After putting him on the gunboat, she’d ridden to her next assignment certain she’d never see him again, but he’d stayed in the back of her mind for weeks after. How had he fared, she’d wondered. Had he gone back to New Orleans, or had he been patched up and sent back into the field to continue his espionage work for the Bureau of Military Information, whose purpose had been the collection of intelligence on the Confederacy. As happens with all memories her recollection of their encounter had faded over time, and she’d had no further thoughts of him until now.
Was he, like her, still gathering information for the government, or had he left that part of his life behind after Lee’s surrender. Even though she’d had to rescue him from Crete’s clutches, she knew better than to sell him short—Le Veq had to have been a skilled agent to be employed by BMI. If he was still an active agent, could she call on him for help in a pinch? And if he somehow uncovered her true reason for being in New Orleans, then what?
Zahra pondered Le Veq for a few moments longer then came to a decision. If Sophie recommended him there was really no reason not to hire his staff. After all, it would only be for a week or so. She’d have her own chef eventually. Le Veq’s presence in the city was a wrinkle she hadn’t allowed for however, especially when a part of her kept recalling the vivid power in his dark eyes.
The next morning she dressed in a fashionable indigo gown, put on a matching domino, and had Alfred drive her over to the Hotel Christophe. Better to beard the dragon in his den.
Archer was in the hotel kitchen trying to convince his temperamental chef, Aristide O’Neil, not to quit over the questionable quality of the vegetables delivered this morning, when André came rushing in. “You’re not going to believe who’s sitting in your office waiting your attendance.”
“Governor Warmoth?” he asked dryly.
“No. Madame Domino.”
Crystal and china hit the floor; pans were dropped, and every head in the kitchen snapped up.
“She says she has a business proposition for you.”
Ignoring the eager curiosity on the faces of the kitchen staff, Archer excused himself and headed to his office.
She was standing by the window, looking down onto the busy street when he entered. The indigo silk gown, with its pleated hem and soft bustle, was highly fashionable. When she turned slowly and faced him, the dark eyes within the gilded indigo mask held his for such a long, time-suspended moment that his groin tightened in response.
“Monsieur Le Veq?”
She had a voice like black velvet.
“Yes.”
“Thank you for meeting with me. I’m called Domino.”
While the mask hid the upper portions of her warm brown face, he noted that the dark eyes were intelligent, the jaw nicely formed, and the mouth lush as any Archer had ever seen.
She walked to him, silk rustling sensually, and gracefully extended her hand gloved in black netting.
“Enchanté,” he said, bowing gallantly over her hand and placing his lips lightly against it. He politely released her hand, then gestured to the leather chairs by his desk. “A seat?”
“Thank you.”
Once again the silk whispered as she swept the gown aside so she could sit.
“May I offer you refreshment? Tea, coffee?”
“Tea would be fine.”
“Then tea it shall be.” He walked to the door intending to call for André, but when he opened it, the apparently eavesdropping aide all but fell inside the room.
André straightened himself hastily.
Archer raised an eyebrow, then asked, “Can you bring the lady some tea? Café for me.”
“Certainly,” André responded while taking peeks at the notorious visitor. “I’ll return shortly.”
He left, and Archer closed the door.
Domino had a small smile on her beautifully masked face. “How long has he worked for you?”
“On and off for almost a decade. When he’s not eavesdropping, he’s rather efficient.”
Archer found no fault with André’s curiosity. Were the shoe on the other foot, Archer would have been the one falling into the room. He wondered if she affected all men this way, then decided the answer was undoubtedly yes. The intrigue she exuded was hard to ignore. “André mentioned a business proposition.”
“Yes. I’m in need of a caterer for the house’s opening night. I’m told that your staff is one of the best in the city.”
“We are indeed. Tell me what you have in mind.”
While she talked, Archer listened, took notes, and discreetly studied the mesmerizing woman on the other side of the desk. She had a mouth as sensual as a French courtesan. The front of the gown buttoned high on her neck, but a diamond-shaped cut in the bodice offered the male eye a teasing view of the swells of her breasts, accented by a short ruffle of black lace. Her hair was covered by an elaborately rendered head wrap, the color of which matched her gown.
“So, do you think you can accommodate me?”
Archer looked up from his notes. The question had such a tantalizing undertone that it made him speculate on whether the double entendre had been intentional. Holding her eyes, he responded, “Accommodating a beautiful woman is one of my specialties.”
The smile she gave him in response was slow and secretive.
Conscious of the lust humming in his blood, Archer heard the doorknob turn, and he watched André enter the room carrying a tray. On it sat a small teapot, cups, and a small cup of café. André set everything upon the edge of Archer’s desk, nodded at Domino, and withdrew soundlessly.
“Shall I pour?” Archer asked.
“Please,” she replied.
