The Gambler (23 page)

"Tempting how?" she whispered.

His smile had long since fled. "I think you know."

She shifted her gaze swiftly to the window, which was black and blank now. "What if we kissed?"

For a moment, Raven couldn't quite believe he'd heard her correctly. He drew a deep slow breath, trying to think, to delay any foolish reactions. He shoved the splayed fingers of his right hand through his hair again, feeling the tension galvanize his muscles.

Her gaze returned jerkily to his face, where their eyes met with a jolt.

Charm held her breath and remained motionless, afraid to move. "I didn't... I didn't mean it." She tried to shake her head, but her neck felt wooden. His fingers were still embedded in the raven blackness of his hair, while his upper arm remained parallel with the bed. The muscles stood out taut and rigid under his dark skin. Charm's gaze caught there, where his biceps flowed into his muscular shoulder. Beneath his arm, she glimpsed a bit of silky black hair. Below that was a slight hollow, and then his ribs began, row after row of lean muscled bone, curving down toward his abdomen. She swallowed, feeling very weak. "I didn't mean it," she repeated.

He lowered his arm very slowly, and though she tried to ignore it, she didn't fail to notice the tight ripple of muscle through his torso as he moved. "You're frightened again."

"No!" she denied, and found the ability to shake her head.

Raven watched her face in silence, making her feel foolish. She drew a deep breath and straightened her back, wondering if it would be wise to deny it again.

"Afraid of a kiss?" he asked softly. "Or what you think it would lead to?"

"I'm not—"

"Did Jude force you to help him?"

"What?"

Raven settled his arm against the coverlet. It looked no less powerful now, she thought, but somehow less dangerous, without the muscles standing out in such stark relief. "Why did you dress so... provocatively, when you fear men's attention as you do?"

Charm's stomach lurched and she stood, pacing rapidly away. "We didn't cheat!"

He watched her closely, though his expression was innocuous. "I didn't say you cheated. I just want to understand. Why the gowns? Why the seduction when it scares you so?"

She hurried to the far side of the room, putting a few more feet between them. "It worked. Men, they're..." she shrugged. Though she tried, she feared she did not quite contain her disdain.

“Trash?"

"Easily distracted," she corrected, though she found it hard to disagree in theory. "I've studied gamblers ever since I was a child. For years." She shrugged again, feeling the familiar terror nibble at her senses. "Jude says I didn't talk." She bit the inside of her lip and scowled, thinking herself foolish for admitting such intimate details of her past to this man whom she barely knew.

"Didn't talk?" he asked now, tilting his head slightly to the side. Lightning flashed, highlighting his hair in shades of blue and black. "Why?"

"I don't know why." She turned rapidly away, wishing she hadn't spoken.

"For how long?"

"I don't know."

"But he must have—"

"I don't
know,"
she repeated, turning again, though she could barely see him in the darkness now. "But he was afraid to leave me alone. So he took me to the gambling tables with him. I had nothing to do but study men's faces."

He was quiet for a moment. "So you began to guess what cards they held."

She nodded stiffly. Her shoulder pressed against the door, giving her a modicum of security.

"How did you let Jude know your opinion?"

She swallowed, glad he couldn't see her in the darkness. "We had signals."

"Such as?"

She knew she would be a fool to tell him, and yet she did. "Like pushing my hair behind my ear."

Silence again, then, "Ahh, so you thought you knew what I held."

In all of her life, she had never spent this much time in conversation with a man. It was wearing, she thought, and yet she felt herself relax, for she was near the door and he had not tried to stop her from leaving. "You have a very good poker face," she said softly, at the same time thinking that he simply had a very good face.

Lightning flashed again, gently illuminating him.

"But why the gowns, Charm, if you could read their expressions?"

"I told you, it distracted them." She tried to keep her tone steady, but somehow that particular question wrenched her gut.

He was silent for a time, as though not believing her; then, "Have you ever kissed a man before?"

