Beauty Tempts the Beast (Sins for All Seasons #6) - Lorraine Heath Page 0,68

alone. When he could have pressed his lips to the heart of her palm, could have traced the lines that some claimed predicted one’s future. Her palm contained a slight roughness, one callus, all of which he suspected had been absent before the maggot sitting at this table had turned his back on her.

And yet that palm told a far more interesting tale than it might have if it had been as smooth as silk, and he valued it more because it wasn’t.

After folding the glove over his thigh, he loosened the three buttons on her cuff and began rolling up the fabric along her forearm. “We don’t want anyone to think you’re hiding a card up your sleeve and accuse you of cheating.”

“Oh.” The single word came out on a breathy sigh, and he wondered if she was becoming as wet as he was becoming hard. He really should have done this elsewhere, where it might have led to a kiss . . . or more. Another mistake. A worse mistake.

The silence at the table was nearly deafening, and he could sense the other men were absorbed in observing his ministrations, no doubt each of them experiencing at least a modicum of envy. Therefore, he went even slower when he removed her other glove and rolled up her sleeve. When he was done, he lifted his eyes to her face and discovered she was studying her hands as though they were suddenly foreign to her, as though she was striving to determine how they had come to be hers.

Finally, she met his gaze, and he saw a woman dearly in want of ravishing, a woman he dearly wanted to ravish.

A harsh clearing of a throat had her jerking slightly and turning her attention to the dealer.

“As I said, everyone ante up.”

Beast didn’t fail to notice that Danny’s voice was a little rough at the edges, slightly hoarse, and he wondered if he might be seeking a woman’s arms when he was done here.

The five other players at the table—which included the dealer—tossed in their chip. Thea looked at him, and he saw an infinitesimal amount of doubt in her eyes. With a smile for encouragement, he gave her a nod. She carefully selected a chip as though the one chosen made a difference, and scooted it across the baize-covered table to join the others. He wasn’t the only one who watched the journey of that slender, elegant hand.

Danny began dealing the cards. Beast signaled to a passing footman. When the young lad arrived, Beast said, “A sherry for Miss Stanwick and a scotch for me.”

“Right away, sir.”

“You know what she likes to drink?” Chadbourne asked, surliness woven between the syllables.

Beast held silent for all of a minute before bestowing upon him the grin that men had been displaying for centuries when they knew they possessed what another man coveted. “I know everything she likes.”

Althea had the distinct impression two games were being played at this table.

One involved cards and was being played between her and Chadbourne. The other involved . . . Well, to be honest, she thought it quite possibly involved her and was being played between Chadbourne and Benedict. Based on the frequency with which the muscles in the earl’s cheeks jumped, she was rather certain Benedict was winning. Especially as he appeared to be so frightfully relaxed and enjoying himself, rather like a panther that had just pounced upon a gazelle and feasted. It was an unfair match. The gazelle had never stood a chance.

She wasn’t certain the odds of her winning when it came to Benedict were much better. Her plan had seemed so uncomplicated when it had taken shape in her mind, mostly because at the time she’d thought her heart dead, naught but ashes scattered on the wind. Her mind hadn’t been much better. Three months after the destruction of her world, her ability to handle complicated matters was nowhere to be found. She’d still been numb at ending up where she had, so far from where she’d envisioned life to take her. The numbness had been a blessing, stopped her from going stark raving mad.

She’d reasoned that her absent heart and numbed mind would make it easier to do what needed to be done because her heart wasn’t there to make her long for things, and her mind had no desire to think about things. Except the winds had shifted and blown her heart back into her chest, and her mind was