The apology surprised her, which was why she answered honestly. “I’m embarrassed, but I don’t feel as though you pressured me. I’m quite capable of saying no when necessary.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.” Exasperation momentarily eclipsed her humiliation. “As I’ve already said, I am not an innocent. You haven’t corrupted me.”
The side of his mouth hitched before he turned the knob on the door. Light from the corridor suddenly flooded the tiny room. “I’m relieved to hear it, because this was the most arousing experience of my life. I think you might’ve just corrupted me.”
Chapter Nine
Clay toed a broken bottle on the floor. Goddamn it. The police had destroyed the entire bar during the raid. Apparently, they hadn’t been able to find anything illegal during their search so they’d turned their attention to smashing the liquor instead.
Those pricks.
A partnership with Big Bill notwithstanding, Clay’s payments to police commissioners were supposed to prevent this sort of thing from happening. Now he had a ruined bar, thousands of dollars of spilled liquor, broken chairs and tables . . . Not to mention a night of lost revenue. Bill would regret ordering a raid on the Bronze House.
The brothel . . . Jesus, but Florence had been amazing. Unexpected. Absolutely enthralling. And he wasn’t one to throw compliments around loosely. Hearing her pleasure, her cries of ecstasy as she came . . . Fuck, he’d never experienced anything like it.
He wanted to do it again. Next time, facing her. Touching her. Helping her.
Would she let him?
After announcing his attraction to her, he’d been resigned to keeping things impersonal between them. He’d convinced himself not to pursue anything physical with a woman like Florence. It would only make things complicated. Messy. And Clay hated both.
But having Florence naked, beneath him, could make the complication worthwhile.
“All told, not too bad,” Jack said from across the room. His partner was striding around the pieces of furniture and coming toward Clay, Annabelle at his side.
“Who was it?” he asked Jack.
“Let’s see. I recognized Harris and McGinnis. The others were all young, too stupid to realize what they were doing.”
Clay wasn’t surprised. Harris and Big Bill were of the same ilk, both on the take from every gin palace, brothel and saloon in the Tenderloin. Clay pressed his shoe deep in the carpet, which squished from all the liquid on the floor. “I honestly didn’t think he was this stupid.”
“Yes, well. Bill’s never been known for intellect. Thinks he has you cornered and can get more.”
They both knew Bill was wrong. “The question is, what do we do first? Share the evidence of his mistress with his wife or call in the note on the Brooklyn townhouse?”
“I vote mistress,” Annabelle said, a gleam in her eyes. “His wife will make his life an ever-loving hell.”
“Done. See that it happens, Jack, will you?”
“With pleasure. Shall we get a team of maids in here?”
Clay pointed at the mess. “Have the boys carry out the broken glass and wood first. Carpets will need to be replaced.”
Jack nodded but studied Clay carefully. “Hmm. I thought you’d be angrier about all this.”
“I am angry.”
“Are you? I’ve seen you angry and this seems quite different. Or perhaps next door with Miss Greene—”
“Stop. Do not finish that sentence.” Both Jack and Annabelle broke out into laughter, and Clay ground his teeth together. “Don’t you both have better things to do than stand around and irritate me?”
Jack held up his hands and turned to Annabelle. “I’ll leave him to you, Anna, while I try to get the club cleaned up.”
“No need for you to stay, either,” Clay told her.
“Nonsense,” she said. “You clearly need my help.”
“Do I?” He leaned down to pick up two large pieces of broken glass and set them on the bar. “Watch your feet.”
She bent to carefully retrieve a broken bottle. “So you and Miss Greene.”
He didn’t say anything. Replying merely encouraged Anna’s meddling.
“I know something happened in that tiny room tonight. You may deny it all you want.”
“Perhaps it’s none of your business. And why did you put us in there to begin with?”
“Because the police would never find that room should they come to search the brothel. And you’re welcome.” She placed another bottle on the bar. “Admit it, you both liked the show.”
Florence had certainly appreciated it, but Clay didn’t tell Anna that. “It was highly inappropriate.”
“I figure any woman who hires you for mentoring lessons can take watching a little slap and tickle. And you do seem . . . relaxed. I think I like this woman even more.”
“Me, too.” Unfortunately.
“I’m glad to hear you say it. Jack did mention that your plans for the East Seventy-Ninth Street casino are moving forward. I assume you’re putting off such plans for Miss Greene’s benefit, considering they involve tearing down her grandmother’s home.”
Not ruin Duncan Greene and his family home? Clay couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t see this through. “Absolutely not. And my issue is with her father, not her grandmother.”
“I can’t imagine that distinction will matter to her.”
“Nothing changes. She doesn’t get a say in how I run my affairs, no matter what happens between us.” Anna made a noise in her throat, one that had Clay narrowing his eyes. “You don’t believe me.”
“I have known you a long time, so I’m going to give you a piece of advice.” She put a hand on Clay’s arm. “Do not start anything with her if you are still intending to ruin her family. It’s cruel, Clay. And while you are many things, you are not intentionally cruel to the innocent.”
“Duncan Greene is not innocent.”
“He is not his daughter, however.”
“One has nothing to do with the other—and I’m not planning on courting Florence Greene. Stop worrying about her.”
“Women must worry about other women,” she snapped. “God knows men won’t do it.”
His skin heated with irritation. “I will do whatever the fuck I want with Florence Greene and my plans for her father haven’t changed.”
She dropped a piece of glass on the bar then dusted her hands off. “I see. Indeed, excuse me for caring. You know, if you push people away then one day your revenge will be all you have left.”
An apology tried to force its way out of his throat but he swallowed it down. He’d already explained his need for revenge to Florence and it hadn’t stopped her from coming here. Clearly, she wasn’t concerned over her father’s future. “Noted,” was all he said.
Anna’s face fell, anger seemingly draining right out of her. “I don’t wish to fight with you. I only want to see you happy.”
“I will be once I have my revenge on Duncan Greene. And I don’t wish to fight, either. Other than Jack, you’re my oldest friend.”