Authors: Shirl Henke
The next round of cards gave him a pair of jacks, her an ace high with nothing else. She appeared to consider, then slid off
the robe, revealing the ripe curves of her breasts and the way the lace skirt hugged her hips. “Thirsty?” she asked when he
swallowed hard.
“Double-dealin’ witch,” he murmured as she rose and poured two crystal flutes with icy champagne, then handed one to him.
“A very good year,” she said consideringly.
As he took a swallow, a thought suddenly occurred to him. “Horace know about this?”
Delilah gave a low, throaty chuckle and shook her head. “You needn’t fear he’ll burst into the room with his rifle and a preacher,”
she said. “Now, deal.”
This time he lost and removed one stocking. He lost again and removed the other. Delilah pouted. “When are you going to take
off that shirt?”
“I was only bein’ considerate. That would ruin your concentration.”
“Vain man,” she huffed, and dealt.
He grinned when his full house beat out her fl ush, but his heart pounded as she slowly unfastened the long row of buttons
on her slinky lace skirt and wriggled out of it. Shegrinned when his face registered disappointment that she still wore silk
pantelettes beneath.
An entire damned dress shop!
His shirt came next.
But he’d been right. Her concentration was in tatters as she watched him unbutton it and slide it off his broad shoulders.
She was glad he hadn’t worn shirt studs and cufflinks, else they would’ve been playing until daybreak. Delilah had more pressing
plans. It was pure pleasure to see the bronzed muscles of his chest ripple sinuously when he threw the shirt onto the growing
pile.
“Time to get serious, Deelie,” he said in a husky dare, staring at the cleavage of her lace chemise. Now they each had two
articles of clothing left to remove.
Who would win…or would they both? With a cunning smile, she began laying out the cards in two rows once again. His winning
streak picked up again. He won the hand and waited to see whether she would remove the chemise or the pantelettes. Clint had
never been so intent on the outcome of a hand of cards in his life. The tension in the room made the candles flicker even
though there was no breeze stirring on the river.
When she began to untie the drawstring holding the neckline secure, his breath caught. The seductress allowed the lace to
drop from one breast, cling to the other. The warm air caressed her nipple, and it hardened to match the ache in his pants.
He wanted to sweep the cards from the table and carry her off to bed, but somehow that seemed wrong. No, this was her game
and he needed to allow her to play it out.
The second breast peeked over the chemise as the lace dropped to her waist. “Take it off,” he said hoarsely, then watched
as she stood and pulled it up over her head, thrusting forward those glorious breasts so that he was dying to cup them in
his hands. “A perfect pair,” he whispered, taking the cards in clumsy hands and somehow managing to shuffle them before he
dealt again…and lost.
“Unlike me, you appear to have no choice about what toremove next,” she said with glee in her voice. He had early on relinquished
his belt. Pants and underwear were all he had left.
He muttered an expletive as he stood up, revealing his all-too-obvious condition to her while he struggled to unbutton his
fly, no easy feat considering how rock hard his erection was. She stood up and moved over to him, reaching down to deftly
slip the buttons from their fastenings.
Her fingers brushed against the probing length of his shaft, and she could tell he was exerting extreme willpower not to stop
the game and take her right there on the carpet. That both pleased her and made her wary. “Now, doesn’t that feel better?”
she cooed.
Clint shucked the breeches without comment as she returned to her seat.
Delilah picked up the cards while he sat down, clad only in black silk underdrawers. When he growled at her, she began to
lay out the last set of cards, taking her time, her breasts jiggling as she dealt.
All he could look at were those magnificent breasts with their hard pink nipples, palm-sized breasts that stood up without
the assistance of corset stays. He found it incredibly difficult to pay attention to the cards as she began laying out the
final hand.
After six cards, he had four clubs, seven high, while she had four spades, ace high. If she got another spade, she would have
an ace-high flush. There was no way he could beat that even if he filled his flush, but he had an ace of hearts and a king
of clubs. His two high cards would take the game if she didn’t get her flush.
