The Gambler by Lois Greiman Read Free Book Online Page B

"I'd catch you," he assured her, though he seriously doubted his ability to capture a hoptoad in a water barrel. In fact, sitting down had been a mistake, for he was entirely unsure whether he could rise again. How embarrassing to be found there in the morning, all alone, with Charm and Jude long gone. But no. It wouldn't be embarrassing, for he would probably be dead, if the lady's expression indicated her thoughts. She hated him, Raven deduced. He wondered at that fact now, for most people didn't hate him until they'd known him for at least a full day.
    "I just need some answers," he said now, catching her gaze with his. "Miss Grady wasn't anything to me, you understand. This isn't personal. Maybe she was dead when you found her. You just took her possessions. No one would blame you for that. I just need the truth."
    She said nothing, but watched him, her body very stiff. Anger flared in his chest again, but he tamped it down.
    "She would be twenty-one this year." He paused, waiting.
    "I told you." Charm's tone was clipped. "I got it from my mother."
    He drew a deep breath. "All right. What was your mother's name?"
    "Eloise."
    "And her maiden name?"
    "Medina."
    "Eloise Medina? Really?" He rose slowly, not thinking to hide the pain now. "Have you told her?"
    She eyed him nervously as he paced past. "What?"
    It was that fake innocence that made him nearly snap. He turned with a start, barely stopping himself from grabbing her to him. "I said, have you told her yet that she has a daughter?" he asked. "Because when I last talked to her, no one had informed her of the birth. And she's a nurse of sorts; you'd think she'd have noticed such a thing as a baby. But wait. How strange. I'm certain she said she's to be married for the first time in just a few months. No former husbands. No former children."
    "You're insane!" Charm gasped out the words, backing stiffly away. "My mother's dead."
    "That I don't doubt. But Eloise Medina is very much alive. And she wants her niece back. Her niece! Chantilly Grady. Ring any bells now?" he asked, gritting out the words.
    "No."
    "Damn it, woman!" he swore, but suddenly he remembered the miniature painting. Dropping his hand into his pocket, he pulled out a small leather bag. From it he drew out a tiny portrait that he thrust toward her. "Old lady Sophie refused to change with the times. No family photographs. But I managed to find this." He thrust the tiny oil portrait toward her. "This would have been the girl's mother. There may be some resemblance. Does it look at all familiar?"
    Charm's eyes widened. There was something about the frail, peaked face in the oval. Something... Eerie silence gripped the room as memories rushed in on her like a dark, consuming wave.
    "Was she with Chantilly when you found her?" Raven asked.
    A gun exploded in Charm's mind.
    "No!" she gasped, certain for the flash of a moment that she herself had been shot. "No!" She was breathing hard. "I don't know her."
    "You never saw her before?"
    It was hard to breathe. Half-remembered nightmares assaulted her. She dropped the miniature into her pocket. "No," she whispered.
    Raven watched her. "You lie," he said evenly. "But blast if you don't do it well. Almost as good as..." he began, and reached for her again.
    But suddenly the derringer was in her hand. She backed away a step.
    "Touch me again, and I'll kill you," she warned. "I swear I will."
    He stopped. His eyes were narrow and shadowed by his dark brows. "Like you killed Chantilly?"
    "I told you." Her voice quivered. Where had she seen the face in the tiny portrait? Where? "I didn't kill anyone."
    “Then where did you get the Bible?"
    "My—"
    "Don't say it, Charm," he warned, holding up a hand between them. "I pride myself on my self-control. But I have my limits."
    She pursed her lips, trying to think. How was she going to escape? And what about Jude? She couldn't leave him to the mercy of this madman. She longed to glance toward the bed, hoping Jude was