Zahra took her now filled cup, and in the moments of silence that followed admitted that although he was as handsome as she’d remembered, she’d not been truly prepared to confront him in the flesh. His skin was the color of African gold and he had entered the room with knowing eyes and kisses for the back of her hand. The touch of his lips, though fleeting, had sent warms tendrils of response up her arm, and his pointed gaze had warmed the rest of her. He exuded the aura of a man who enjoyed women and Zahra sensed that very few told him no. Over her raised cup she discreetly studied his attire. The first time they’d met his clothing had been as filthy as Crete’s barn, but today Le Veq’s well-formed frame was set off by a black frock coat, white shirt and red paisley vest. Like most men of the day, he wore brown trousers and buttoned his coat only at the top to better display the vest and the expensive looking gold pocket watch chained to it.
“Much is being said about your arrival in the city,” he said to her after a few moments.
“Hopefully the talk is positive,” she responded.
“Very much so.”
“Then that pleases me.”
What else pleases you? Archer wanted to ask, running appreciative eyes over her loveliness. “Where’s home?”
“Here and there,” Zahra replied with intentional vagueness. He was making no attempts to hide his interest and the secret call in his gaze was sinuously worming its way through the defenses she’d set around herself.
“A lady of mystery.”
She sipped. “Not really. Most men seem more interested in my present than in my past.”
“I’m not most men.”
Her eyes raised to his. “No?”
“No. You will find that I am most distinctive.”
Try though she might Zahra could not ignore his effect on her senses. He made her so warm she wanted to pick up some of the papers on his desk and fan herself. “How so?”
“In how I please a woman.”
His voice sent another ripple through her, and her chin rose in response as if the gesture might somehow counteract the spell being woven around her. She tossed back amusedly, “I’d heard that you Black Frenchmen hold a high opinion of yourselves.”
“Only because it is well earned.”
“Or because you are legends in your own minds.”
Archer
smiled. “You are a very intriguing woman.”
“In my profession, that is how it should be, non?”
“And generally, how much will such intrigue cost a man?”
Zahra paused for a moment to weigh him and her answer before looking directly into his glittering eyes to reply, “The common man need not ask because I am unavailable to him, but for a man who matches me in strength and purpose—there is no cost.”
The black velvet voice coupled with her sultry eyes rendered Archer instantaneously hard. “Then I will make it my business to meet the test.”
“Is that a gauntlet I hear?”
“It is.”
“And your mistress?” she asked easily. “What will she say? A man as distinctive as you claim to be, surely has one.”
Archer was struck speechless for a moment, then said with a cool voice, “I wouldn’t think that a man’s mistress would be a barrier for a woman like you.”
She gave him a knowing smile and said pleasantly, “For all your legendary expertise, Mr. Le Veq, you know nothing about a woman like me, so, shall we return to the business at hand?”
Archer got the distinct impression that he’d offended her. An offended whore?
They spent a few more minutes firming up the details of her dinner and the costs. When the negotiations were completed, he said to her, “I’ll have André draw up a contract and have it ready for your review tomorrow morning if that’s agreeable?”
“It is.” Zahra wondered what it was about this man that made her so aware of him. Even though he was seated on the other side of the desk she could feel his heat, making it difficult for her to hold his assessing gaze for longer than a few seconds. Deciding that a retreat might be in her best interest, she gathered herself, looked away from what she swore was amusement in his eyes, and slowly stood. “I should be getting back. Thank you for the tea and for your time, Mr. Le Veq. I’m looking forward to working with you.”
“I am as well.” And because Archer was not ready to relinquish her just yet, asked, “May I walk you out?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. I remember the way.” With a brief parting smile and the rustling of silk she was gone.
Archer rose and stepped to the window of this office that looked down onto the busy street. It didn’t take long for her to appear below. With appreciative eyes, he watched her walk the short distance to the ruby red carriage. It was his first look at the storied conveyance and he noted that it sparkled like a jewel in the sun, but it was the lush-mouthed Domino who filled his mind. Who was she really? He’d encountered very few women with the power to instantaneously ensnare him the way she had. Just thinking about her now tightened his groin. The coach’s well-dressed driver, a man the size of Goliath, held open the door. Once she entered, the giant took his seat behind the reins and they drove away. Archer went back to his desk chair and for a moment sat there musing on the woman in the mask and his desire to see her again as soon as it could be arranged.
On the ride back to the house with Alfred, Zahra reviewed the encounter and wondered if marching into the dragon’s den had been such a good idea after all. In reality she could have sent Alfred or one of the other staff members to the hotel to handle the hiring and maybe not have had to personally encounter Le Veq ever, but she’d admittedly been curious as to whether he really was the man in the barn, and that had been confirmed. On another level the visit had been necessary to prove that her reaction to him that night in Georgia had been a fluke. As if just waiting to bedevil her, the memories of the rescue’s aftermath rose and she relived how Le Veq’s distracting nearness had affected her hold on the canteen. Then came her fumbling attempts to rectify the mess which resulted in her being so unnerved by the warmth of his skin and his unfathomble eyes, she’d gone immediately still. In the silence that followed something passed between them that she’d had no words for then or now; something that had stayed with her for weeks after she’d ridden away and something that had been rekindled this morning when he brushed his lips against the back of her hand.