She backed up sharply against the door, finding the handle smooth and cool against her palm in the darkness. "I didn't mean it," she said, hearing the frantic tone in her voice and wishing to heaven she had never opened her mouth.

"I was only wondering," he assured her softly.

"Well..." She tested the handle, pushing it downward, making certain it wasn't locked. It was not. "It's none of your affair."

He was silent, as if debating her point.

Charm straightened her back, immediately defensive. "I never said I wanted to kiss you."

Her words fell into silence as black as the room. She squinted, trying to discern his thoughts. Though it was too dark to see for certain, she was sure he was smirking at her with that all-knowing expression of his. She drew her hand from the handle, curling her fingers into fists.

"I've never wanted to kiss any man."

From the bed came a soft snort. Her fists tightened.

"I
haven't
," she insisted.

There was silence now, but the quiet seemed even more derisive than the snort, so she tightened her fists and paced swiftly forward to confront the scoundrel face-to-face.

"I haven't!" she repeated, leaning aggressively forward, but when the lightning flashed again she saw that his eyes were closed and his lips slightly parted as he rumbled a quiet snore.

He'd fallen asleep. Well, damn it all! How dare he? How dare he fall asleep while she stood there not wanting to kiss him?

It had been another hard night. Charm remained motionless, watching Raven as he slept. He lay on his side facing her. His right arm cushioned his head and his left fell across the taut, mounded muscles of his exposed chest. His dark hair was tousled. In the early morning light, he looked quite harmless.

Why was she here, lying with a man who terrified her? Or was it simply that he
should
terrify her, but didn't? Not quite. Not anymore.

She sighed, letting worries and uncertainties wash over her for a moment. In that instant Raven awoke. She saw awareness return to his features, saw his mahogany eyes flicker open, and there she was, caught in his gaze once again.

"You've changed your mind."

"What?" She had expected him to be surprised by her presence. After all, in his last waking moments she'd been squashed against the door like splattered berry juice.

"You've decided not to go to St. Louis," he said, lifting his right arm to prop the heel of his hand against the rough stubble of his cheek.

Sometime during the night, Charm had realized she'd not only neglected to bandage his wound, but to apply the kerosene as well. She pushed the guilt from her mind and made a conscious effort to relax. "No. I haven't changed my mind. I'll just..." She broke eye contact nervously. "I'll just tell Jude my plans, then I'll go."

Raven remained very still, though when she shifted her gaze back to his face, she could now discern the faint signs of tension: the tightness in his jaw, the way the tendons stood out in sinewy ridges on his wide wrist.

"He'll try to kill me." His words fell flat and hard into the quiet of the room.

Charm scowled, and though she immediately understood his meaning, it seemed immensely safer to pretend she didn't. "What?" she whispered, needing time to consider the danger element she had somehow failed to think of earlier.

"He'll never let you go, Charm."

"You're being ridiculous."

"I wouldn't."

She remained lying on her side, very still, with every article of clothing still buttoned and tied in place. Nevertheless, she felt somehow undressed. "What?"

"I wouldn't let you go, if I were Jude."

She bit her inner lip, wildly wondering for the first time what she would tell her father. How would she justify her plans to travel to St. Louis? There was no way of explaining without accusing him of deceiving her about her heritage. Indeed, there was no way of explaining her plans at all, not even to herself. Why was she here? Why had she agreed to go with this man whose bed she so cautiously shared? Why? she asked herself desperately, but found she was unwilling to delve for the answers. So, she shut off the nagging queries and let the expressionless vizard cover her face, holding the world at bay.

"He won't try to stop me from doing what I want," she said softly.

Raven's brows lifted slightly. "My relationship with the man has hardly been one of undying friendship, Charm. Since the first moment, he thought me the devil incarnate." He paused for an instant, watching her face. "How do you think he'll react now, after I've forcefully abducted you? After we've spent whole days and nights together?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her words. "No matter how platonic the situation, think how it will look."

She felt trapped. "I'll tell him nothing happened between us. I'll convince him I want to go, that you were a perfect gentleman."

