Thursday, 11 November 2010

Excerpt Day - Gambling with Love © Kaye Spencer

Excerpt

Minutes later, the doorknob turned, and the door opened into the room. That she didn't try the key told him she knew he was waiting for her. It was her gambler's nature. She noticed every little detail. When she hesitated at the threshold, her hourglass figure was silhouetted for a moment against the dim yellow hallway light before closing the door. She crossed the few steps to the fireplace, situated the coffee pot at the edge of the fire, placed a cup nearby, then dropped her room key and purse on the table. Taking her time and seemingly oblivious to his presence, she removed her short jacket and draped it neatly over a chair back.

 

Sashaying to the bed, she looked down at him. Firelight and shadows played off her swept-up golden tresses, and visions of their last night together in New Orleans seized him. Right then, he hated himself for how shamelessly he still loved her.

 

"You can only imagine my extreme disappointment when I saw you on the stairs. All this time I'd hoped you were dead."

 

The teasing welcome in her tone belied her harsh words, and a warm rush of desire went straight to his groin. It was hard to keep his voice steady with a churning den of rattlers twisting around in his stomach. He'd never loved a woman before Lainie had waltzed into his life, and even though she'd run out on him, there was no room in his heart for another woman now.

 

"Your aim was off. It was just a flesh wound." There wasn't enough light for her to see it, but he turned his head, gesturing at the scar that began at his right temple and ended over his ear.

 

"Why are you assuming my aim was off? It did knock you out, which was the object of my intent, I'll have you know."

 

He cocked an eyebrow, mocking her. "So you're a sharpshooter now?"

 

The lyrical lilt of her laughter warmed his heart. He loved that about her. She lived each moment with optimism and humor, and nothing seemed to dampen her spirits.

 

"Well, next time you use that little parlor gun of yours, make sure you're close enough to cram it right into the poor chump's belly when you pull the trigger."

 

"Why, thank you so much for the advice. I'll remember that. However, in my defense, if you hadn't tried to disarm me, I wouldn't have pulled the trigger. It was your own fault that I shot you. Your ultimatum left me no choice but to demonstrate the sincerity of my convictions." Her voice dripped with syrupy sweet sarcasm.

 

He remembered only too well. "You gonna shoot me again?"

 

She busied herself with lighting the oil lamp on the bedside table, replaced the chimney, and adjusted the wick. "That depends upon your intentions toward my virtue."

 

As the room lightened, he saw the little grin that played at the corners of her mouth. Self-constraint vanished, and he pulled her down to sit beside him at the edge of the mattress, her subtle jasmine fragrance making it all the more difficult to keep his hands to himself. "You know my intentions toward your virtue have never been honorable."

 

Reaching under her skirt, he slipped his hand between her knees and slowly inched his way along the inside of her silky smooth thighs just to see where they stood with each other. The devilish gleam in her eyes promised heaven at the end of his journey, and she spread her legs a little, inviting further exploration.

 

© Kaye Spencer

Gambling with Love

Author: Kaye Spencer

Publisher: Breathless Press

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Disowned by her wealthy Charleston family when she married a gambler, Lainie Conrad lived a charmed life of European travel, good times, and gambling until Rutherford Tolliver decided to claim Lainie for his own. Now, widowed and certain that Tolliver killed her husband, Lainie plots revenge, but she doesn't want Ford's life.

She plans to ruin him in a high-stakes poker game. The problem is, she's fallen for U.S. Marshal Nick Foster, who is duty bound to arrest her for a murder she didn't commit. Derringers, poker, and her feminine wiles become weapons in her quest for retribution.

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