Rags to Rubies (16 page)

Jared remembered his one-sided conversation with Zia Bruna as he waited for Grace this evening, her broken English hard to follow but her message crystal clear.

I speak because she has no one else, no Padre, no Nonno. Graciella is a good girl. Innocente. I see in your eyes what you want, but I see too your heart from when you were a boy. Innocente. Rispetto—for your own sake.

A prophecy or a warning? He’d been forced to admit, at least to himself, that he felt more than protectiveness, more than simple lust. The feeling had no name. He only knew he wanted to be with her. He bent to kiss her lightly, a male’s stamp of possession. He would go where the night led them.

Jared bought two ginger ales and, after they were seated, reached into his jacket’s pocket for a flask and poured some gin into each cup.

He held one out to her. She hesitated.

“It’s not a crime to drink liquor, Grace,” he reminded her, “only to sell, make, or transport the stuff. Hell, most people who could afford it stocked up long before the law took place.”

“I know. It’s rumored the University Club has a fifteen-year supply of good wine put up in its cellar,” she admitted. “Even Aunt Bruna thinks the drys are over the top. Of course, Aunt Bruna enjoys a glass of wine with her pasta. Maybe two,” she chuckled.

She took a generous sip of the liquor, and they both settled in to await the rise of the red velvet curtain. Soon, the costumed trumpeters announced the five-minute curtain call, the lights dimmed, and the show began.

During the show Jared glanced at her occasionally, gauging if she found the bawdy Miss West offensive, but Grace seemed to be enjoying the show immensely. At one point she leaned toward him and whispered, “I think Miss West is going to cross the line soon. It should be interesting.”

So it was no surprise when the wicked Miss West adlibbed a truly shocking double entendre that had half the audience gasping in horror and the other half laughing uproariously. Unfortunately, the curtain fell after that scene and never rose again. The authorities closed the show as predicted, giving it all the notoriety the actress had worked so hard to achieve.

The parade of expensive limousines made their way east after the theater emptied, everyone on their way to any one of the dozens of restaurants and speakeasies in the theater district. Mr. Cobb’s uncanny sense had him waiting nearby with the locomobile as they exited the theater.

“That was wonderful.” Grace sighed contentedly, curling her legs under her on the seat and resting her head on Jared’s shoulder.

“You only saw half the show,” he chuckled. “A woman who is easy to please. You are exceptional, Grace.” Jared checked a gold pocket watch at the end of a fob he pulled from his waistcoat pocket. “What would you like to do now? We have dinner reservations at Sardi’s, but not until eleven o’clock.”

“Do you know where Texas Guinan’s place is?”

“Of course,” Jared answered. The popular speakeasy, run by the notorious Texas Guinan, was one of the most successful operations in the city. An amazing fact, considering there were over thirty-two thousand such establishments, and few were owned and operated by a woman. Jared liked the flamboyant redhead, who usually greeted her customers with a call of, “Hello, suckers! Just leave your wallets on the bar,” after they gained entry past several burly guards stationed at the locked entrance to check for familiar faces.

“Henry, Miss Guinan’s place, if you please.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Oh, yes!” Grace took in the nightclub scene before her. Though most speakeasies had expensive liquor and mediocre food, the atmosphere of forbidden fun drew the crowds. A colorful floorshow topped the bill.

Jared had been greeted very enthusiastically by Texas, who kissed him full on the mouth before she acknowledged Grace’s presence. Grace had the good sense to look tolerant but not acquiescent.

Texas appeared amused by his date’s reaction. Most female patrons were either awed or cowed by Miss Guinan’s forceful personality. He tried to remove himself from the embrace without causing Texas any embarrassment. At the same time he was equally cognizant of Grace’s delicate sensibilities about men who pursued multiple liaisons.

“Is she more than a friend?” Grace asked when they were seated at a table.

“No, but she’s a good friend to have.” He felt a kinship to Texas Guinan that went beyond her nightclub. “You always know where you stand with her. She made a success of her business in a male-dominated occupation. Does things her way. I respect that.”

He glanced around at the smartly appointed tables. “The rich flock to her establishment. She probably has acquired more money than most of them could ever imagine, but she isn’t one of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s invited to their homes and parties as a curiosity, an enigma. Society mavens consider it gauche for a person to obtain wealth all in one lifetime rather than over generations.”