Delilah moistened her lip and shifted in the chair, pausing before laying out the final two cards. She could feel his eyes
burning her sensitive breasts, feel the perspiration trickle between them as she studied his scarred yet sensuously handsome
face. He did not get another club. Then she dealt herself a three of hearts.
Clint leaned back in his chair. “I win, Deelie.” His eyes devoured her slim body, admiring the pale, milky breasts and thegolden,
sun-kissed skin above them. He did not have to ask her to remove the lacy drawers. She slipped the tie and very slowly began
to roll them over the curves of her hips, pausing when she reached the burnished curls at the juncture of her thighs.
He could see the thin sheen of perspiration glistening on her body and knew he was hotter yet. “By heaven, I’ll lick every
damp, lovely inch of you,” he said in a low growl.
“Well, then…” She lowered the pantelettes and kicked them away, then stood before him completely naked. Her heart was
pounding and her mouth was dry with fear. He could accept her invitation to make love, then leave her afterward, more alone
than she had ever been in her life. Although she knew he understood the commitment she wanted, she had not made it a part
of this night’s wager, insisting only that he continue their business partnership if she won. And she had lost…he could
do exactly as he chose.
“You win me, Clint…if you want me,” she said simply.
“I’ve wanted you since the day I met you, woman,” he said, sweeping her into his arms and striding to the bedroom. He tossed
her slender body onto the large, soft mattress, then stood back and slid his underdrawers off, watching in hungry pleasure
as she reached for his erection and took it in her hand. Fists clenched at his sides, he let her slide her warm, soft fingers
around, up and down until he could stand it no more.
“Enough!” he growled, pressing his knee on the bed while he pried her eager hands away from their toy. He gently pushed her
back against the pile of pillows at the head of the bed and lay beside her, caressing her breasts, cupping one, suckling the
other until she moaned and dug her nails into his shoulders.
Her hands moved up, seizing fistfuls of his coarse, straight hair and pulling him up for a searing kiss that deepened as he
slanted his mouth over hers at various angles, letting his tongue rim her lips, demand entry, then plunder. She returned the
thrust with her tongue, twining it with his, clamping her thighs around his narrow hips. The stars and all theplanets seemed
to whirl around her as she held him fast and felt their hearts beat as one.
He desired her with a blinding passion…but was that passion enough to hold him? Delilah did not know, but for right
now it was enough. More than enough. She felt the crisp abrasion of his chest hair when he slid down her body, licking and
kissing her throat, tracing dancing patterns along her collarbone and in the vale between her breasts, then swirling the tip
of his tongue inside her naval. She arched as he laved her concave belly and moved inexorably lower toward the dark curls
below.
He tasted the creamy moisture, sweet and rich as an elegant dessert, and knew her fierce desire, knew how to slake it…and to reawaken it again and again.
When his mouth brushed her, she cried out, begging him for more. He obliged, using his lips and tongue to bring her to a shattering
climax that left her limp and spent for a moment, while he kissed the sensitive insides of her thighs and moved down to the
backs of her knees. He knelt on the bed, lifting one leg at a time to apply the magical restorative, bringing her hunger back
to a keening peak when he nuzzled the arches of her feet, first one, then the other.
Her toes curled with pleasure.
But when he moved back to her center, she pressed her hands against his shoulders, stopping him, murmuring, “Now it’s my turn.”
She pushed him flat on his back and knelt beside him, taking in the sight of his big, hard body. She began by kissing every
scar, the angry slash that sheared his left eyebrow, the narrow white line below his right eye. Ever so slowly, she paused
to lick and tease the ridges of healed flesh on his chest, nuzzling both small brown nipples until he growled.
“You’re not the only one who wants to taste,” she whispered, breathing on his chest hair, moving lower to the long, deadly
scar curving around his side. It could have ended his life. In time, perhaps, he might tell her where he had received it…but not now. His legs were corded with sinewy musclesand she kissed each scar on them, allowing the tips of her breasts
to brush one thigh while she touched the other with her mouth. When she moved up his right leg, her hair brushed his groin
and he bucked, emitting an oath as his hands seized it, pulling pins free so that it spilled over him.
