Page 37 of The Gambler's Prize
“Someone to help with gold prospecting and all that,” I guess.
“But you’re a really lovely guy.” She leans close, eyes warm. “And I’ve never tasted such soft lips before.”
I laugh, mollified. “Well, I guess it comes with not being prospector material.”
She nudges me with her elbow, mischievous. “I bet you didn’t expect to find anyone in Galbrava to object toyourbackground.”
I think about it for a moment. I like to think I’m fairly egalitarian… for an aristocrat, which I’m sure Grimes would point out is a big caveat. But yeah, if I’m honest, it does feel weird to meet someone who isn’t impressed by my family. In fairness, my family name doesn’t help much with prospecting.
“New experiences are good for personal growth,” I say grandly, and she laughs at me.
“So what happened when you got home?” she says. “Grimes seemed pretty pissed at you for kissing me.”
I feel my face flush as I remember the smack of his hand on my ass. Blushing always looks obvious on my pale skin. Maybe she can’t see it in the gloom of dusk.
“Nothing much,” I mutter. “His bark is worse than his bite.”
“That’s good. I was afraid you would get a beating.”
I clear my throat, almost choking. “Nope. Nothing like that. Don’t worry.”
Mercifully, she changes the subject. “So how are you getting on with the foundations for the gym?” she asks.
“Pretty good. Grimes is a machine, though. I can’t keep up with him.”
She looks at me sideways. “I don’t think manual labor is what he really wants from you.”
So much for changing the subject. I’m torn between embarrassment and wanting to pump her for information.
“What do you mean?” I say. “What else could he interested in?”
She laughs. “Don’t play modest. You must see how he looks at you.”
I do. With definite lust. But it never gets any farther. Something is holding him back, and I still have no idea what.
“How well do you and your family know Grimes?” I ask.
“We haven’t known him for very long, but he’s a good man.”
“How do you know?”
She looks back at the house, the glow of soft light in the window. “A few months ago, Beveen got a fever. Things looked bad for a few days. Grimes sat up with her and Mama all night, keeping watch on her breathing and giving her medicine every few hours. He was so relieved when the danger passed. I even saw a tear in his eye.”
Wow. I can barely imagine Grimes crying. I turn that over and over in my mind. It’s hard to square that image with the man who looked at me so ruthlessly as he stole me from theafitable. Which one is the real Grimes?
When we go inside again, Breta and Grimes are talking, their backs to us. Breta is suggesting a game ofafi.
“I don’t know if Florian would like that,” Grimes says, sounding unusually hesitant.
Why does he think I’d object… ?Oh. He’s afraid it would make me feel bad. Remind me of my loss in the casino. Maybe he thinks it would look like taunting me, after the way he won me. He taunts me plenty, sometimes, and then at other times, like now, he doesn’t want to bring me down? I really can’t figure him out.
“I don’t mind,” I say.
He jumps at my voice, looking discomfited. Mad that I overheard his concern, probably.
I sit down at the kitchen table and watch as Breta deals the cards. We divide up into teams of two: me and Beveen, Breta and Grimes, Prevana and Tav. I wink at Beveen.
“We’ve got this, no problem,” I say.
