The Wildest Heart

He saw how I had trapped him, and his face grew stony.

“Don’t have anything more to bet.”

They were all silent now, watching us. I thought I heard Mark’s indrawn breath beside me, but I did not take my eyes from Lucas’s face.

“Your gun. That must be worth something.”

His lips tightened, but he drew it from his holster and put it on the table before him.

I pretended to consider it thoughtfully, and Mark said tightly, “You’re still about five hundred dollars short. Why, those emeralds and that diamond ring alone are worth more than a thousand dollars!”

“But Mark’s right, of course,” I said sweetly. “Let me see—I hate to be unfair, especially when I have been challenged.” I looked appealingly at Montoya, who sat regarding me with his twisted, sardonic smile. “What do you think, señor? You set the rules for this game. And you did say ‘services,’ did you not?” He inclined his head, and I turned back to Lucas, who was watching me narrowly. “Then I will name the stakes, and if you are not afraid of having your bluff called you may accent my proposal—or lose everything you have won this evening.”

I thought that Monique clapped her hands together softly as she murmured “Bravo, Rowena!” The sun wrinkles deepened about Lucas’s eyes and he said tightly: “Name them!”

“Well,” I said softly, “if you win I will throw in another one of my diamonds. You heard my husband say how much they are worth. But if you lose—you came here to listen to a business proposition, did you not? If you lose, you will work for me and follow my orders. You’ve already staked your gun. I’ll buy it. At top wages, until you’ve paid off your debt.”

It was Mark, I think, who tipped the scales when he laughed. “By God! Rowena, I’m proud of you!”

I looked questioningly at Lucas, and he said, his voice almost savage, “Done! All right—I’m calling you.”

Smiling, I put down three aces, and then, after a pause, two queens.

I thought his face whitened with fury, but I couldn’t be sure. There was a concerted sigh as he put his hand face up on the table almost indifferently.

“Three kings!” Jesus Montoya murmured. “A pity. But you should never bet against a woman who is sure of herself, amigo. I could have told you that before.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you? Before you dealt that hand?”

“Amigo!” Montoya’s voice was reproachful. “If I didn’t know you better I might think you were accusing me of cheating.”

“I think your friend is a bad loser. Perhaps he does not care to have the tables turned.’’

It was the first time that Mark had referred openly to the past, and seeing the dangerous look in Lucas’s narrowed eyes I said quickly: “Why do men always hate losing to women? I just felt lucky this evening.”

Careless of my low-cut gown, I leaned forward, pulling my winnings toward me. The gun I pushed back at Lucas.

“If you’re to work for me, you’ll need that.”

For an instant when our eyes met, I felt myself swept back in time. And then, as if the tension had been too much to bear, everyone began to speak at once.

I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath, until I released it in a long sigh that, fortunately, went unnoticed.

Without looking at me again Lucas picked up the gun. John Kingman was pouring more brandy into our glasses, and Monique said softly, her green eyes glittering, “I have not decided yet, Rowena, if you are very lucky or very clever.”

“My dear,” John Kingman raised his glass, toasting me, “I think Mrs. Shannon possesses both advantages.”

The cigar smoke had begun to sting my eyes; and perhaps the brandy, combined with the headier wine of success, had gone to my head slightly.

“Thank you,” I said to Mr. Kingman, and then, draining my glass defiantly, I rose to my feet. “Perhaps I’m of a mind to find out if you are right.”

Mark had also risen automatically, pulling back my chair, and I smiled at him sweetly. “May I have my shawl, please? Suddenly I find it very close in here, and if you’ll excuse me, I think I would like to take a walk outside.” I turned abruptly to Lucas. “Would you act as my escort? I’m sure the others would like to continue playing—or perhaps discuss the business that we’ve so sadly neglected.”

The surprising thing was that no one, not even Mark, whom I had taken by surprise, raised a voice to stop me. I heard Monique’s high, tinkling laugh behind me as she said poutingly, “Lucky Rowena! Now she had a bodyguard to escort her wherever she pleases to go!”

And Montoya’s smooth voice murmuring, “There’s no need to look so angry, amigo! It was a fair contest, and the lady won. You will not embarrass your old friends by appearing ungallant, would you?”

I did not expect Mark to follow me. The laughing comments of the others and his own pride would not allow him to do so. And I did not deign to turn my head, as I walked outside, to see if Lucas followed me or not. I only knew he had done so when I heard the outer door slam shut behind him. Still without looking around I walked to the edge of the porch, leaning my elbows on the wooden railing that ran its length. “I do hope you’re not so poor-spirited a loser as to continue acting so sullen and fierce, especially when it was all your fault for accusing me of bluffing.”