Page 11 of A Wager With A Rake (Wicked Widows #32)

Theodosia

A fter supper, Theodosia trailed Court, following him to his study, the very room where she’d beaten him at chess earlier that day. Hopefully, good fortune would continue to be on her side. She’d need all of it, as her control was steadily slipping with every moment she spent in his presence.

The urge to allow him into her bed was far greater than she’d expected. She’d only taken to reading earlier, so she might get away from him and regain control over her urges before she caved and enjoyed every bit of his form.

Theodosia watched as he rummaged around in his desk.

“It is going to be Piquet, correct?” He pulled out a worn deck of cards and set them on the table before urging her to take her seat. “And are we to play a single game to determine the winner for tonight, or the best of three games?”

Theodosia met his gaze, pondering his question. Playing the best of three would give her a better chance to assess his strategies and improve her odds of success. “Best of three. Each game shall be the first to reach one hundred points.”

Court shuffled the cards with an expertise that spoke of his skill for cards. “I agree with those terms.”

“And might you fetch the parchment and ink for scorekeeping?” she asked, nodding toward his desk.

“You don’t trust me to track in my head?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Court feigned a huff as he rose and gathered the items she’d requested, as well as his decanter of brandy and two glasses. He set the parchment and quill near her on the table and then picked up the cards.

“You wound me, Tess.”

She rolled her eyes at him before flashing him an amused grin while he poured them each a healthy pour of brandy. “Not a fatal wound, I trust.”

He chuckled, low and rough, pushing one glass toward her.

“At least not yet, but the evening is young, I suppose. A bit of brandy shall ease some of the sting.” Candlelight glinted off his signet ring as he shuffled a few more times and then set the deck before Theodosia.

She cut the deck and handed it back to him before he dealt the cards with swift flicks of his wrist.

For several moments, they played in charged silence, the brandy feeling as smooth fire sliding down her throat with each sip.

Theodosia watched Court from beneath lowered lashes, his chiseled features appearing even more dangerous in the candlelight when he was deep in thought.

She shook off the realization as she must focus on the game at hand. The stakes were far too high.

Not that she minded in the slightest if she were to spend a week at the mercy of the man across from her, but she needed Rosewood. Her comfortable, contended future on her own terms depended on it.

Each time their eyes met over their respective card play, the heat sizzled between them, and the air grew thicker.

They finally broke the silence with friendly banter and jested at each other’s skill, which she must admit he proved to be a formidable opponent.

Not that she was surprised. She knew she wouldn’t best him easily, but she held her own.

She slammed her fists onto the table when he won the first game.

“Are you sure you don’t wish to go ahead and declare me the winner now?” he teased.

“Deal the bloody cards,” she grumbled.

He laughed and stacked the deck to shuffle. “Now, now. Don’t tell me you are already rattled. A skilled gambler must keep their cool better than that.”

She reached out and cut the deck, rolling her eyes at him. “Just lulling you into a false sense of security.” Reaching for her glass, she downed the rest of her brandy, which Court promptly refilled, as well as his own.

In truth, she had a good measure of his gameplay from the first game. She might have lost, but she had learned quickly how to read strategy from what she had been taught and felt confident she would beat him in the next game, barring the most unlucky hands of cards.

The second game went by with only a few jabs at each other, since each of them concentrated on their cards. Theodosia took an early lead, and Court appeared on edge, which turned to a flash of irritation when she crossed one hundred points.

She almost jumped from her chair to dance in delight when she won the game. To his credit, he was mostly a good sport about it, besides throwing his cards on the table.

“You don’t appear to have much to say now, Court.”

“I would hate for you to lose every game, so I hope you revel in this victory because you shan’t have another.”

Theodosia smirked at him, feeling quite confident she’d win the last game, thus securing the first official win in their wager. Their glasses were empty again, and Court refilled with healthy pours.

They began the final game, and there wasn’t a word said between them, each of them remaining focused. If it weren’t for the crackling of the fire and the movement of the cards, there wouldn’t have been a sound in the room.

