Page 39 of One Night with a Prince
When she moved toward the door, Gavin slipped his arm about her waist, and growled, “Oh, no, you don’t, lass.”
“What?” she said in feigned innocence.
“No need to let her in.” Then Rosa might believe that her mistress wanted an excuse for ending the evening. “Tell her to go away.”
“I will.” She strained against him. “As soon as you let go of me, blast it.”
“Get rid of her first,” he commanded.
“Why should I?” Her uncertainty showed that she fought her own desires. He made her choice easy. “Because the game isn’t over, as you well know.” The woman had an inherent sense of right, thank God. “You agreed to the gameand the stakes. It would be dishonorable to renege simply because you’re losing.”
“What if I concede?”
“Then you’ll have to take off your chemise and walk out naked to meet Rosa. Are you ready to do that? When you can still win?”
She sighed. And he knew he had her.
“My lady?” Rosa demanded, shaking the doorknob until the door rattled.
“I’m fine, Rosa!” Christabel called out. “Mr. Byrne and I are playing cards. I don’t know how late we’ll be, so go on to bed, if you please.”
“Very good, my lady,” Rosa answered.
Gavin released a tense breath. For a moment there, he’d thought—
“Let go of me,” Christabel demanded. “As you said, the game isn’t over.”
He released her at once. They had plenty of time yet. And he’d use every minute to beat down her defenses. “You still owe me a gownand a corset.”
“Fine.” She shucked off her gown, but was forced to let him untie her laces. He took his time, making sure she felt every brush of his fingers against her back.
After she shimmied out of the corset and turned to face him, he was pleased to find her blushing. “Here,”
she said with a gesture of defiance as she thrust the pile of fabric at him. “I wish you good use of it.”
He stared down at her vile black gown, then made a quick decision. Walking over to the fireplace, he tossed her gown into it, where it promptly burst into a most satisfying blaze.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
“Are you insane?” she protested.
She dashed across the room to rescue it, but he stayed her with one hand. “It’s mine now, remember? And I pray never to have to see that ugly thing again. Come to think of it—” He tossed her corset into the fire, too.
“That was a perfectly good corset, I’ll have you know!”
“Which you don’t need tonight.” He faced her, then froze.
The leaping fire, fueled by her clothing, illuminated her chemise so thoroughly that her nipples—her dusky, plump nipples—showed through the thin cotton. Not to mention that the fabric clung to her, tracing the shape of her heavy breasts, hinting at the slight fullness of her belly…barely veiling the triangle of raven hair between her thighs. “In fact, there’s little that you do need, lass,” he said in a guttural voice. She followed his gaze, her eyes going round when she saw what he’d seen. With a muttered curse, she turned on her heel and hurried back to the table, giving him only a flash of the pale buttocks outlined by her chemise before she took her seat. But that flash was enough to spur him on. He walked back to the table as she tapped her fingers impatiently.
“Come on, Byrne.” Grim determination now shadowed her features. “It’s your deal. Prepare to be routed.”
Routed? Not bloody likely. He wasn’t leaving tonight without seeing her naked. Without having her. By God, the woman was magnificent, especially with her dander up. Settling back into his chair, he shuffled the cards without taking his eyes off her. What a female! That flowing hair, those gem green eyes…the sweet flesh barely veiled by her thin chemise. It was all he could do not to attack her where she sat.
Steady, man, steady. You’ll get your chance.
Bloody right he would. He handed the cards over for her to cut, and she did so with the fierce concentration of a player bent on winning. With a chuckle, he began to deal. Did she really think she could best him? He lacked only one point to have her where he wanted her. But that one point eluded him. For the first time that evening, she focused her intelligence—which he’d already guessed was substantial—upon playing her cards to advantage. And luck was with her, too. By the end of that hand she’d gained four points, the most she’d gained all night. Smug with her triumph, she settled back in her chair. “The garters and the stockings, Byrne. Hand them over. Or else give me your cravat and any combination of the rest.”
“Or…” He stood and reached for the buttons of his drawers. “Perhaps I’d prefer to leave my stockings on.” He lowered his voice to a teasing whisper, “So my feet don’t get cold.”
Her smile faltered. But then a sudden mutinous light glinted in her eyes. Leaning across the table, she growled, “Go ahead. I dare you.”
