Nowhere Near Respectable by Mary Jo Putney Page A

would have won because of his skill. No matter how good a cardplayer is, someone is always better. Or luckier.”
    Beaton smiled crookedly. “You have succeeded in your lesson. I will no longer let myself be guided by those who don’t have my true interests at heart. I assume you’re Damian Mackenzie himself? My thanks for taking the time to haul me out of the hole I’d dug, and beat me soundly about the ears.”
    “Metaphorically speaking. It’s bad business to physically beat guests without a really good reason. Go and enjoy the buffet. It will leave you in a better mood than the gambling.” Mac inclined his head and left. Enormous sums were won and lost at Damian’s, but Mac not would allow underage fools to fall into disaster. At least this lad might have actually learned his lesson.
    He paused by the door of the ballroom to scan the dancing couples. He liked seeing his guests enjoying themselves, and he liked dancing. Perhaps after the unmasking, he’d have a dance or two if all continued smoothly.
    A figure swathed in black paused beside him, also studying the dancers. Mac froze as sensation blazed through him, going right to his viscera. Blooming lilacs and subtle spices and irresistible woman.
    Without conscious thought, he wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her hard against him so her back was pressed into his chest. She was slim and strong as a panther under the concealing folds of fabric. Blood running rampant through his veins, he whispered into her ear, “What mischief brings you here tonight, Lady Kiri?”

Chapter 12
    Kiri stiffened when Mackenzie appeared from nowhere and pulled her against his hard, unyielding body. She felt heat from her shoulder blades to her derriere. She didn’t know if she should break away or lean back into him. Choosing neither, she said with matching softness, “I’m here to return the fifty guineas I owe you, Mr. Mackenzie.”
    “It wasn’t a loan, Lady Kiri,” he said, startled. “I did what any man would. I didn’t expect to be repaid.”
    “Perhaps not. But I do not wish to be in your debt, and fifty guineas is a substantial sum. Or are you too proud to accept money from a woman?”
    “I’m never proud where money is concerned.” He released her, his chuckle a warm breath against her ear. “But you shouldn’t hand over such a sum in public. We can go to my office, where I have a strongbox.”
    A firm hand on her elbow, he guided her across the left-hand gambling room and through a door unobtrusively tucked into the paneling. On the other side was a long corridor lit by small gas sconces. Closing the door reduced the talking and music to a muted roar so they could speak normally.
    “The gas lighting is impressive,” Kiri remarked as she looked down the corridor. “My brother is considering having it installed in Ashton House. I shall encourage him.”
    “The light is stronger and steadier than any candle or lamp. Since Pall Mall was the first street in London to get gas lighting, I arranged to have it installed here at the same time.” Hand still on her arm, he guided her down the corridor, which was just wide enough for two. “Did you come alone?”
    She shook her head. “I have a companion, and we will have highly reliable transportation home when we leave the club.”
    He gave a twisted smile. “Ironic that I expend great effort to make this club safe for all comers, yet I find myself worrying about such a very capable young lady.”
    “There is no need to concern yourself with me,” she said tartly.
    They turned into a left-hand corridor, then again to the right. “You have a maze of passages here,” she said as they walked toward the back of the building.
    He tugged off his mask. “The club was created from three separate buildings. Lots of corridors, not much logic. That door on the right is my office.”
    Instead of entering, he gazed at her intently. Then he raised one hand and pulled off her mask, his hand a feather caress on her