Page 8 of A Wager With A Rake (Wicked Widows #32)

Two weeks later

Theodosia

T heodosia watched as Rosewood came into view from the window of the carriage, with Jean seated across from her. It was much the same scene as the last time she had appeared with a wide smile and excitement for her new life.

This time her leg shook from where she repeatedly tapped her foot as she fought her nerves for what she’d say to Court when she saw him.

She had written to him as soon as she’d concocted the plan with Lady Andover to ensure that he’d meet her at Rosewood.

All she said was that she had a proposition for him, hoping that would pique his interest and ensure that he would appear as she’d asked.

He hadn’t sent a response, so she wasn’t even certain he’d be there when she arrived.

A notion she hoped wouldn’t come to pass.

But, if necessary, she’d take a room at the inn and visit Rosewood every day until he arrived so that she could take him up on the offer to place a wager to win back Rosewood.

The carriage rolled to a stop in front of Rosewood’s grand entrance.

Theodosia drew a deep breath, smoothing her hands over her emerald-green gown.

Lady Andover had helped her select it, assuring her the color would make her grey eyes appear even more intense and the cut would accentuate her figure in all the right places to capture Court’s attention and ensure he agreed to their wager.

The footman opened the carriage door, and Theodosia stepped out, her legs wobbling slightly. She steadied herself, inhaling the crisp country air tinged with the familiar rose scent of the front gardens. Gardens she couldn’t wait to spend more time in once she’d successfully won her home back.

Just as she started toward the entrance, the front door swung open, and there he stood. Court. His tall frame filled the doorway, his dark hair slightly tousled, his rakish wiles on full display. He said something to one of his servants who appeared behind him, and then the man hurried away.

“There you are,” he called to her. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t delighted and also intrigued to hear from you.”

Theodosia’s heart raced as she approached Court, her eyes drinking in his rugged handsomeness. She forced herself to remain composed, remembering Lady Andover’s lessons in the art of seduction. With deliberate grace, she ascended the steps, allowing her hips to sway enticingly.

“I’m pleased you received my message,” she said, her voice low and breathy. “I was concerned you might not be here.”

Court’s eyes roamed over her figure appreciatively. “And miss the opportunity to hear your mysterious proposition? I think not.”

He stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter. As she passed, Theodosia caught a whiff of that intoxicating bergamot scent, stirring memories of their last encounter. She suppressed a shiver and forced herself forward.

The grand foyer was just as she had designed to suit her tastes—the large rug, the elegant white walls, beautiful artwork. Her home. And she ached to reclaim it. That was why she was there. And she must remember that.

Court led Theodosia into the drawing room, his hand hovering near the small of her back but not quite touching. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension.

“Would you care for some refreshment?” he asked, moving toward the sideboard. “I have an excellent brandy, or perhaps you’d prefer tea?”

“Brandy, please,” Theodosia replied, her voice steady despite her racing pulse. She required something to fortify her nerves.

He handed her a crystal glass with amber liquid, their fingers briefly brushing in the exchange.

Theodosia closed her eyes for a mere second from the contact.

She must get herself together if she was going to follow through with her plans and not allow herself to be tempted by the man.

She sat in the center of the settee so there wouldn’t be room for him to sit beside her and unnerve her further.

Court settled into an armchair across from her, taking a relaxed posture with his long legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles. His piercing gaze never left her face as he sipped his own brandy. “So tell me why you summoned me here.”

Theodosia took a fortifying sip, savoring the warmth as it slid down her throat. His gaze appeared far too heated as if he were already undressing her with his eyes. A realization that shouldn’t surprise her, given what had occurred between them the last time they had been alone together.

She leaned forward slightly, allowing Court a tantalizing glimpse of her barely covered chest. It couldn’t hurt to make him squirm a bit and ensure that he agreed to her terms. “I’ve come to take you up on your offer,” she said, her voice low and sultry.

