Page 52 of On Thin Ice (Ice 6)

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He looked at her. He’d been hoping the memory of that wretched time in the foul apartment might have dissipated some of his roaring lust. Instead he couldn’t stop thinking about her, couldn’t stop remembering the feel of her beneath him. Her hands, clutching at him as he rocked against her, her mouth underneath his, the feel of her, the smell of her skin, the taste …

She’d been doing her absolute best to keep him at a distance. Her devotion to that told him all he needed to know, even without catching her staring at him when she thought he wouldn’t notice.

She refused to flirt, refused to let him anywhere inside the walls she’d erected around herself. They might never have shared that desperate trip out of the jungle, the narrow cot in the cabin, the bone-shaking kiss in the hotel hallway. He understood – he had the same walls around him and no one was getting inside them.

“Don’t look so worried, Sister Beth,” he said, lightly mocking. “I’m only talking about a good, nasty fuck. We’ll both be the better for it.”

He expected an argument, but she ignored him. Shuffling. Shuffling. He knew she’d take the wager. She might even try to cheat. He’d watched her deal from the bottom of the deck before and she wasn’t that bad. No match for him, of course, but not bad. It wouldn’t do her any good, and neither would dithering. He was going to have her tonight, and she knew it. Wanted it, against her better judgment.

He stopped for a moment, considering whether his overwhelming need for her was clouding his perceptions. Maybe he was fooling himself into thinking she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

No. There were some things he knew. What lay between them was unstoppable, unbreakable, and there’d be no peace for either of them until it was done.

She glanced up at him, and he looked into her deceptively calm eyes. The pull, the demand was there like a dark, living thing between them, and she didn’t even seem to recognize it. That, or she chose to ignore it.

“You’re going to have to face the fact that you want this, you know,” he said suddenly, his patience beginning to wear thin.

“Want what?” The riffling sound of the cards was loud in the charged silence.

“Sex. With me.”

She slapped the cards down. “This game is over.”

“No, it isn’t.”

She picked them up again, and began to shuffle, ignoring him, and something snapped.

“If you shuffle those fucking cards one more time I’m going to throw them overboard,” he snarled.

“Fine.”

“Deal.”

He saw the flash of uncertainty in her eyes, and then her mouth thinned. “Fine,” she said again. And she dealt the cards, fast, neat, no attempt at stacking the deck.

“We’re agreed on the stakes?” he said, looking at the cards that lay face down on the scarred old table.

She was afraid, he realized with sudden shock. It should have made him back off. But he was like a wolf who’d found his mate, and he wasn’t about to let her go so easily. Not when her fear was irrational and misplaced. He wasn’t going to hurt her, and deep inside she had to know it.

“Yes.” Her voice didn’t shake. Her hand did.

“You first.”

She picked up the cards, looked at them, then spread them out on the table. A full house, eights and jacks. She didn’t bother to hide her relief, and the look she gave him was triumphant. “Too bad,” she said lightly.

“Don’t you want to look at my hand?”

“Even you aren’t that lucky.” She flipped the cards over, one at a time. Ten of spades, jack of spades, queen of spades, the bitch goddess of the card deck and his personal favorite. He relaxed, knowing he had her.

Her hand stilled and her fear was back, running neck and neck with his anticipation. King of spades. Ace of spades.

“Royal flush,” she said bleakly.

“Yes.” It would be spades, he thought, not the juicy red hearts. What lay between them was darkness and pain, not valentine’s day.

He rose, and held out his hand to her. If she refused, tried to bargain, he told himself he’d walk away. She was way too much trouble. The sex would be lousy with a semi-virgin like Sister Beth, and he just wasn’t interested in a challenge at the moment.

Fuck that. He couldn’t walk away. Sane or not, he wanted her too badly. He waited, not saying anything.


Tags: Anne Stuart Ice Romance