Price of Desire by Goodman Jo

Author:Goodman, Jo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2008-02-25T16:00:00+00:00

She slept alone that night and for a full sennight after that. It occurred to her to return to his room without invitation, but she remained in her own because except for the occasional kiss at oddly chosen moments, Griffin Wright-Jones hardly seemed to know she was still under his roof.

He was a curiosity. Olivia found herself studying him, rather more intrigued that he had set her from him since their night of intimacy than simply relieved by it. In her presence he often seemed mildly distracted so that she was never quite certain he was listening. It emboldened her at times, and she tested him, allowing small pieces of herself to drop like crumbs to see if he would sweep them up. He didn’t. Such things as she told him were never commented upon; indeed, he often chose some other conversational thread to pull and let such bits as she gave him simply lie there.

In spite of Olivia approaching him several times in regard to his requirements, he had never shared them. Relying on trial and error and her own sense of what would be helpful, she became more involved in the nightly activities of the hell. She examined the cards for wear and recommended when decks should be discarded. She collected fallen chips and coins and passed them on to Beetle and Wick, who became her devotees because of it. When she asked Mason if she might propose some changes to the distribution of liquor and wine, he suffered her suggestions without comment, but implemented the whole of it the next evening.

They all came to her after that. It was as flattering as it was unexpected, although the part of her that retained a survivor’s skepticism suspected Griffin’s encouragement, if not outright manipulation of his staff.

While she had no access to the financial ledgers, she never doubted that Griffin was scrupulously fair in his dealings with her. It required little effort on her part to estimate her table’s winnings and calculate her share based on the percentage they’d agreed upon. She was never wrong by more than a few pounds as Griffin’s more detailed calculations proved night after night.

He’d wanted to know how she was able to do it, but she had no explanation for it, nor any explanation for how she kept an account of the cards she’d dealt. Griffin had pointed out, quite correctly, that she could make even more money at faro as a punter rather than a dealer, but she had no interest in gaming as a participant.

It had not escaped her notice that he did not make any wagers in his own establishment and as far as she was able to discover, made none anywhere else. The former, she understood. It was the latter that gave her pause, and when she asked him about it, his answer was a terse, “If I wish to give my money away, I will choose a charity.”

In spite of the late hours she was keeping, she woke most mornings before many of the staff.

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