“If we do this, will you abandon your plans of revenge against my father?”
“No.”
One word, said with such finality that her stomach sank. There would be no changing his mind. “Then I cannot. I would never forgive myself for being intimate with someone intending to hurt my family.”
“One has nothing to do with the other.”
Did he honestly believe such nonsense? “That’s absurd. Of course they do.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, the black topcoat pulling across his shoulders and biceps. “If you think to push me into a corner, Florence, I have to tell you, I will not be pushed.”
“I am not pushing you. I am merely expressing my opinion. And I won’t sleep with a man attempting to ruin my family.”
“I am not trying to ruin your family. Only your father.”
“Now you’re splitting hairs.”
He growled deep in his throat and stalked to the fireplace, where he propped an elbow on the mantel. The fire popped and hissed as the moment stretched. They were at an impasse, and Florence had no intention of bending on this. How could she? While she might occasionally engage in reckless behavior, she loved her family.
“Does it help if I tell you that it’s not life threatening or physically harming? That I don’t plan on ruining him financially?”
Hmm. Yes, she did find that somewhat reassuring. Not enough to drop the subject, however. “So why not tell me what you’re planning?”
“Because I won’t. It’s a risk I am unwilling to take.”
She drew herself up. “Then sleeping with you is a risk I am unwilling to take.”
His eyes narrowed, the scars on his face twisting in his displeasure. “I don’t care for games, Florence.”
“Funny, coming from a man who owns a casino. And I am not playing a game. I am being honest with you, mister eye-for-an-eye.”
“Not entirely honest. You want to sleep with me.”
“I never denied that. But intimacy is about trust, which we do not yet have.”
“Don’t we?” He pushed away from the fireplace and thrust his hands on his hips. “Do you have any idea of the trust I’ve placed in you? I’ve told you and shown you things hardly anyone knows. People would kill for the knowledge you’ve gained in this club.”
She hadn’t thought of their lessons in such a way but she supposed he was right. “Fine. You trust me, but I do not trust you.”
His mouth tightened, his expression darkening into something fierce and ugly. “Then I believe our lessons are done for the night, Miss Greene. The door is behind you.”
Chapter Ten
Though his lips were still tingling from kissing her, Clay tried not to be hurt. He’d had much worse things said to him over the years, insults he’d hardly registered. Yet, this one sentence from an uptown debutante had twisted his insides and set them on fire.
You trust me, but I do not trust you.
Fucking ridiculous. He’d looked out for her since the moment she had crossed the threshold of this club. Had rescued her from that saloon when she’d been accused of cheating. Hid her during the raid. Christ, he’d done nothing but keep that woman safe and give her total honesty.
He’d even informed her of his hatred toward her father.
Yet, despite all that, she didn’t trust him.
He waited for her to say something, to apologize, anything. Yet, she merely stared at him with blazing eyes and stiff shoulders. “You cannot bully me into trusting you.”
“Kissing you is not bullying you.”
“No, I’m talking about the way you are scowling at me.”
Was he scowling?
“It’s my face, Florence. And unless you’re ready to admit you trust me, then we’re done for the night.”
Fury sparked in her eyes, her nostrils flaring ever so slightly as she stood taller. A warrior queen, a woman afraid of nothing. The sight impressed him, even if he was equally angry with her.
A quick rap on the door sounded before Jack poked his head inside. “Clay, you have a visitor. Are you free?”
“I was just leaving,” Florence said, her chin raised high. “Some people in this room are acting in an unreasonable manner.”
“I see,” Jack murmured, his gaze darting between Clay and Florence.
Clay didn’t try to stop her. She didn’t trust him. There wasn’t much more to say at the moment. “Come in, Jack.”
Jack pushed open the door and stepped aside to let the newcomer enter. Richard Crain appeared. Crain was a barrel-chested man who’d come up through the Tammany political ranks with their current mayor, Hugh Grant. As the city’s chamberlain, he held considerable power, serving basically as the mayor’s deputy. Clay had known him for years and Crain had proven invaluable on many occasions.
“Madden.” Crain entered the room then stopped as he noticed Florence. “Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all,” he said. “Have a seat.”
Florence gave Clay a smile that was all teeth before turning toward the door. “Yes, we are definitely finished here.” She sailed past Jack and out the door, disappearing into the corridor. Clay gave Jack a pointed look and his partner disappeared. Jack would follow Florence to ensure she was safely seen off in a hansom.
Clay forced himself to relax and shook Crain’s hand. “Welcome, Richard. This is unexpected. Would you care for a drink?”
“No, that’s not necessary.” Crain dropped into a chair and crossed one leg over his opposite knee. “I came to update you.”
And collect his fee, no doubt. “On?”
“Things are progressing on all fronts. Your architect’s plans have been approved.”
“That is excellent news.” He should feel elated at this, but he was still preoccupied with Florence. Why was she so difficult?
And why did he want her so desperately?
“You know I am personally looking out for your interests,” Crain said when Clay fell silent. “Come hell or high water you’ll get what you want.”
“Exactly what I wish to hear. Appreciate it, Crain.”
“Though I should point out that Duncan Greene has many powerful friends in this city. Are you prepared for the storm these plans will unleash?”
Clay ground his molars together and tried not to react. Goddamn Duncan Greene. Had those powerful friends any idea of how Greene had kicked several families out of their homes just to build an office building? That man deserved all the retribution Clay had planned, and then some.
Reclining in his chair, he said, “Thank you for the warning, but I will be ready for whatever storm is unleashed.”
Jack reappeared and came inside Clay’s office. He dipped his chin, reaffirming that Florence had been seen off. Clay was both relieved and enraged at her departure. More than anything, he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. And a bottle of bourbon.
He withdrew a fat package wrapped in brown paper from his desk drawer and handed it directly to Crain. “There you go.”
Crain smiled, a slick grin of avarice and entitlement that would turn Clay’s stomach if he hadn’t seen it countless times on different men in this city. Unfortunately, success here meant playing by their rules, which meant paying out stacks of money to corrupt officials.