhaps not. But it's what I want. If Allah is smiling down on me, I'll have company. Don't spare any expense. And Misha, I know you will come up with a thousand and one reasons to stay. Don't. You won't change my mind."
Misha's shoulders stiffened, and his fists were clenched tight at his sides. "All right," he said. "I'll leave as soon as I get back to the hotel."
~ * ~
Angela carried the tray along the outskirts of the opulent ballroom. Scantily clad ladies danced and whirled on the parquet floor in the arms of the gentlemen here for the auction. Greed, women, and the ready availability of opium seduced the wealthy men of Denver to this spot.
She had learned a lot the last few days--too much, she'd thought at times. The ladies would drink expensive champagne, flirting all the while with gentlemen who had wives at home waiting for them. Then they'd eventually lead the eager men up the stairs covered with Oriental carpeting and into one of the fancy bedrooms. There were twenty bedrooms on the second floor, and most nights every one was in use by midnight.
Lottie had been kind to her, had told her what to expect from her first gentleman. Lottie's father had sold her and her younger sister to a bordello. Lottie had been thirteen years old, her sister twelve. At thirteen, her sister died in the whorehouse, birthing a stillborn child. From there Lottie had tried to make it on her own, only to find that without a man, she couldn't earn enough money to eat or rent a room in a respectable boardinghouse. No longer seeing the women who worked in the bordello in terms of good and evil, Angela felt her heart go out to them and the events in their lives that had brought some of them to this point.
Now as she walked up the stairs, she felt a steady gaze upon her. For a moment a sense of unease ruffled through her, but that vanished, to be replaced by a strange quivering sensation. Only Devil had ever made her feel that way.
Her nerves stretched taut, she whirled around and searched the room for him, but saw no one. He was here. He had to be--and she'd find him and twist his heart out if he thought to buy the services of one of these ladies. She reminded herself she was here for a reason, she had to stay near Emma and make sure nothing happened to her.
Yet with each step, her breathing quickened, her heart pounded. It wasn't the climb that had her panting and her knees wobbling. Devil watched her.
She smoothed then tugged at her dress, so different from the sweet yellow froth of material and the petticoats she'd worn the day they met. Now her breasts pushed invitingly from the low-cut bodice of exquisite red silk. The high cut of the hem showed a length of her leg she wanted only Devil to see.
Once she'd hoped to tempt a devil. Now she felt underdressed and wanton.
He would think she worked here. Angela sucked in her breath and pushed that thought to the back of her mind. She had a job to do.
Empowered by the knowledge he watched
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