And Jared knew, too, that despite all his power and wealth, despite Ravenhall, and despite his many business enterprises worldwide, like Texas he was still an outsider.

“But you are on Mrs. Astor’s Four Hundred List.”

“Yes, but I’ve never felt comfortable with it.” The social demigoddess and her friends would never dare to shun him and his wealth, but he knew the rules: old money trumped new money.

Besides, he was Catholic. The nuns at Angel Guardian had seen to that, and the highest ranks of society looked down on those of Catholic faith. Only a chosen few could still keep their place in society.

It wasn’t unusual for him to feel alone even when surrounded by throngs of people who professed to be his friends at the weeklong parties thrown on country estates where the beautiful people went to be seen.

Grace seemed about to argue the point when Jared looked up and winced. A dapper-looking, slightly inebriated man held out his hand. “Why, Jared, old man, when did you get back to town? Agnes will be furious she missed you.”

He clapped Jared on the back and wavered slightly. “And who is this choice bit of calico with you?” He leaned low to take Grace’s hand, kissing the inside of her wrist above her kid gloves, boldly admiring the décolletage the silver dress allowed.

Jared saw red. The anger came at him like a bolt from the blue, two-fisted and sharp, multiplied by the fact that the man was a friend. Stunned by the power of it, Jared forcibly attempted to tamp down the spiraling gush of possessiveness. Didn’t he owe it to Zia Bruna to protect Grace? After all, he had promised to look after her, so it was perfectly natural that he wanted to punch the man’s face in for having the gall to stare down her dress.

“Hello, Will,” Jared said through a firmly set mouth.

Grace looked exceptionally provocative tonight. Will wouldn’t know that she was off limits; his friend would figure Grace was just another pippin in a long string of willing females.

He gritted his teeth. “May I present Miss Grace Hathaway. Grace this is William Talbot. A friend.”

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Talbot.”

Jared saw Grace glance at the wedding band on Will’s hand. If he admitted that Grace was from out of town and staying with him, Will would surmise things about her that weren’t true.

“Why have you kept this gem hidden away, you devil?” Will asked.

“To keep lecherous vermin like you from feeding on her innocence.” The blatant insult, delivered with a deadpan expression, had Will hesitating for the briefest moment before he threw back his head, laughing robustly. Jared eventually smiled and heard Grace emit a tight breath.

“Where is the rest of the crowd tonight?” Jared inquired. Not that he particularly wanted company.

“Paul Whiteman is performing at the Astor with his group, The Rhythm Boys. I hear the new singer, Bing Crosby, is a pip. I’m on my way there now. Why don’t you and Miss Hathaway join us?” Aside he whispered to Jared, “A new peach will drive the mums crazy.” His fingers smoothed his pencil-thin John Gilbert mustache.

“Maybe we will.”

Taking Grace’s gloved hand again, Will pleaded, “If I know old Jare here, he’ll want to keep you all to himself tonight, so be a doll, Miss Hathaway, and promise to show.”

Grace smiled and allowed Will to kiss her hand once again. “We would love to join you, Will. It’s been ages since I’ve been to the Astor Hotel. I’ll make sure Jared keeps his promise.”

Talbot grinned at Jared triumphantly and, bowing, donned his bowler hat and headed in a somewhat wobbly manner toward the door.

Jared poured Grace a second glass of champagne and drained the rest of the bottle into his own glass. The women in the crowd at the Astor were shameless piranhas and would like nothing better than to sharpen their teeth on the likes of Grace Hathaway. And he realized he did want her to himself tonight. He wanted to undress her and do all the lascivious things that he had mentally accused Will of wanting.

He sipped his champagne. A torch singer draped herself across a piano singing “East of the Moon, West of the Stars” in a throaty velvet voice. Grace looked beautiful, with a crooked smile that seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face tonight. He wanted to touch her, so he did, softly, toying with a curl that had escaped at the nape of her neck. He felt her shiver, but she didn’t pull away, keeping her eyes on the singer for a long moment.

Then she turned swiftly and, pulling him close by the lapels of his jacket, kissed him full on the mouth. The kiss lingered long enough to take his breath away but short enough to make his loins ache afterward. She smiled wickedly then turned her head back to the singer, leaving Jared dazed but pleased.

