Tropical Christmas Stag (Shifting Sands Resort 7)

“Give me another chance,” Conall challenged, stung with guilt. “I won’t let you win again.”

Gizelle’s face brightened with a slow smile. “You may not have a choice,” she taunted him, laying out the pieces again.

This game was far more even, and both of them spent many frustrating rolls trying to get their checkers off the center bar. Conall won by just a few pieces, and they were both laughing and alternating curses and praise at their dice at the end.

Gizelle showed Conall where Tex kept the nut mix when his stomach growled in hunger, and they snacked and played a third game, which she took handily despite Conall’s best efforts.

It would have been even more fun if Conall hadn’t been fighting his urge to kiss her. Several times, reaching for dice, their hands almost touched, and Conall found himself watching her mouth when she concentrated, longing for its taste.

Was her glance up through her eyelashes an innocent look, or an invitation? Did she lick her lips thoughtfully just a little more slowly than she needed to? The sarong she was wearing showed more leg than her previous dresses; was it on purpose?

He wanted her to laugh like this forever, and was unwilling to risk the brief easy companionship they had at the moment to test their boundaries, but he wanted her so badly.

“Gizelle,” he started, as she put the pieces back into the box, and he put out his hand to her, palm up. “Good game,” he said as lightly as he could.

She froze momentarily, checkers still in one hand, and then looked between his face and his hand.

Triumph started to bloom in Conall’s chest as she slowly reached for the offered hand with her own empty hand.

Then she startled, snatching her hand back. All of her attention riveted to Tex, who had just appeared around the corner of the bar and clearly said something.

Conall could cheerfully have thrown the board at the bartender, and was able to follow none of the conversation that then occurred; it was too fast, not facing him, and his elk was groaning and stomping in frustration.

Then Gizelle was scampering away as if she’d forgotten him entirely and he was sitting alone with a backgammon board missing a third of its checkers, hiding behind the bar like a boy playing hooky from school.

He swept the remaining pieces carelessly into the board and snapped it shut, rising to find Tex watching him. The bartender looked amused, and worse, pitying.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the cowboy said. “Scarlet asked me to see if Gizelle wanted to do some reading.”

Conall found the games shelf that the backgammon board had clearly come from and returned it to the empty space.

“Can I get you a drink?” Tex offered when Conall turned briefly back.

“It’s a little early for that,” Conall declined crossly. His elk firmly reminded him of his manners. “Thanks anyway.”

Tex shrugged. “We’re on island time. No one will judge.”

“I’m paying a fairly astronomical amount of money for meals I keep missing,” Conall said with a stiff smile. “I think I’ll go try to catch one of them.”

Tex tipped his hat to Conall. “Good call. Chef’s food is not to be squandered.” He paused and then added, “You shouldn’t feel discouraged. She’s already easier with you than with people she’s known for months. We’re all actually really impressed.”

Without tone to telegraph unspoken things, Conall’s sense for truth had dampened into something unreliable.

But something uncoiled in his chest anyway.

Something suspiciously like hope.

Chapter 27

Gizelle’s reading lesson with Scarlet was a disaster. She arrived to realize that she was still holding the checkers from the backgammon game in one hand, and couldn’t concentrate on anything that Scarlet said or read.

She wished that she’d taken Conall’s hand when she had the chance—two chances! She wished she was someone different. Someone smarter about people. Someone... else. She thought about how Laura and Tex liked to hold hands across the bar, how Travis and Jenny kissed each other every chance they got. Even Wrench, who didn’t like to be touched, got all soft around the edges and reached for Lydia whenever they were together.

“Gizelle?”

Scarlet put the book down and Gizelle realized that at some point she had fallen back onto the grass so she could look up at the sky that was blue like Conall’s eyes.

“I’m not all here inside today,” she said regretfully as she sat up. Clutching the checkers was making her hand sweaty.