And judging by the look on his face, he might not expect what she would say next. “To win back Rosewood.”

His playful expression faltered, contemplating what she said. Then a slow smile spread across Court’s face, his eyes darkening with interest. “Is that so? And what exactly are the terms for this wager?”

Theodosia’s heart pounded. This was the moment of truth.

She set her glass aside and rose gracefully, moving to perch on the arm of Court’s chair.

“Three games of Piquet,” she proposed. “Best two out of three. If I win, Rosewood is mine once more. You shall sign the deed over to me. And I should warn you, I intend to be the victor.” She spoke to him over her shoulder, appearing far more confident than she felt inside.

“And what exactly do I get if I should win?” he asked, scoffing.

Theodosia’s pulse quickened as she shifted her position so she met Court’s intense gaze. She leaned in close, her lips almost pressed against his ear. “Me,” she whispered, then lightly licked his earlobe. “For one night. To do with as you please.”

Court stiffened beside her, his sharp intake of breath betraying his interest. “And how do I know you’ll follow through?”

Theodosia pulled back slightly, allowing her fingers to trail along his arm. “You’ll have to trust me. Just as I have to trust that you will sign the deed over to me when I win.”

He studied her face intently as if searching for any sign of deception. Theodosia held his gaze, willing her expression to remain unaffected by him. Even if that were so far from the truth, given how she clenched her thighs together.

“I could seduce you right now, and then there shall be nothing left for you to wager.” Capturing her wrist, he brought her knuckles to his lips. “I could, you know, Tess.”

Oh, he was good. Far too good. But she had prepared herself to resist him. Getting Rosewood back was far more important than having a single night with him. Even if she had little doubt it would be the best night of her life.

She pulled her wrist from his grasp and rolled her eyes at him.

It was for show, but she must make her point.

Sliding off the armrest, she allowed herself to sit on his lap.

He groaned when she did so, and there was an undeniable bulge pressed against her hip.

She had him exactly where she wanted him, and she couldn’t falter now.

“I’m able to withstand your efforts, Court.

Do you agree to the terms of the wager or not? ”

He almost appeared offended by the remark. “You should know that I haven’t lost a wager in years.” His arm fell around her and gripped her hip, pulling her tighter against him.

“Then you shouldn’t hesitate to make such an arrangement if you are so confident.” Her words were far breathier than she should have allowed, so to regain control, she rubbed her hip against his bulge.

He swallowed hard and stifled a groan. “One week,” he ground out. “Should I win, you are mine for an entire week. I think that is only fair, given that I stand to lose an entire estate.”

“I thought you didn’t lose,” she said, taunting him.

He chuckled. “I don’t. But the terms should at least be fair, should they not?”

She knew she could beat him. She had trained with the best, and she had taken to the game remarkably. At the end of the wager, she’d have the deed in her hands, and if he required comfort after his crushing defeat, she just might be willing to provide that, too.

Who was she kidding? She would absolutely do so, but he needn’t know that. That would just be the cherry on top of the perfect plan to recover her home and begin her life as a carefree widow who could do as she pleased.

And she wouldn’t lie to herself and pretend that coupling with Harcourt Eliot would be any kind of hardship. It was all she’d dreamed of these last weeks. Besides holding the deed to Rosewood, that is.

Part of her felt guilty that she had planned and practiced taking the estate from a man she’d known for most of her life, but it was what he’d done to her father. If men could behave in such a manner, she could, too.

Besides, he had other estates and the benefit of being a man with a fortune of his own. He hadn’t the same need for the property as her, and there was no way it meant as much to him other than a matter of his male pride.

And, of course, he still had a chance of winning. It wasn’t as if she was stealing it from him. He entered the arrangement willingly and agreed to the terms.

She drew a deep breath, deciding she had nothing to feel guilty over. Theodosia stood from his lap and glanced at the ridge in his breeches before smirking at him. It had been just as simple as Lady Andover said it would be. “You have a deal.”