Lonesome Rider and Wilde Imaginings by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online

palms up. “You can fold,” he reminded her politely.
    Her teeth gnashed together. “I want more!” she insisted.
    She was a fighter, he thought, and he was startled by the sudden emotion he felt for her. She didn’t quit.
    And she hated like hell to lose.
    He leaned forward. “All right, let’s lay it all on the table. If I win, I get you for the night. No strings attached. If you win, you get me. In your employ. For free. For, let’s say … maybe a month. How’s that?”
    She was breathing very hard, he could see. Her breasts were rising and falling swiftly.
    â€œIs it a deal?”
    â€œDeal,” she said very softly. He started to turn his cards. Her fingers fell over the back of his hand. “How do I know you won’t renege?”
    â€œYou’ll have to trust me.”
    But she stopped him again. “How do you know I won’t renege?”
    He smiled. “Because I won’t let you,” he assured her confidently. “I collect on all debts owed me.”
    His black eyes met her emerald ones. And once again, he began to turn his cards. He started with an ace, another ace, a queen.
    â€œTwo pairs!” she exclaimed, her triumph sliding into her voice. She laid down her hand.
    It was a good hand. Three jacks, two kings. A damned good hand.
    But not good enough.
    She started to reach for the pile of coins on the table. He cleared his throat loudly. “Ahem, Mrs. Dylan.”
    She stopped, freezing with her palms around the coins, staring at him.
    He laid out his last two cards. “I’ve a full house, too, Mrs. Dylan. And mine is queens high.”
    â€œOh!” The sound escaped her. And once again, those elegant, blazing green eyes were on him. His fingers fell upon hers, curling hard when she would have wrenched her hand away. “You’re mine, Mrs. Dylan—for the night. And thank the good lord! The night is still young!”
    He let her snatch her hand free. She started to rise.
    â€œReneging, Mrs. Dylan? Don’t forget, I collect on all debts owed me.”
    â€œNo! I’m not reneging!” she snapped back. “I pay all my debts,” she assured him. And her voice was suddenly husky, he thought. Feminine. Vulnerable. Enticing him to a new hunger. “Just not here!” she whispered. Her eyes were on his. Unblinking. “I’ll be waiting to pay. The—the doors connect,” she reminded him.
    Then she turned. And, head held high, she fled gracefully from the Jackson Prairie Bar and Saloon.

Chapter Five
    M rs. Peabody’s was very quiet when Blade returned. He heard a clock strike. It was one a.m.
    He came into his room and leaned against the door. Inhaling, exhaling. What did he think he was doing? Taunting her, trying to torture her into going home? Why the hell did he care what happened to her?
    He gritted his teeth. He did care. Maybe it was the first time he’d cared in a long time, and maybe it was damned hard to have to feel again instead of move on, seeking nothing but a vengeance that had now turned ice cold, but all the more determined. Why her?
    There were no answers. Hell, maybe there were, he thought again. All he had to do was look at her, watch her, hear her voice. He’d cared when he’d followed her to begin with. He’d cared because he hadn’t wanted to see blood running against her marble flesh, because he hadn’t wanted to hear her scream.… Because once he had seen her, he hadn’t wanted to imagine another man touching her, hurting her, having her.
    He pushed away from the door. He wasn’t going to demand anything from her. The poker game had been his bluff. She needed to go home, whether she saw it or not. It was his last chance to convince her. He could never really touch her. She would be like a taste of honey, sweet, beguiling. She would make him hungry, again and again.
    The door between the rooms was closed. He stared at it for