At last, Theodosia displayed her final hand with a triumphant flourish. “I believe that’s the game, my lord.” Satisfaction curled through her veins, heady and sweet.

Court stared at her cards, genuine surprise overtaking his features before melting into admiration. “Well played indeed.” He inclined his head. “But don’t expect it to occur again tomorrow, dear Tess.” His tone wasn’t as confident as his words.

Theodosia cast him a wide grin and lifted her glass in a toast. “To chance.”

Court’s sensual mouth quirked. A mouth she already knew she longed to kiss, and she had to force herself to quit staring at his full lips. He touched his glass to hers with a faint clink. “To chance,” he murmured, “and to my very dangerous opponent.”

They drank, eyes locked, and something unspoken passed between them again.

Trying to think of something to speak about instead of how much she longed to crawl into his lap, she drained her glass and slammed it on the table. Not the most ladylike action, but the effects of the brandy had taken the edge off of her control.

Suddenly, he rose from his chair and moved to his desk. “I have something for you. Perhaps you might call it a bit of a trophy for your first and only win in our wager.”

She eyed him curiously as he returned with a box that he set before her.

Curiosity piqued, Theodosia slowly opened the box to reveal a smooth object made of a fine wood.

Rosewood, she believed. For an instant, confusion overtook her tipsy brain.

But then, her cheeks heated, and she bit her bottom lip with dark excitement when she realized what it was…

a phallus, exquisitely crafted to resemble the male anatomy and undeniably erotic.

A thrill shivered down her spine. Not that she would admit that to him. “When? Why? What were you thinking?” Her tone was one of intrigue and jest, not offense.

“After our last encounter, I hated the notion of you being left with only your fingers.”

The place between her thighs throbbed, and she clinched her legs tighter together.

Her chest rose and fell from where she fought to calm her breathing from her wanton thoughts.

Searching for anything else her muddled mind could come up with, she blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“Think you’re feeling brave enough for one of our games of dares? ”

Shite. Her brain was clearly working against her. A game of dare would become far too dangerous. Damn the brandy.

He eyed her curiously. “If you aim to dare me to use that on myself, count me out. That is only for you.”

The way he appeared almost scandalized caused her to burst out into a stream of giggles.

“I hadn’t thought to issue such a challenge, but if you are too afraid to play…

” She allowed her voice to trail off and rose from her chair.

She’d make her escape after putting herself at risk of doing something that could ruin the entire wager.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he taunted her. “I am not even slightly afraid of whatever your beautiful, devious mind might come up with.”

She fought the grin that wanted to form from how he referred to her as beautiful. No man had ever done so. Not even her husband. He arranged for a young bride and then didn’t even have the decency to make her feel even remotely good about herself for what her life had become with him.

“All right then,” Theodosia said, returning to her seat, eyes gleaming as she thought of something.

“I dare you to recite a scandalous bit of poetry. The more shocking, the better.” Why was she teasing herself?

At least it would give her something to think about when she tended to her own needs later.

Court quirked a brow, his gaze smoldering. “I hope you don’t offend easily.” He cleared his throat theatrically, then launched into a bawdy verse, his voice a low purr that seemed to stroke along her nerve endings.

“Oh, fair delight with heaving breast,

A temptress bold, so damnably blessed!

Yon bodice strains, the seams do fight,

To cage twin globes — so succulent and tight.

Thy thighs, like silken prison bars,

Doth trap me between thy Venus scars.

Oh, lips that pout, so lush, so lewd,

Begging to taste, and see you nude!

I’d sell my soul, I’d damn my name,

For but one night of scorching flame!

So let them whisper, let them pry,

I’d rather drown between thy sweet thighs!”

He spoke each line slowly and as if he were speaking to her rather than reciting the poem. Heat bloomed beneath Theodosia’s skin, but she maintained an air of amused composure. When he finished, she applauded lightly. “Scandalous indeed,” she said, her mouth dry.

“I believe it is my turn to issue you a dare.”

She braced herself for what he might dare her to do, and knowing she was far too stubborn to walk away from a dare, no matter what it was.

He sat back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “Take your gift into your hands and suck on the head.”