Harvest Moon (Borrowed Brides 2)

“Just under five weeks.” Lee finished wiping the spill and then poured another beer for one of the customers.

David sipped his bourbon. “Why haven’t I seen you?”

“This is my third bar in five weeks,” Lee told him. “And the other two weren’t the kind of place a prominent Peaceable attorney would frequent.”

“I don’t frequent this one either. I’m only here to investigate.”

“That makes two of us.” Lee nodded as one of the saloon girls called out an order, then began filling three heavy mugs with foamy beer.

“I need to get into that room.” David reemphasized his reason for patronizing the Satin Slipper.

“There might be a way,” Lee began, “if you don’t mind mingling with the sporting girls. One in particular.”

David groaned at the prospect. His head ached from the thick cigar smoke, the clash of strong perfume and unwashed bodies, and the yeasty scent of beer and bourbon. David rubbed his fingers across his eyelids while his thumb massaged the throbbing ache in his temple. Lee slapped another shot of whiskey in front of him.

“Which one?” David was wary. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to mingle, as Lee phrased it, with one of the numerous overpainted, underwashed, overused women in the Satin Slipper unless she was passably clean and reasonably attractive.

“There she is.” The bartender nodded toward one of the saloon girls.

David looked up.

“There. The brunette with the yellow ostrich feathers in her hair. She got Tessa’s room.”

The girl was attractive despite the abundance of paint and powder, and from where David sat she appeared fairly clean. “Is she one of the…”

“Uh-huh, and it’ll cost you. Two dollars.” Lee leaned close to David’s ear as he wiped at a nonexistent spot on the bar with a white dish towel. “And I’d advise you make your transaction before Myra comes downstairs, or all hell’s liable to break loose, especially since Myra made her feelings for you pretty clear to everyone this afternoon. I’d hate to see her snatch the poor girl bald-headed.”

“Don’t remind me of this afternoon.” David shuddered.

“Just tryin’ to help out an old friend.” Lee raised one dark blond eyebrow at David. “You know the saying, ‘Hell hath no fury…’”

“All right,” David snapped.

Lee grinned as he motioned to the saloon girl wearing the bright yellow ostrich feathers in her dark curls.

The brunette made her way to the bar with a movement that should have dislocated her hips. Several men whooped and hollered at the display of her undulating buttocks. One or two patted her posterior affectionately. She laughed and teased the customers as she squeezed through the crowd around the card tables.

Lee grinned at her. “Her name’s Charlotte. Rhymes with ‘harlot,’ and believe me, the name fits. The things she can do with her mouth…” Lee broke off. “Or so I’ve heard. Here.” He slid two shot glasses of whiskey across the bar to David just as Charlotte approached.

David got to his feet, picked up one of the glasses, and handed it to the woman. “May I buy you a drink?”

“A drink and anything else you like.” She took David’s arm, pressing it against her ample breasts as she murmured in his ear.

“I like what I see.” David’s voice was a deep, husky rumble as his gaze roamed over her, moving from the top of her brown curls to the tips of her yellow satin slippers, then back up again, lingering on the length of her legs, encased in black fishnet stockings, and the curve of her breasts spilling out above the neckline of the canary satin gown. A silver and black necklace, which looked suspiciously like a rosary, hung around her neck. A silver cross dipped down into the valley between her breasts. David studied the necklace for a moment before settling his gaze on her red-painted lips. The cross was Celtic.

“I don’t usually go with a gentleman when I’m working the floor.” Charlotte leaned even closer to murmur in David’s ear. He wondered idly how the seams of her dress held together under the unusual stress placed upon them.

Behind her back, Lee rolled his eyes in disbelief at Charlotte’s blatant lie.

“Is that so?” David pretended an interest he didn’t feel.

“That’s right, sugar,” Charlotte confirmed. “But for two dollars, I’ll give you whatever your little ole heart desires.” She took David by the hand and began to lead him toward the stairs.

Lee slid David’s untouched glass of whiskey down the length of the bar. “Don’t forget this, Mr. Alexander,” Lee called out, his voice full of respectful subservience. “You’ll need it.”

David swallowed the liquor in one gulp, then slid the glass back down the bar to Lee. “Thanks.” David grimaced as the fiery liquid burned its way to his stomach.

Lee bit back a smile. “Don’t mention it.” He turned the shot glass upside down over the cork of an unopened bottle of Scots whisky and shoved the bottle toward David. “Enjoy your evening.” He winked meaningfully.