Raven almost smiled, then shook his head, slowly, the movement very slight against his supporting hand. "Whatever the man's shortcomings, Charm, he'll do what he can to protect you, and in his opinion that will mean eliminating me from the picture."

Uncertainty squeezed in, threatening to smother her. "I won't let him," she said, but her voice was a mere whisper.

Raven smiled now, but the expression was a cheap imitation of true mirth and failed to reach his eyes. "I appreciate that, Lady Charm, but you may not be able to stop him, and in my present condition, neither will I."

"But I have to tell him that I'm safe. Tell him where I'm going."

"He won't allow it." Raven's words were very quiet. "But it's your choice. I'll take you back if that's your wish. And I won't fight him. You have my word."

She stared at him. "You'd do that for me? Risk your life?"

He did nothing more than nod.

She began breathing again, feeling somehow lighter with the decision made. "If we ever became separated, I was to meet him a week later in the exact spot where we last saw each other." She paused, pushing aside her fear and uncertainty. "I'll send a letter to New Eden. I'll tell him I'm safe, that I'm going to St. Louis, but I'll be back."

"He'll follow you."

She frowned. "How do you know?"

"Because that's what I'd do."

"Why?" she whispered.

One corner of his mouth lifted into an expression she couldn't quite read, but he refused to answer. "If you tell him where you're going, he'll follow. You know he will. And he's not a well man."

"Then what do I do?" she asked finally, needing guidance in a maze of options she had never trod before.

"Send the letter. Tell him you're safe and that you'll write again soon. Or..." He almost frowned now, though not quite. “Tell him you'll return, if you like. In a month. Or two. It's your choice."

Every second seemed a lifetime. Was she safe? Or was she crazy for trusting this man? "All right. I'll tell him I'll return."

The town of Red Rock boasted no stagecoach line. In fact, Raven felt lucky to be able to buy a few provisions and an extra horse. Although the thought of riding double with Charm was appealing, the heavy load would slow their progress. He felt now a burning need to move on as quickly as possible, for the number of people following them could be multiplying by the moment: Clancy, Jude, Angel's owner, if he had a particular attraction for truly ugly horses, and any number of the men in New Eden who felt it their responsibility to complete their effort of hanging him.

They headed south and east, traveling parallel to a narrow stream. It would lead them to Jordan where they could get a coach.

"Are you all right?" Charm asked now. She sat the split-eared gelding very well and somehow managed to look poised, even while trotting.

"I'm fine."

"We could stop if you like."

It still fascinated him that she worried about his well-being, making him realize yet again how tenuous he felt his hold on her was. As far as he could tell, there was little enough that kept her near, besides her guilt over what she believed to be a nearly deadly wound. He hated to think how she would react if she ever learned the truth. But if he played his cards well, he could, perhaps, convince her of her true identity, therefore causing her to want nothing more than to meet her Missouri relatives and learn the truth of her heritage.

"No need to stop," he said, remembering to put his right hand weakly to his chest and wince. "I'm fine."

They rode throughout the day. Although they traveled as quickly as possible, it was not nearly fast enough for Raven's peace of mind, for the country was rugged and rocky here.

Sometime after noon they stopped to eat. Although Raven had hoped to reach Jordan before nightfall, it was clear now that such was not to be the case. Camp was made near the sheer slope of a yellow bluff. Not far from the stream they'd been following, it was sheltered by a million towering pines. Their fire would be well hidden, the smoke dispersed by the branches overhead. Despite the rain of the previous night, they were able to find dry wood and soon had a small blaze flickering in the hollow.

Charm sat, watching the flame rise and dwindle, thinking her own thoughts and sharing none. Raven cut and fried strips of bacon, distributed cold biscuits on tin plates, and tried not to stare at her. But it was difficult, for in the fickle glow of moonlight and fire, she looked like a lost, enchanted princess, sad and untouchable. And still he longed to touch, longed for it more than he dared allow himself to contemplate. Finally, he smoked his last remaining cheroot and tried to think of other things until the cigar was only a stub of a thing that he crushed into the earth.