Page 20 of To Heist and to Hold
She hastily clamped a hand to her lips to hold her squeak of alarm at bay.Looking wildly about, she made for the first door she could see, one heavier and more ornate than the others.Please, she begged silently as her hand gripped the handle,please let this door be unlocked.She fully expected her plea to be ignored.Hadn’t every other door she’d tried been locked?To her complete and utter surprise, however, the handle turned easily in her hand.Without a second thought she slipped through…
… And was dealt a shock—or, rather, another shock—asshe entered a large, opulent room with a wall made entirely of glass.Glass that looked over the casino floor.
But she did not have time to fully take stock of this jarring fact before, to her horror, the men’s voices came closer, stopping right outside the door.Acting on instinct alone, Heloise leaped forward, toward the first item that could be used to hide her.Which happened to be a very large, very plush, very sensual-looking sofa.She had no sooner rearranged her skirts behind the thing than the door swung open and two sets of heavy footsteps entered.
“I don’t give a good damn what Teagan wants,” a gruff voice—one Heloise recognized as belonging to Mr.Parsons—said.“The private women’s games should be opened to a larger pool of patrons.Do we really want only noblewomen in the upper echelons of society to be able to partake of Dionysus without the benefit of the masquerades?The rest of us agree; why does he have to be the one stubborn arse?”
Heloise frowned.Private women’s games?She had been under the assumption that women were allowed into Dionysus only during the quarterly masquerades.She set her teeth tight.Those same masquerades that Julia had been forced to attend.
But Mr.Parsons was referring to something quite different, something separate from those nights of bacchanalian pleasure when the sexes mingled under a cloak of anonymity.
“You know Teagan,” a second man grumbled.From his peculiar raspy voice, she immediately recognized him as Mr.Copper, the floor manager who had admitted them that first day.A nearby chair creaked as he sank down into it.“Though he grew up in the gutters alongside the likes of us, he wants to distance himself from it.And that means mingling with the nobility as much as he can.”
Parsons grunted.Heloise, peering under the sofa, watched as his large black boots crossed the room to the wall of glass.Even though she could not see above his knees, she could sense the tension in him as he stared down into the casino.“The damn fool.As if the nobility is good to us for anything but parting them from their fortunes at our tables.”
Mr.Copper gave a rough laugh.“Something you’re extremely talented at.”
“This ugly face is good for something.But I don’t give a damn what Teagan says.Gather the requests for admittance to the private games and bring them to me later today.”
“Aye.”The man rose, heaving a sigh as he did so.“But Teagan ain’t going to like it.”
“I don’t give a damn what Teagan likes,” Parsons growled.“It’s three against one; I refuse to allow him to hold us all hostage to his whims a moment longer.You’re the manager; make it happen.”
Chuckling darkly, Mr.Copper moved for the door, letting himself out into the hall, closing it with perhaps more force than necessary.Leaving her alone with Mr.Parsons.
Which was entirely too unnerving.The quiet of the place was unforgiving, betraying the slightest sound.She focused on controlling her breathing lest it expose her presence.Even so, it sounded ragged and overloud to her ears, bouncing off the sofa on one side and the wall on the other in a horrible, unending echo.Minutes—or perhaps hours; she had no clue how much time passed, tense as she was—ticked by, she certain that at any moment Mr.Parsons would realize he was not alone.
Yet the man continued to stand eerily still at the large window, gazing down at who knew what.Just when she thought her rapidly cramping legs would give out, the man slammed his fist into his palm, the sickening sound of flesh hittingflesh mingling with the low, rough curse that exploded from his lips, causing her to jump and nearly topple over.
“Fucking bastard,” he snarled.Then, without another word, he stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him.
Heloise dug her fingers into the rug beneath her as she listened to the sounds of his retreat, forcing her disordered thoughts into place as best she could.There were two very important things she had to do.One, she had to escape from this place before she was found out; there was no way her luck could hold if someone else were to enter this room.And as it appeared for all intents and purposes to be the owners’ suite, a place where they could watch over their domain like angry gods from on high, that seemed very likely.
And two, she thought with determination, rising from her place behind the sofa, ignoring the screaming muscles in her thighs as she made her hasty way from the room, she had to secure a place for Sylvia at Dionysus’s private women’s games.For if there was anyone who had the clout to gain admittance, it would be the viscountess.
Damn it all to hell, what the devil was she still doing here?
Ethan, who had hidden away in his office for much longer than he was willing to admit to avoid Mrs.Marlow and her baffling array of fluctuating personalities, had finally dragged himself back down to the casino floor to confer with Isaac about a minor detail of the upcoming masquerade when, out of the corner of his eye, he spied her.Not that she should have garnered his attention.She was, as usual, dressed in staid clothes, with not a single bow or bit of lace or lowered bodice in sight.
And yet…
He scowled.And yet she nevertheless drew his eye like nothing else ever had.And, blast it, she was headed his way.
Without even the morsel of a thought behind the action, he quickly ducked behind a nearby velvet curtain, heart pounding heavily in his chest.Isaac, who had been standing next to him, was silent for a charged moment before he said in a voice much louder than it had any right to be, “Ethan, what in hell are you doing?”
“Shut your blasted mouth,” he hissed desperately, “and pretend you didn’t see me.”
“Pretend I didn’t…?”Isaac muttered, the words trailing off—which Ethan was soon to learn was due to Mrs.Marlow’s arrival on the scene.
“Mr.Sinclaire,” she said, and Ethan, behind his curtain, dug his fists into his thighs to try to curb the electric jolt that ran through his body at the sound of her voice.“How nice to see you again.”
Isaac did not respond, and Ethan held his breath, hoping that the damned fool wouldn’t say something to give him away.Blessedly, his brother was not stupid and quickly rallied to become his typical cheerful self.
“The feeling is mutual,” he replied, the smile evident in his voice.“And how is Mrs.Finch?Looking forward to the event, I hope.”
“She is at that.I have never seen her so focused on her craft.It’s quite thrilling.”
“Splendid.I cannot wait to see her fight.Teagan has filled my head with how inspiring the sight is, and I’m eager to witness it for myself.”
