Lady Allerton's Wager
From Chapter
1
Beth was standing beside the window. She had taken
the dice from its box on the table and was tossing it lightly in one hand.
She did not look up when Marcus came in and for a moment he thought he
sensed something tense and wary in her stance, though the impression was
fleeting.
He took a
step forward. “Would you care to indulge in a
game of chance, sweetheart?” He asked.
She
looked at him then, a stare as straight and protracted as
the one she had first given him in the ballroom.
Marcus was amused. He knew of few men and even
fewer women who were so direct. Her eyes were a
shadowed silver behind the mask, her gaze as deliberate
and fearless as a cat.
“If
you are sure that you wish to play, my lord.”
They were
talking in double entendres now and Marcus
appreciated her quick wit. It made the pursuit even
more enjoyable. He kept his eyes on her face and
smiled slowly. “I'm sure. Which game do
you prefer?”
The lady
smiled too, the dimple quivering again at the corner of
her deliciously curved mouth. Marcus suddenly
wished he could cut to the chase and simply kiss her.
It was a high-risk strategy and might backfire, but it
was very tempting. He took a step closer. She
took one back.
“Hazard
might be appropriate,” she said coolly, tossing the
dice from one hand to the other. “One throw of
the dice. The winner takes all.”
Marcus
hesitated. It was clear from her words that she
would be his prize if he won and he considered it very
sporting of her to offer her services for free. The
reckoning would come later, of course, if they suited
each other; the villa, the carriage, the jewels...
But if
she won the wager...
“I
like your terms but first I need to know what you want
from me if I lose,” he drawled. “I do not
have a fortune to offer. What would you settle for,
sweetheart?”
He waited
confidently for her to name her price. A necklace
of diamonds, perhaps, to outclass the exquisite but
tasteful grey pearls already around her neck.
She moved
closer until he could smell her perfume. It was a
subtle mix of jasmine and rose petals, warm as the sun on
the skin, and it sent his senses into even more of a spin.
Damn it, whatever the price, it had to be worth it.
“I don't want a fortune,”
she said sweetly, “just a small part of your
patrimony. I want Fairhaven Island.”
From Chapter Nine
"You have been very quiet
tonight, my dear," Marcus observed as he and Beth
sat over the chessboard the following evening. "Are
you too tired to play? Do you wish to go to bed?"
Beth looked up, met his eyes and
smiled demurely. "No, I am not tired. Perhaps I do
not have the right sort of calculating mind for chess."
"But you always respond to a
challenge," Marcus murmured. "How if we were to
make the stakes higher? If you lose a pawn..." He
paused, his gaze considering her, "then you also
lose a garment?"
Beth almost choked on her tea.
"Marcus! No, really! Surely you are in jest?"
"What, too afraid to take the
challenge?" Marcus laughed, leaning back in his
chair. "That is not like you, my love. And this way
the game is so much more enjoyable."
Beth bit her lip. She admitted to
herself that the challenge was well nigh irresistible and
that she might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb...
It was several minutes before she
lost her first pawn. she paused, considering, and then
removed her spencer and folded it neatly over the arm of
the chair. The room was warm and from that point of view
she scarcely noticed the loss and a quick mental
inventory of her remaining clothes reassured her that
there were plenty left. Even so, there were seven pawns
left on the board...
