Jonathan stood in the doorway with a stunned expression and no indication he intended to move. Would he let her in? What would she do if he refused? It had been difficult to escape and returning home now brought an acute ache to her chest. Had the downstairs maid not sympathized with her plight with her uncle, she never would have sneaked from the house unnoticed, nor would she be able to get back in. “May I come in?” Her voice came out hesitant, weak. She hated the apprehension she heard in the tone. Jonathan stepped aside. As she followed him through the club, her wide eyes drank in the sight of the forbidden gentlemen’s retreat. The décor was dark, but inviting and very masculine. The smell of stale alcohol and cigars reminded her of her father. She could imagine this being a place he would have frequented. After Jonathan led her into an office, he turned to face her. His expression remained unreadable, which only increased her discomfort. Keeping her elbows locked into place, she resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself.
