Quicksilver Passion (39 page)

Al came into the room and set the bottle and glasses next to Brett’s chair. The small blonde sat across from him, twisting her hands together nervously.
Really, Mr. Brett, you’re being awfully nice to a hired girl.”

Brett laughed and poured two drinks.
Oh, I’m very democratic. After all, Miss Jones, you’re going to be like a member of the family the way all my employes are!”

Al sneaked a look at her face. He saw the loneliness there, the eagerness to be loved and accepted. The way Brett looked at her betrayed the fact that he was smitten by her charms. Al had seen it happen before. In a week or two, the boss would tire of her, and she’d be available to any wealthy man who felt his manhood harden when he looked over the merchandise.
Is that all, boss?”

Sure, Al. You can go. Miss Jones and I are going to have a drink and discuss her duties. See that we’re not disturbed.”

The girl held up a hand in protest as Brett offered the goblet.
Oh, but I’ve never—”

Then you should try it,” Brett said smoothly and smiled as he put the glass in her hand.
It’s a vintage year. I’d be insulted if you don’t join me.”

She hesitated, but she took it, looking up at Al uncertainly. He ignored her look and busied himself around the room.

Al, I said you could go,” Brett said a little more pointedly.

Al shrugged and went out. He paused in the hall and heard Brett get up, come to the door, and lock it. Then he heard the girl’s voice, slightly nervous and protesting. Brett told her to finish her drink and he didn’t sound polite this time.

Al went down to the grandiose parlor where a few gentlemen were beginning to arrive. As always, he looked after all the details, saw to it that the gentlemen had cigars, and took their money. Brett trusted Al with every detail.

Where’s Brett?” one of the girls asked.

Busy,” Al said,
like you should be, making a little money for him.”

A gorgeous redhead laughed.
Good old loyal Al! I wonder if Brett knows what a treasure you are.”

I owe him,” Al snapped, but his mind was imagining what must be happening upstairs. Brett was a big man—a lusty man—and the girl was small and probably as innocent as she looked. For a long moment, he had a terrible urge to save the girl—to run back up those stairs, bang on the door, and stop Brett.