“Sure,” Royal said, sitting on his bed again. “Some vacation. Get a whole lot of scars having fun, don’t you? Down mines, up mountains, on horses no sane man would spit at—when are you going to find out what play is. Gray?”
“Maybe work’s my play,” Gray said lightly. “Lord knows I don’t have to work, do I?”
“Maybe not,” Royal admitted. “But I never saw a man work harder. Maybe you feel you have to, and maybe I even understand that; you don’t want to feel someone else is doing for you, not even if that someone’s your big brother. But Josh wants you in New York with him real bad. You’d work there, too, but you’d save yourself some pain.”
“Uh-huh,” Gray said, his clear blue eyes lit with laughter, “but maybe not. Them paper cuts hurt something fierce,” he drawled, “and I hear a man can do some real damage to himself with a pencil—never know which ones have splinters on them. No thanks. I’ll stay where I am. But not just now. I need a bath.”
He whistled as he walked into the luxurious bathroom that separated their adjoining rooms, but once he’d got the water running, he stopped. And stared so long, not moving, as the water filled the massive marble tub, that it almost overran it before he became aware that his trousers were getting damp where it began to slop over the bathtub brim he was perched on. Then he sighed, shucked off his trousers, and stepped into the tub, immersing himself in the pleasure of the hot water, which was so profound, he scarcely shuddered as it covered over his scraped side.
It was a long, muscular body that lay at ease in the huge tub. The down of golden hair that decorated it was neither dark nor heavy enough to hide all the scars it bore. It would have to be a furry pelt to do that. The woman he’d bought tonight hadn’t noticed, of course, because like many women with pretensions to gentility—and those were the ones he was most attracted to—she’d insisted on leaving on a few provocative scraps of clothing, and hadn’t commented on his nudity at all. It was unsatisfactory, he thought, as usual, and not just because of the hurried, pointless coupling it had been. He wasn’t sure any woman would findhis naked body particularly attractive, and never believed those that had said they did. It was, after all, he conceded ruefully, a pretty badly battered object.
But unlike the women who’d seen him whole, he was in no position to judge the random cruelties that had left their mark on the otherwise sculpturally perfect male body. There were ancient statues of warriors that were no less maimed and no more beautiful. Only his left leg might be considered truly unsightly. It bore a crosshatched design of thick and thin scars from an old accident, as well as from the surgery that had tried to correct it. But it was as strong and well shaped as the other leg despite its surface, the defect lay too deep to show except when it was stressed. And maybe. Gray thought, closing his eyes, it was the same with the man it belonged to.
Because he felt damned stupid tonight.
Sure, he thought bitterly, he’d convinced himself it was necessary to track down a couple of women to bed so as to cheer up Royal. He always had some excuse for his needs, after all. But Royal didn’t need cheering. He needed a woman of his own, one he could build a life of his own with, just as he’d said. Gray could sympathize with that, he only wondered now why he hadn’t even tried to. Because that was, after all, what he’d been trying to make for himself for years now. Only on his own. And although he’d come damn near to killing himself trying, he admitted, he still didn’t feel he’d made it.
Maybe, he thought, his eyes widening to their most brilliant blue as he gazed blankly into the steamy room. Royal had the right of it, and that was what he needed; a wife. Maybe it was his single state that kept him feeling perennially a boy, eternally in his brother’s shadow and debt. It was, he thought wonderingly, as he absently soaped his aching body, a possibility. Only he was in no better position to find a decent woman than Royal was. Their similarities were that they both had enough looks, intelligence, and money to set them apart from other men. But women were scarce, and they both lived on a remote ranch. The difference was that Royal was less experienced with the world outside the West. Gray traveled the country often, had gone to college in the East, visited New York frequently, been to Europe, and had more money than most men in the country—or any other, for that matter.
If Royal hadn’t met enough ranchers’ daughters, Gray had. If Gray hadn’t frequented as many whores as Royal had, he’d bought as many women who’ddifferent names for their trade. But they both needed women, and thought about them even more often than they’d had them. Which was. Gray thought on a semi-sad grin, considerable.
By the time Gray rose from the water at last, he’d decided that maybe it was time for them both to settle down. He didn’t think of love, because having never experienced the kind he’d read about or seen his brother share with his wife, he didn’t know if it was something he’d ever know. He’d sure liked a lot of women, he thought on a chuckle. But marriage? Maybe if he found one he liked well enough…there might be, in that settling down, the chance for the content that had escaped him all his life. It was worth a try; he’d tried most everything else.
He was a man who made up his mind quickly, the more so when the facts were all in, and they were. So much so that he’d an inkling that the idea was not as new to him as he’d believed it to be. It must have been flirting around the edges of his consciousness for some time now, showing up most in the new disappointment he’d found with all his old easy pleasures. The only question that remained in his mind as he stood drying himself, was where to search for the right woman.
He decided he needed a woman handsome enough to make love to frequently, and either passionate or generous enough to let him: someone smart enough to share his thoughts with, and wise enough to help him find his dream. It would be nice if he could like her as much as desire her, it would be nicer if he could like her as much as a friend. He decided, with a sudden sense of wonder that turned to a glow of pleasure, that he’d like her to give him children, too. In turn, he’d give her fidelity, financial security, and as much love as he was capable of. It should do. He was very good at business, and it seemed a fair deal to him.
But eastern girls, friends of his sister-in-law or sisters of his college friends, shivered at the thought of living in the barbaric West. And he meant to stay in the West. Western girls, at least those he’d met, didn’t have the elegance he admired in eastern girls. The other women he met were professionals of one kind or another, and while he’d no objection to an experienced wife, he did object to the idea of marrying an experienced whore. But he’d learned not to be a dreamer, and doubted he could find what he’d always needed just because he’d suddenly decided to go look for it. He’d settle for the best he could get. The problem was where to find that.
