Page 3 of The Duke and the Darkness

“I have my moments.”

“Yes, I’m certain you do.” She won the hand, and the dealer pushed her winnings toward her. “Occasionally.”

Thatstung his pride, both the barb and the loss. Yet Devlin doubled the amount of the opening bid on the next hand.

She didn’t blink in matching it. “Do you often lose?”

“No,” he drawled. “Usually I win.”

“What a coincidence.” She smiled but didn’t glance his way. Was that flirtation…or amusement at his expense? “So do I.”

As if to punctuate her comment, one of the other players rose and left the game. Only three of them remained at the table now, and the stakes increased as they played on until each hand was worth over one thousand pounds.

The attendant brought the bottle of cognac and a glass on a silver tray, then set them at Devlin’s right elbow. Devlin tossed him a coin and splashed a small pour of brandy into the glass. He held it out to her.

She arched a disdainful brow. “That’s a rather small pour, don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t want you to assume I was attempting to get you foxed.” But he added a second pour to the glass.

This time, she accepted it. “And in my experience,” she said as she smiled against the rim of the glass, keeping it raisedto her mouth and his attention on her ripe lips, “men greatly underestimate ladies’ abilities.”

“In drink or cards?”

“In everything.”

His gut tightened. Surely, she hadn’t meant that as sexual entendre, yet her words wound through him, leaving an aching tingle in their wake. Who thehellwas she? Why couldn’t he place her?

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.” He held out his hand. “Devlin Raines.”

She held out her glass for topping off. “A pleasure.”

With a chuckle, he splashed more cognac into her glass.

This woman was sharp, whoever she was. He was still no closer to ascertaining if she was a lady or a courtesan. Or why she stirred shadowy memories in the back of his mind that frustratingly he couldn’t quite uncover. He wasn’t a eunuch, for God’s sake. He should have remembered everything about an encounter with a woman like her.

“And you are…?” he prompted.

“Going to win.”

Devlin grinned. Her confidence was damnably alluring. He enjoyed witty women who were able to hold their own in any conversation. Throw in the way she looked, all warm and soft and sensual, with enough flesh revealed to make him wonder what the rest would look like when she was bare—

“You seem to be a man who appreciates a woman who knows what she’s doing.”

His mouth twisted at that veiled flirtation. “What gentleman doesn’t?”

“Before this night is over, I’ll be on top.”

His cock jerked in his breeches.Jesus.There was no veil that time.

“Surprised you, did I?” A cat-like smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “I’m not a courtesan out for your money, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she told him loudly enough that a man walking past the table faltered mid-step before moving on.

He chuckled. He admired her audacity, even if he found her mysterious enough to give him pause. “Good to know my fortune’s safe.”

“Oh no, you misunderstand. I’m definitely out for your money.” She rested her elbow on the table and her chin in her palm, then gazed at him with an expression of such forthright honesty that he bit back a laugh. “But I’m not a courtesan.”

“Thank you for putting my fears to rest,” he drawled.

But she hadn’t. It bothered him that he couldn’t place her. She wasn’t one of the Spanish or French women who had entertained him on the Continent, nor one of the widows who had so eagerly thrown themselves at him since he’d returned. Nor was she a mistress seeking a new protector, although that was more likely given that he hadn’t seen her in society before—if she werehislover, he’d certainly keep her locked away from all other gentlemen.