Tim was already shaking his head. “You should have seen it in her eyes, my friends. And now, I have to be off. The sunrise waits for no one,” he said as he shifted his chair back.
Adele also sighed heavily as she too got up from the table. “He’s right. I’d better be off to bed. Special breakfast tomorrow morning.” She looked at Darcy and noted the extra few pounds. “You’re looking much better, my dear. But a few more mornings of my healthy breakfasts and you’ll look great.”
“But it’s only nine o’clock,” she cried. “You can’t leave me now. The night’s still early.”
“I’ll take their place,” Sergei’s deep voice said from the doorway of the kitchen.
Darcy’s head spun around to look at him and no matter how hard she tried, there was no way to stop the blush that crept up her neck as her eyes collided with his grey ones.
The others disappeared and Sergei walked in, sitting down across from her, watching as she became more and more flustered. He really liked that about her, he thought, that he could affect her just by walking into the room. And damn, when he touched her, she went up in flames for him. That was a heady feeling and he’d wanted more of it ever since this morning on the beach.
The problem was, he didn’t understand her. She definitely wasn’t the kind of woman he’d originally thought she was so who was she? The pieces of the puzzle didn’t fit and he hated a mystery, always needing to uncover the truth of any situation.
And if he were completely honest with himself, she fascinated him. He wanted to know why she stiffened up at odd times, reverting to painful politeness or retreating behind a façade of ice princess. He wanted to break down those barriers and see what lay underneath. The glamour was washed away with the island casualness but there were so many other layers that didn’t make sense. He’d peel them away and find out the truth. Then he’d be satisfied, he told himself.
“What are the stakes?” he asked, watching her facial features, curious as to why a party girl who hopped from night club to night club in all the most glamorous cities of the world and wore dresses costing thousands of dollars each time, would be holed up in a kitchen playing cards with the servants. And enjoying it, no less.
Why wasn’t she complaining about her confinement, demanding to be entertained like his previous mistresses had always done? This tiny slip of a woman simply found ways to entertain herself, learning a new skill, helping out where she could, laughing it up with people she was supposed to deem unworthy of her attention. And her reading materials certainly didn’t fit with the flighty, aimless image she projected. Her tears over a working class woman’s pain were completely out of the realm of party girl topics to discuss.
Damn, she was beautiful, he thought as he shuffled the cards, enjoying simply sitting across from her and watching the emotions flit across her face. He knew the exact moment when she had come up with what she considered a viable lie to get out of playing cards with him.
“I don’t want to bother you and, the others were right, it’s pretty late.”
“Nonsense,” he countered, almost smiling at how predictable she was. “You slept in more than an hour later than they did, plus you fell asleep this afternoon. So you’re well rested.”
Her fingers fluttered in the air and he chuckled. “No…I…”
“You’re scared of being alone with me,” he said softly, leaning forward and dealing the cards swiftly with his strong, lean fingers.
She stared at him for a long moment, then exhaled and her shoulders drooped. “Yes,” she admitted.
“Why?”
She examined her nail as she considered how to answer him. “Because I’m afraid of you.”
He grinned, impressed that she was able to be honest even if that added another slight mystery to the puzzle. “You shouldn’t be.”
“Why? Are you going to keep your distance from me?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?” she asked with a pained expression.
“Because of this morning.” He started dealing the cards rapidly, his fingers flying and the cards landing almost perfectly in a pile right in front of her.
Darcy picked up the cards, anger building inside of her. “That’s exactly why I want to keep my distance and for you to be considerate and keep your own as well.”
He tossed in ten pennies while shaking his head. “That’s exactly why I’m not going to keep my distance. And you don’t really want me to,” he countered, looking at his cards and shifting them about slightly.
“How could you bet ten cents when you haven’t even really settled your cards?” she asked with a grimace as she shifted her own, keeping her pennies right in front of her until she’d developed her strategy for this hand.
“I’d already seen my cards.”
“And you already knew exactly what odds you needed to play?” she asked sarcastically.
“Of course.”
“Of course,” she sighed. “Fine. Here’s your ten cents and give me three cards.” No way was she going to lose to this man.
She lost the next three hands, losing all of her gains from the previous card game.
“You’re not watching me,” he said calmly as he dealt the next hand and watched her fume at her losses.
“Why would I watch you?”
“Because then you’ll know when I’m bluffing. You don’t really play your own hand,” he said as the cards flew across the table once again. “You play your opponent’s hand.”
“Really,” she scoffed. “And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”
“By watching me. Analyzing my body language and noting anything different while I play.”
She glanced up at him and her breath caught in her throat. He was leaning back in the uncomfortable chair, his legs stretched out underneath the table and looking like an extremely large panther, waiting to pounce. That impression only increased when he looked up from his cards, straight into her eyes and she caught the intensity there, the patience that told her this was so much more than a card game.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked against her better judgment.
“You don’t want to know,” he said and tossed down two cards.
Darcy took the cowards way out and looked back down. “Perhaps its better I don’t know. I’ll take two cards,” she said and tossed them into the center of the table.