“I told you the table would hold,” Nadine said.
“Yes, you did,” he said.
They had climbed down to the floor and gotten dressed.
“I need a bath,” she said.
“So do I.”
“Want to come home with me for it?” she asked.
“I do,” he said, “but I better go back to my hotel, or neither of us will actually take a bath. Besides, I have some things to do in the morning.”
She put her hand on his arm.
“I can’t believe we’ve just met today.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her. “And we’ll meet again tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“I’ll come by late in the afternoon,” he said. “I have to buy some clothes for your party.”
“I could help you!” she offered.
“You have a business to run,” he said. “I’ll bring them with me and you can tell me what you think.”
“What if Emory’s nephews come back?”
“Are they really his nephews?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Do you know how to use a gun?”
“Yes.”
He picked up the New Line and held it out to her.
“But . . . you can’t be without a gun. You said so yourself.”
“I have another at my hotel.”
She smiled. “The big one?”
“That’s right.”
“What about between here and there?”
“I should be able to make it back to my hotel,” he said. “Tomorrow I’ll get you another gun, so I can take that one back. I can’t very well walk the streets of the city wearing a holstered gun around my waist. Perhaps I’ll buy a shoulder holster.”
She looked down at the gun in her hand.
“Will you be able to use it?” he asked. “Shooting a man is, well—”
“—preferable to being raped,” she finished for him. “Don’t worry, I’ll use it.”
“Then I’ll say goodnight.”
“Thank you for helping me,” she said. “Both this afternoon, and tonight. You’re like my own personal knight in shining armor.”
“Helping you test this table?” he asked.
She grinned and said, “Yes, that, too.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Let’s walk out together,” she said. “You can do me one last favor and wave down a cab.”
“One last task, my lady,” he said, with a bow. “It would be an honor.”
~*~
In front of the gallery he put her into a cab and gave the driver the address, all the while watching the street. And as the cab pulled away, he checked to see if she was followed. He wondered if there would be someone watching her home? He should have asked her if Emory Bates knew where she lived. Well, she was armed . . .
. . . and he wasn’t.
He felt naked without a gun, but it was only a three-block walk to the hotel. Surely, on the deserted, dark streets of Manhattan he’d be able to make it there without somebody trying to kill him.
He hoped.