Page 9 of Devil's Marker

“Let me guess,” Garland said. “My husband has made territorial noises about club women. Told you not to be too friendly with the wives?”

Garland already knew Win was exceptionally attractive, but his little-boy grin almost made her forget she had a soul mate just across the courtyard.

With a definitely sheepish look, Win said, “In his defense, I might have mentioned something about a sordid history with married women.”

She blinked rapidly a few times to disguise her surprise and then laughed out loud. “You devil, you. Well, now I don’t know whether to continue showing you around or make you sit facing the corner.”

He barked out a laugh that turned into a chuckle as he first looked around to see who was watching and then leaned in closer. “I like a woman who takes charge. If you ever…”

“Stop right there, Prospect.” Garland used the schoolteacher tone that every woman can call on when needed.

Win cocked his head. “What do you take me for? I wouldn’t proposition the president’s old lady.” Then he smiled and leaned a few centimeters closer. “At least not when I just got here. I was going to say that I’m open to being introduced to single women like yourself.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment. I’m not a dating service, but for information’s sake, like me how?”

Piercing her with navy blue eyes that seemed to come with a more intense twinkle, he said, “Blonde. Beautiful. Well bred. Knows her mind.”

“A laundry list of attributes. Well, three of those are fairly easy in Texas. The one about breeding is too vulgar for me to address on any level.”

Win chuckled. “Don’t turn me in. Please.”

“Turn you in to the law?”

“Well, yeah, since your man is the law around here.”

She smiled in acknowledgement of Brant’s authority. “I won’t. But I’m not introducing you to any nice young ladies either. You’re far too dangerous.” Her words were at odds with her tone, which was more conspiracy than reprimand.

“I’m on my own then?” he teased.

“Immediately and irrevocably.”

Brash walked up. “The first lady is needed in the kitchen.”

She glanced at Win quickly, but said nothing more before gliding away toward whatever minor crisis needed management feminine-style.

“You need a beer?” Brash said.

Win shook his head. “I’m in line for food.”

“I don’t see a line.”

“’Cause I’m first in it. The smell of that meat cookin’ is drivin’ me crazy.”

Brash chuckled. “Yeah. If we ever decided to open the gates to the public, we’d get people comin’ all the way from New Braunfels for a taste. Guess you missed it in California.”

“That’s a fact.”

“Well, I hate to tell you this, but you’re gonna have to give up your place in ‘line’, Prospect.” Win knew better than to show disappointment. So he waited stoically for Brash to give him his assignment. “Go give that kid workin’ the gate a piss break. Fifteen minutes. I’ll make sure there’s plenty of food for you.”

Win broke eye contact with Brash long enough to glance at the brunette who was walking behind Brash and trying to get Win’s attention with a cheap-sunglasses kind of sashay and a smile full of promises. “On my way.”

He turned and started walking toward the gate, but tossed the girl an encouraging grin over his shoulder.

Maintaining a ‘Midas touch’ with investing was one part intuition, one part luck, one part fear, and seven parts hard work. He’d been at it for long hours all week, partly because he wanted to make a good impression and partly because he liked investing. It was a groove that hit every aspect of his personality and natural talent.

Other than eating, sleeping, and hitting the gym on the club premises, he’d done nothing but stare at the computer and move the mouse around. Consequently his dick was ripe for the right kind of attention.

He woke up alone, pleased that the coed had taken him seriously about letting herself out. Win liked the kind of female companionship that lasted for half an hour. For the right girl, he might stretch that guideline to two hours, but that was on the occasional side of occurrence.

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