But when she held his pulsing shaft in her hand and pressed her tongue to the head, he grew very still. “Deelie, you’re killin’
me,” he whispered.
“A good way to go, is it not?” Her voice was low, rich, confident as she licked a pearly drop from him.
He let her tongue dance up and down the steely length of his staff, pressing his palms against the mattress to keep from grabbing
her. Let her have her way for a moment longer…only a moment. He could withstand the intensity of the pleasure no more
than that! When she took him in her mouth, the heat sent a lightning bolt searing through him and he reached down, pulling
her up and under his body, spreading her legs with his knee.
“Now, my love, now,” she whispered, raising her head to kiss him while he plunged deep inside scalding, wet satin, and seated
himself to the hilt. They exchanged kisses, tasting of each other, adding to the building excitement. She wriggled her hips
but still he did not move.
“Slowly, love, slowly,” he crooned, beginning to stroke as she wrapped her legs around his hips and followed his pace.
It was leisurely and it was glorious, drenching them both in sensuous feelings of oneness. Where did he end and she begin
…or she end and he begin? She looked up at his sweat-sheened face and her eyes locked with his. Brushing back the thick
lock of hair hanging across his forehead, she pressed her mouth against his throat and whispered very low, “I love you, Clint,”
not expecting any words in return, yet still hoping.
He said nothing. His mind, all his senses, were reeling with emotions he had never felt before in his life. This was so utterly
different from what he had known with any other woman, even his wife…. That life was over and he could letgo of it now.
This one was only beginning. The certainty filled him as surely as her sweet heat surrounded him.
While the tempo of their lovemaking intensified, he knew that Deelie had won. He allowed her to rush to the crest, then followed
her over the tumbling abyss into ecstasy. Delilah felt him swell and spill himself deep inside her as her own body shuddered
with passion. The weight of his body pressed her into the mattress as they struggled for breath. His face was hidden by her
tangled hair.
Over labored pants, she thought she heard him murmur, “I love you, too.”
But she could not be certain. Perhaps he had not heard her declaration of love. But she would have to work up courage enough
to finish tonight what had begun between them so many months ago. A soft, sad smile curved her lips as she held him closely
and said, “This all began with a poker game…and now it’s come full cycle.”
“Mmm,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck, planting a kiss on her shoulder, ready to resume making love again.
“No, Clint,” she said softly, firmly, sliding from beneath him and sitting up. “There’s something we have to discuss.” He
watched as she raised the dripping bottle of champagne from the bedside ice bucket. “Will you do the honors?” she asked, offering
him the bottle and a linen napkin.
He took the bottle and opened it quite expertly, pouring into two glasses, which she provided from the small table beside
the bed. He leaned back against the pillows and pulled her to his side, raising his glass for a toast. “Shall we drink to
next spring’s run up the Missourah?”
She clinked her glass against his and took a sip. “It’s Missouri,” she corrected, watching him swallow. “But that isn’t exactly
what I wanted to discuss.”
He looked at her over the rim of his glass. “No?” he prompted, taking another swallow.
“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”
“Only seems fair, Deelie, considerin’ you haven’t exactlybeen easy on me since the day we met,” he said with a glint of amusement
in his eyes.
“All right,” she said, tossing back the rest of her glass and placing it forcefully on the table. “Will you marry me, Clint
Daniels?”
He could see she was holding her breath. Ever so slowly, he drained his glass, then tossed it on the thick carpet beside the
bed. “Yes, I do believe I will, Mrs. Raymond…even though you did cheat.”
Delilah was flummoxed. Should she yelp with joy or pummel him? Instead, she squeaked, “Cheat? What do you mean, cheat! I never
cheat. I’m too good—I don’t have to.”
“How could a man concentrate on the cards with these beauties dancin’ in front of him?” he asked, cupping one breast, then
the other. “I love you, Deelie. I reckon it took some grit for you to make me understand that. I’m sorry I’ve been too wrapped
up in my own guilt to see the plain truth. We’re too damn good together ever to let this go…and I don’t just mean in
bed. You’re strong and smart, the best partner I could ever have. ’Course, you’re also a mite stubborn and devious—”