Free The House of Dreams by Kate Lord Brown Page B

do.” Raymond took her hand in his, kissed the palm, his gaze not leaving her. He laced their fingers together, and they danced on, cheek to cheek. She felt alive with him, her body coursing with desire. “Will you forget me? Will you forget what we have?”
    â€œNever. How could I?”
    â€œStay with me tonight.” His lips brushed her ear, but Mary Jayne didn’t answer. She was looking toward the bar, where the waiter was handing Varian his filled hip flask.
    â€œGood heavens, what’s he doing slumming it down here?”
    Raymond frowned. “Probably looking for a whore.”
    â€œDon’t be so beastly.” Mary Jayne sauntered over to Varian.
    â€œMary Jayne?” he said in surprise. “What are you doing here? It’s not safe.…”
    â€œShe is safe with me,” Raymond said, slinging his arm over her shoulder.
    â€œGood evening, Couraud,” Varian said. The silence strained between them like an overtightened violin string.
    â€œDarling, would you get me a glass of wine?” Mary Jayne said finally to Raymond.
    â€œSure, bébé .” His eyes narrowed. “Dance with my girl, Monsieur Fry, feel free. I will look after your little bag.” He gestured toward the dance floor and took Varian’s valise and hat, tilting the homburg onto his own head. Varian clenched his jaw.
    â€œDon’t,” Mary Jayne whispered, pulling him toward the dancers.
    â€œWhy do you let him talk to you like that, like he owns you?”
    â€œNo one owns me.”
    â€œBet that’s the last I’ll see of my case,” Varian said, taking her in his arms. They moved easily to the music, his hand resting lightly on her waist.
    â€œOh, stop it.” Mary Jayne sighed. She was pleased to see him. At least with Varian she was on home ground. She knew him, knew his type, there was no need for explanation. In spite of their differences, they were both Americans abroad, and his directness was a relief. There are cat and dog people, she thought, glancing over Varian’s shoulder to watch that Raymond still had the suitcase. Raymond is a cat, and Varian is a dog, definitely. Confident, direct … She watched Raymond chatting to a pretty young brunette at the bar. Loyal.
    â€œWhat are you doing in the Vieux-Port?” she said.
    â€œJust felt like a stroll before my train to Tarascon.”
    â€œNonsense. I know you boys are up to something. You think you’re all being so cloak-and-dagger, and trying to keep Miriam and me out of it, but we could be useful, Varian. I mean with the clandestine work, not just the ordinary relief cases.”
    Varian glanced around him to see if anyone was listening. “Keep your voice down. You and Miriam are doing excellent work, but there are some things that are just too dangerous—”
    â€œFor a woman? What about Vernet? Wasn’t that dangerous?”
    â€œMary Jayne, I’m grateful for all you are doing for the ARC.”
    â€œBut?”
    â€œBut I can’t in good conscience involve you with some of the more delicate work while you are … while you’re…”
    Mary Jayne realized he was talking about Raymond. “While I’m sleeping with Killer?” She wanted to shock Varian, provoke him. She saw a slight tremor pass over his face, but he didn’t rise to the bait.
    â€œWhat do you see in him?”
    â€œSomething that everyone else doesn’t.”
    â€œHe’s a hoodlum, Mary Jayne, a petty crook, and God knows I bet he got his nickname for killing more than the English language.”
    â€œIt’s just a joke that Miriam and I came up with. His accent’s appalling.”
    â€œYou could do—”
    â€œI could do better? You really are trotting out all the bourgeois clichés tonight, aren’t you, Varian?” She tossed her blond hair back and looked him straight in the eye. “You want me to be with