In one swift movement, she had taken away all his polished reserve and issued an open invitation. He’d been waiting for this. Hell, plotting for it. She knew his reputation, and most of it had been earned, she would soon find out.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The short ride to the Astor Hotel didn’t allow time to start something he couldn’t finish, Jared decided. Grace chatted gaily—from the effects of the liquor and the lack of food, he suspected—but she seemed sober, just less reserved.

He wanted her. He wanted her so much he could feel his arousal against his clothing, but to take her and then leave her... He should leave her untouched for the right man. But could he deny himself? He was, after all, only human, and though her signals were mixed, at times she seemed willing, eager even, as if she were discovering her femininity, her power over him.

She might be innocent, but she wasn’t a child. They were both adults and responsible for their own actions, but Jared found rational thought seemed to vanish whenever he was with Grace.

“Jared?” she asked softly. He turned his face toward her. She raised her brows. “A penny for your thoughts.”

Levering his elbows on his knees, he leaned forward. “What do you want, Grace? From me? Do you know?”

Grace blinked owlishly, considering his question. “Why, I want this night to go on forever. I want to have a good time, Jared.”

He thought about asking her to explain but decided not to push his luck. He moved toward her slowly and deliberately, raising her chin with his knuckle. “I like that answer,” he whispered into her ear. He brushed his lips lightly over hers. “Come, we’ve arrived.”

****

Grace’s eyes feasted on the splendid sights of the ballroom. The gay crowd at the Astor Hotel filled the smoky nightclub. Lively music had the full rich sounds of a whole orchestra. The room blazed and glittered with hundreds of tiny lights, candles, and the reflection of women’s jewels. Grace breathed in the potent mixture of flowers and perfume. The entire room shimmered with the color and movement of so many splendidly dressed people and the gaiety of a crowd that was rewriting old rules.

She suddenly felt young and pretty and filled with energy. Responsibilities had robbed her of the chance to be young. At twenty-eight, she thought youth had forever passed her by, but tonight seemed magical, a night in which she felt free and happy. She wanted to dance until her legs would no longer hold her up. Tomorrow would come soon enough.

“How wonderful!” Grace sighed happily, while Jared drew her to a halt, searching for his friends.

She felt his gaze on her and glanced up. He was studying her with a bemused look on his face. “If you say so.”

“You’re jaded.”

“Possibly,” he replied, raising one hand in a greeting to a group across the room.

Will Talbot hailed Jared and Grace from a round table on the edge of the dance floor. As they moved through the crowd, Grace noticed women looking greedily at Jared while men eyed him with a certain degree of vigilance. His commanding height and presence alone did that. He was undeniably virile, dangerously masculine, with the unflinching sensitivity of a big cat.

She could feel a ripple surge through the crowd as they approached the table where four couples were chatting and drinking. Several silver flasks were in plain view on the table. One flask had tipped over, spilling an amber liquid on the white linen.

Flipping her blonde hair behind her ear, an extraordinarily beautiful woman sidled up to Jared and laced her arms around his neck. “Shame on you, Jared,” she cooed, “for not calling when you got back to town. You know how I miss you.”

Jared smiled down at the woman affectionately, returning her embrace. “Agnes, I’ve never known you to suffer from a lack of male attention.”

Giggling, she released him and turned to face Grace. Holding a bejeweled hand out, she introduced herself, “Hello, I’m Agnes Talbot, the
better half
of Mr. and Mrs. Talbot. The half that has manners.” She scowled at her husband. “We must get to be fabulous friends and share sordid stories.” She folded her arm through Grace’s and led her away from the table, casting a mischievous smile over her shoulder.

“Jared is such a beast, dear,” Agnes complained as she applied black kohl to her eyelids in the gilt-framed mirror of the powder room. Gaslight sconces lit the feminine room softly as the two women regarded their reflections.

“Don’t get too attached,” Agnes continued. “He’s wonderful company. Sinfully rich. But I find it necessary to warn any unsuspecting females of his devious ways. And that reputation of his! Some say it goes beyond cold-blooded.” She leaned toward the mirror, checking her appearance, and then reached into her clutch purse. “Most people are actually afraid of him, and for good reason, or so Will tells me. Absolutely cutthroat in business. And rather lethal in a confrontation. Will has seen him in action.”