Shaking off the echoing effects, she turned her mind back to the matter at hand. Other than verifying Le Veq’s identity, this morning’s visit had proven that her reaction to him back in ’63 hadn’t been a fluke. Then as now, she was attracted to the Black Frenchman, but even more worrisome was the knowledge that he was very attracted to Domino as well.
Later, Archer met Lynette for lunch in one of the hotel’s small private dining rooms. It was a standard appointment, but today, Archer couldn’t seem to concentrate on Lynette or her conversation.
“Did you hear me, Archer?”
He shook himself away from the fantasy of removing Domino’s mask, then apologized. “I’m sorry, I didn’t. What did you say?”
“I said, I purchased the tickets for the opera for New Year’s Eve.”
“I can’t go.”
She observed him over her small blue bowl of bouillabaisse. “And the reason?”
“Work. The staff is catering an event that evening.”
“Where?”
“At the former Pierre House.”
“The new brothel?”
He nodded.
“I hear the madame rivals Miss Sophie herself.”
Sophie’s beauty and her well-run, clean house were without parallel. Until now.
Archer shrugged. “It’s hard to tell with the domino she wears, but she is very intriguing.”
Lynette met his eyes and studied them as if looking for something, then sighed, “All right, we’ll attend the opera another night, but for the postponement you owe me one new gown, Archer Le Veq.”
The small pout on her face made him smile. “That is a small price to pay. Thank you for understanding.”
“Just as long as your working for her pertains only to business.” Then she added with mock warning, “I am a descendant of Marie Laveau, you know.”
He did. Leveau was New Orleans’s most famous priestess of vodoun. Personally he put little stock in the cult’s spells or its supposed power over people and nature, but Lynette was a firm believer. She was convinced that her magic was the reason the two of them had been together these past five years. “The last thing I want is one of your spells hanging over my life.”
She smiled prettily and went back to her lunch.
After seeing Lynette off with a passionate kiss, Archer summoned André to his office to inform him of the contract for New Year’s Eve. “Madame Domino has hired us to handle the catering for the opening of her house.”
“Oh, really?” Unlike his earlier appearance at the door, André seemed to have regained his sense of formality.
They then discussed what would be needed, the logistics around deliveries, setup, and the like. “Would you draw up a contract? I’d like to take it to her tomorrow,” Archer stated.
“Of course,” he replied. Then he asked, “Is there anything else?”
“Yes. Find out what you can about her. I’d like to know who I’m really dealing with. I’ll do some inquiring on my own, as well.”
“All right. I’ll get started on the contract.”
“Thank you.”
Chapter 4
That evening, Archer stopped off at his mother’s. Seeing his brothers’ carriages parked on the street outside the gate made him remember this morning’s visitor. As he entered the parlor, he tossed his hat, cane, and coat onto an empty chair and greeted everyone, then announced, “Philippe, I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that I’m catering Madame Domino’s opening affair.”
Every eye in the room swung to his face.
Juliana stared. “Oh, Archer, how could you? The good women of this city are not happy with these new doxies at all.”
Archer took a seat on the edge of her chair and kissed her cheek in greeting before saying, “I’m sure they aren’t, but this is business, Mama. I stand to make a tidy profit.”
Juliana still looked displeased. “Couldn’t you have sent her to someone else?”
 
; He smiled. “No.”
Philippe asked, “Have you met her?”
“Oh, yes.” Then he added, “I believe I offended her, though.”
“Mama, cover your ears,” Drake instructed before asking his brother, “How do you offend a whore?”
Archer shrugged. “That’s what I asked myself. Out of respect for the lovely Juliana I won’t go into detail, but yes, I think I offended her.” Archer was still thrown by that. He inwardly admitted having been caught off guard by her pointed question about Lynette and that he’d replied with the first words that came to mind but how was he supposed to know she had sensibilities; the woman made her living on her back for heaven’s sake.
Beau asked him, “So will you be there opening night?”
“Yes, to make sure everything runs smoothly.”
“What are you going to do about the opera you’re supposed to be taking Lynette to that night?” Drake asked over his wineglass.
“We’ll go some other time. Lynette was very understanding about the whole thing.” He then drawled, “You know, brother, if you had a mistress of your own, you wouldn’t have to be so concerned with mine.”
“Ouch!” Beau winced aloud.
Philippe eyed the simmering Drake. “Are you going to take that sitting down?”
Juliana studied her brood. “If you two are going to fight, please do so outside. If I have to replace even one more piece of china, you’ll be banned from my home permanently.”
Over the years Juliana’s rambunctious boys had cost her much in broken china, vases, furniture, and lamps, but because her sons knew a real threat when she uttered one, the two brothers glowered silently at each other but said no more.
“Did you see to the convent’s leaky roof, Drake?” Juliana asked, hoping to defuse the grumbling by changing the topic of conversation.