A Touch of Camelot by Delynn Royer Read Free Book Online Page B

eyes, and rested his head back against the soft bolster seat. "I don't play games unless the odds are in my favor."
    "Or unless an assignment demands it of you. Am I right?"
    "That's right."
    She stage-whispered to her brother. "In other words, he's a skinflint."
    Cole let the taunt pass. Having picked up its best speed by now, the train traveled over straight, flat track. The constancy of motion and the steady clicking of the wheels began to seduce him into sleep.
    "We don’t have to play for money, Shepherd."
    He cracked one eye open. She wore a cunning smile. Oh, that lovely mouth . It was just too darned bad she was a crook, too darned bad that those kissable lips were so adept at lying. "What would you have us wager?"
    "Oh, I don't know." She tapped a corner of the deck on the table, pretending to think, then she batted her eyelashes at him. "How about, if you draw the winning card, my brother and I promise to behave ourselves for the rest of the trip?"
    "And if you draw the winning card?"
    "We get off at the next stop."
    "Not likely, Miss Pierce."
    She sniffed and turned away. "You know, over the span of four long days, you're liable to 'Miss Pierce' me to death."
    Cole straightened up in his seat with a sigh. It was clear she wasn't about to let him have any peace. "Would you prefer I call you Gwendolyn?"
    "Why would you do that?" Arthur asked. "That's not her name."
    "Really?" Cole was surprised. "That's the name in your file at the Agency."
    She arched a brow. "Your precious file is wrong."
    "Her name is Guinevere," Arthur said.
    "Guinevere?" Cole looked back at her with interest. "Like in—"
    "Yes," she said curtly.
    Arthur wasn't daunted by his sister's annoyance. On the contrary, he appeared delighted. "She was named after Queen Guinevere of Camelot."
    Guinevere sank down in her seat and scowled out the window. Cole winked at her brother. "Then you must be none other than King Arthur himself."
    The boy beamed. "You bet!" He scooted to the edge of his seat and plunged one hand deep into the side pocket of his overalls. "And this," he announced, proudly displaying a ratty-looking slingshot, "is Excalibur."
    "I thought Excalibur was a sword."
    "You thought wrong, Mr. Shepherd."
    Cole couldn't help but like this kid. He was bright, ingenuous, and had a good sense of humor. "Ah, I see. I'm honored to be in such royal company."
    Guinevere turned back abruptly. "Could we just dispense with all this nonsense and get down to business?"
    "We don't have any business to get down to, Guinevere," Cole said.
    "No one calls me that. My name is Gwin. Maybe our mother believed in fairy tales, but I certainly don't."
    Cole appraised her. "No? You mean, you don't believe in 'once upon a time'?"
    "No."
    "Not princesses in white towers, not knights in shining armor?"
    "Certainly not," she said.
    "Not even happy endings?"
    "Especially not those."
    "As you say, your ladyship."
    "My brother has a big mouth. I suppose now we'll have to put up with your feeble attempts at humor all the way to San Francisco." She threw Cole a shrewd look. "That is, if we make it that far."
    "Oh, we'll make it that far," Cole assured her.
    She didn't answer him. Cole looked over in time to catch Arthur's sudden change in demeanor. He was biting his lip and looking expectantly at his sister, all traces of good humor vanished.
    "What's the matter?" Cole asked.
    The boy didn't look away from Gwin, who pointedly ignored him. "Gwinnie? Why don't you tell him?"
    She shook her head, her gaze fixed on the featureless prairie that passed outside the window. "He wouldn't believe us anyway, Arthur, so just save your breath."
    Arthur turned back to Cole. "You're not such a bad guy, are you, Mr. Shepherd?"
    "I suppose that depends on who you talk to about it."
    The kid forced a weak smile, but it dissolved into another worried frown. "If you take us back to San Francisco, they're going to try to kill us, just like they did the others."
    "What do you mean, 'they'?"
    "I