Page 32 of A Rogue's Rules for Seduction
“Divide into teams,” Longbridge instructed, “and we shall begin.”
Those guests who were married formed teams, including Kieran and Celeste. That left the unattached guests to find their own pairings.
Cransley was one of the players, and he started toward Willa. But she walked straight toward Dom.
As soon as she stood in front of him, she said, quick and low, “Both of us play to win. If you and I are opponents, then no one is going to emerge the victor.”
“True,” he allowed.
“If we form a team,” she went on, “we’reunbeatable.”
When he didn’t answer right away, she said, “We can best Kieran.” She glanced toward her brother, who was busy dodging his wife’s attempts to swat him on the arse with her racket. “Andshow the rest of these nobs that we’re no one to be trifled with.”
“Ruthless.” Dom leaned closer, trying not to notice her sweet and spiced fragrance, or how the sunlight was already beginning to dot her skin with golden freckles. “Appealing to my desire to beat the aristos at their own game.”
“Team up with me, and we’llannihilateeveryone.” Her gaze met his, and determination glowed in the depths of her eyes. “Are you ready to give the others a demonstration of your superiority?”
He gave her a small but vicious smile. “Let’s make ’em cry.”
If Willa wanted to win, she’d no better teammate than Dom.
She watched him as he and the other men tugged off their jackets in preparation for the game. The number of times she’d seen Dom in his shirtsleeveswas minimal, and as he removed his beautifully tailored coat, her breath caught at the sight of his wide shoulders straining against the fabric of his shirt. He was big all over, with appropriately scaled musculature, including massive thighs that strained the buckskin of his breeches so deliciously. Everything about Dom seemed designed to intimidate, which had thrilled her from the first time she’d seen him.
And yet the more she was coming to know him, the more she understood he was far more complex than anyone—including herself—had ever given him credit for.
As he headed back to her, his movements and gaze purposeful and determined, the racket tiny in his enormous fist, she vowed she would do better.
But first, they had a game to win.
He was given a shuttlecock from a servant, and bounced it on his racket with each long stride in her direction.
“You wield that racket like a weapon,” she noted when he came to stand nearby.
“Everything’s a weapon in the right hands.”
“Are your hands the right hands?” She arched a brow.
“Depends on what they’re touching.” His eyes were hot, turning her whole body feverish and aware, and robbing her of the ability to form a witty reply.
Perhaps this wasn’t as well-thought-out a strategy as she’d initially believed.
“We’re relying on the honor system to keep track of the number of volleys,” Mr. Longbridge announced. He stood with Lady Shipton, so clearly, they were a team.
“That should be a problem for you, Key,” Finn yelled from the sidelines.
“There are ladies present,” Kieran shouted back, “so I can’t give you my full array of vulgar hand gestures. Use your imagination to pick the rudest one. That’s the one I’m sending your way.”
“Let me assist you, dearest brother,” Willa said. “I think he meansthis.” She jabbed two fingers into the air.
Dom choked out a laugh.
“On my count,” Mr. Longbridge went on, “we’ll begin. Three, two—”
Anticipation built, and Willa readied herself, bouncing from foot to foot in preparation. Her heart pounded in expectation of the game to come.
“One,” said Mr. Longbridge. “Begin.”
A cheer went up from the spectators, and Lady Shipton gave an excited shriek, but Willa’s focus honed in on Dom. He lightly lobbed the shuttlecock toward her. She swung her racket, making contact with the projectile but being careful not to hit it too hard to keep it from soaring over his head. A little rush of pleasure burst in her when his racket connected with the shuttlecock, and then she did the same when it arced toward her.