Still, all problems had a solution. And he didn’t mind working hard to find one. Even if that meant playing hard—especially, he thought on a grin, if that meant playing hard.
“Royal,” he announced as he strode into Royal’s room, waking his foreman and friend from the first stages of sleep. “Guess what? Vacation’s over. We’re through playing. We’re going to find you a wife. And then see if she’s got a friend.”
Chapter Five
The lobby was full, but it was such a huge place that even so, it wasn’t crowded. The many mirrors on all the high walls doubled and redoubled the busy scene, reflecting the red carpets and golden draperies as well as the well-dressed people awaiting their turn at the reservations desk, or simply waiting for whatever other reasons people did when they seemed to be loitering in grand hotel lobbies. Many in the group that stood in the center of the lobby were too busy stealing glances at themselves in the mirrors to properly take in all the grandeur about them. But they were, after all, performers. Hannah had no such trouble. She frankly stared all around herself, as amazed as she was delighted.
She and all the others in the troupe had been so since they’d arrived in Denver this morning. The city was everything Kyle promised. It was no New York, of course, but they hadn’t expected that. It was hard to tell just what they’d expected after the towns Kyle had dragged them through so far. But Denver showed every sign of prosperity and civilization they were accustomed to: the streets were clogged by gentlemen’s carriages and family coaches, as well as horse buses and farm wagons; there were new, impressive buildings and rows of fantastically ornate millionaire’s residences, as well as rows of shacks, shanties, and a huge crib district. The city was obviously new, and more obviously unfinished, but it was a true city, one they could recognize. And now this huge hotel they were checking into, the Windsor, was every bit as elegant as Kyle had promised.
Hannah glanced from the shining wood and marble reception desks to the plush chairs and divans set out for the guests, to the potted palms in their polished brass containers, and she sighed with gratification. She’d been about to lose faith in Kyle Harper and this whole endeavor. But here they were. She’d seen many great hotels in New York City, this one compared to any of them.
“Do yer think,” Peggy whispered nervously, “that I should stay here with ye? I mean,” she said, her hazel eyes wider than Hannah had ever seen them, “I’m no performer, nor even a managing sort of person, like yerself. I’m help-like,” she tried to explain, unaware that she’d crept so close to Hannah that her new friendcould almost fancy she heard her rapid heartbeat from where it obviously was in her throat.
“Nonsense,” Hannah said bracingly. “You’ll stay with me, unless Kyle runs mad and decides to get us all single rooms,” she added. She smiled and lifted her chin higher, discovering that having someone to comfort gave her more courage, because the magnificence of the place and its patrons had begun to make her feel insignificant and poorly dressed herself. “After all,” she went on, “that’s the wonder of democracy, if you can pay the rent, you belong. You’ll see. We’re all just a bit travel-stained, and these people have had time to dress up.” And down and all the way around, she thought with a little less confidence, eyeing the plumes on the hats, the furs on the backs, and the diamonds on the necks of some of the women as they passed by.
Kyle had got to the top of the line, and now seemed to be arguing with the desk clerk, who snapped his fingers and summoned a haughtier gentleman to also confer with them. Hannah hoped he’d get their rooms soon, because for all she knew that money was a great equalizer, she saw several members of the troupe looking a bit anxious where they stood in a clot with her and some others, waiting for Kyle to return to them. A few others, Hannah noted, were standing apart, looking so theatrically bored that they immediately caught the eye. Lottie did, and she’d also put on lip rouge, which no actress did unless she was on the stage, or it was late at night, or she wanted everyone to know her for what she was—which in Lottie’s case was certainly more than theatrical, Hannah thought with such sudden annoyance that she shocked herself.
Because she wasn’t the only one to have gotten that impression. And whereas Hannah didn’t mind the stout gentleman with his thumbs in his vest gazing at Lottie consideringly, nor the old gray-mustached fellow with slicked-back hair who was ogling her openly, the sight of two young gentlemen paused in their tracks to look at her as they left the gilt elevator was quite another story.
They were both tall, well-made men in impeccable clothing, the sort one might expect to find in any good neighborhood in New York City. Except that few men anywhere looked quite as handsome as they did, and no men in New York were so tanned. One remarked something to the other as they gazed at Lottie. He was a jot taller, and had craggy features in a long, pleasant face. But it was the other Hannah continued to stare at, because she told herself, of his splendid coloring.He’d hair the color of sunlight, and as he watched Lottie, his handsome face grew a smile as bright and warming as that, too. But, what a pity! Hannah noted, for he’d a scar on his cheek and another on his chin…It wasn’t until his eyes had traveled from Lottie to assess the group she stood apart from, that Hannah could see that those eyes were as bright and clear blue as the western skies she’d been under this morning. Because now he was smiling and staring directly at her. In that second, she smiled back, as enchanted with him as he’d been with Lottie. A half second later she realized what she was doing, and rather than scurry beneath a couch, or hide behind a potted palm, she called on all her training and congratulated herself on how calmly she managed to turn and look away.
“Now that you’ve scared her half to death, can we go?” Royal asked Gray, as Gray stood and watched the dark-haired beauty turn the color of the crimson carpets and then pale as ice, as she primmed that luscious mouth and jerked her head around to stare fixedly anywhere but at him.
“I was hoping she’d faint, so we could come to the rescue,” Gray answered. “Don’t know how else we can make her acquaintance.”
“Wait and find out her room number, maybe?” Royal suggested.
“What a brilliant idea!” Gray congratulated him.
