Bronwyn Scott by A Lady Risks All Read Free Book Online

personality, yes. She wondered if she could change the one without altering the other? Without altering him ? Because Greer Barrington was eminently likeable just the way he was. She had not bargained on that. She lined up her last shot and took it with a little extra force to ensure the slip. She would make her shot—he would be suspicious if she didn’t— but her cue ball would hazard and that would decide the game in his favour.
    Mercedes thumped the butt of her cue on the floor with disgust. ‘Devil take it,’ she muttered on her breath for good, compelling measure, her face a study of disappointment. ‘I had that shot.’
    Barrington laughed. ‘You’re a bad loser.’ He said it with a certain amount of shock as if he’d made a surprising discovery. He shifted his position so that he half sat on the edge of the table, his eyes alight with confidence and mischief. But Mercedes already knew what was coming. Part of her wanted him to take the money and be done with it. If he was smart, he’d pocket that envelope, walk out of here and forget all about the Lockharts. His blasted chivalry was about to work against him.
    ‘I’ll give you a chance to win it back. One game takes all, I’ll wager my envelope against—’
    She interrupted. ‘The road. Your envelope against the road. I win, you take my father’s offer.’ Don’t do it. The wager is too much and you should know it.
    Barrington studied her for a moment. ‘I was going to say a kiss.’
    ‘All right, and a kiss,’ Mercedes replied coolly. But she wasn’t nearly as cool as she let on. This wouldn’t be like the previous set of games where she’d been entirely in charge of the outcome. She’d decided who’d won and it had been easy to control things simply by losing. She wouldn’t have that control here. Her only option this time lay in complete victory.
    She chalked her cue and watched Barrington break one of his shattering breaks in the new style becoming popular in the higher-class subscription rooms. She studied the lay of the table and took her shot. On her next shot, Mercedes carefully leaned over the table, displaying her cleavage to advantage where it spilled from the square neckline of her gown. If he could take off his coat, she could make use of her assets, too. She looked up in time to catch Barrington hastily avert his gaze, but not until he’d got an eyeful. She smiled and went back to her shot. ‘Like butter on bread,’ she said after it fell into a pocket with a quiet plop.
    Barrington shot again. ‘Like jam on toast.’ He raised a challenging eyebrow in her direction. His shot had been an easy one and he had the better lay of the table. None of his remaining shots would require any particular skill or luck. If she didn’t do something now, he’d outpace her and win. The shot she was looking for was risky. If she missed, it would assure Barrington’s victory and she’d have some explaining to do to her father. But if she didn’t try she would likely end up losing anyway.
    She bent, eyeing the table. Unhappy with the angle, she moved, bent, sighted the ball and moved again. Finally pleased, she aimed her cue. ‘I find jam a bit sticky.’ She shot, the cue ball splitting the pair she’d sighted perfectly, each one rolling smoothly to their respective pockets.
    The Captain favoured her with a sharp look. ‘Impressive. I think you may have been holding out on me.’
    Mercedes lifted a shoulder in a shrug. ‘A lady must have her secrets, after all.’
    * * *
    Two shots later she claimed victory. Her risky shot had paid off.
    Barrington settled his cue on the table, a not entirely happy look on his face. ‘You win. The road it is.’
    Mercedes came around the table and stood beside him, guilt threatening to swamp her. She’d goaded him into this. She’d directed the evening towards this very outcome. Perhaps it hadn’t been fair. ‘You’ll like it. You can play billiards all day, all night, and my father will