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Her lush mouth curved up at the corners. “I see I’ve managed to silence you at last.”
All his senses were heightened by unrelenting want as he focused on the woman before him. The color had risen in her cheeks, making her eyes appear even brighter as she teased him. The pulse at the base of her throat was a rapid flutter. Her small hand was hot and dry in his grasp as they slowly circled the ballroom. As he watched, the pink tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her ripe lips, leaving behind a pearly sheen that begged his attention.
He knew she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. The thought sent another lightning-flicker of need spearing through him. Something had to be done about this before he was driven to act recklessly. “Speaking of invitations, has there been any hint of my receiving the one we spoke of before?”
Perfect lips parted in a gentle smile. “He certainly seems quite fond of you.”
A sinking sensation settled the pit of his stomach. “I had hoped by now that you—both of you—would be more than just ‘fond’ of my company.”
Something like regret flashed in her eyes, but she didn’t have a chance to answer as the waltz drew to a close. Before he knew it, she was gone, led away on the arm of another gentleman who appeared far too enamored of her for his liking.
Black jealousy pricked him sore as she turned her brilliant smile on the poor, dumbstruck bastard. Bad enough he had to compete with the bloody music teacher. The last thing he needed was yet another rival. The supreme irony of it elicited a quiet laugh. He was competing with a man he didn’t even know for the affection of another man in whom he wasn’t the least bit interested. And all for her.
There had to be a way to hasten this along before it grew any more complicated. He knew he was making headway with Diana. They’d spent a lot of time together and talked enough now that he could see the signs. She wasn’t quite there yet, but soon. As for Harrow, he was but a hair’s breadth from infatuation.
This thought made him squirm a little, and not merely from discomfort at the idea of being lusted after by another man, but from guilt. He was playing a cutthroat game, and its victim was a capital fellow, a genuinely good man in a city full of bad ones. In the beginning, he hadn’t been concerned for anyone’s feelings but his own. Now…
But damn it all, he couldn’t walk away. Not when he was so close to winning her over. He stuffed the guilt away in a dark corner and shut the door on it. Sentimentality had a nasty habit of getting in the way of obtaining what one wanted. It wasn’t as if he’d be leaving the man broken and alone. Harrow had his lover to console him.
When Diana complained of sore feet later in the evening, Lucas invited her, Harrow, and Westing to join him in a game of whist in the drawing room, where he’d had several tables set up for his guests’ pleasure. The first few rounds were full of jests and friendly banter. When Harrow rose with the intention of having a smoke, he could have followed him and Westing, but decided Harrow had been the focus of enough of his attention tonight and remained with Diana.
He gave her a disarming smile. “Have your poor, abused feet recovered?”
She winced and with a little huff of rueful laughter shook her head. “I’m afraid I won’t be dancing anymore tonight. Lord Burlington trod upon my toes without mercy, and he is no small man. I shall count myself lucky should I manage the return home without having to be carried. Shall we continue playing, or did you have something else in mind?”
Lucas marked that although the words were suggestive, her tone wasn’t. “Cards it is, then. A round of Speculation, since it’s just us two?” As she nodded agreement, inspiration struck. “What say we learn which of us is the better player?”
One brow arched. “Is that really fair, considering gambling is your profession?”
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of losing?” he teased, continuing to shuffle the cards.
A slow smile stole over her lips as she held him with her eyes. “Do I look afraid? Deal.”
Within half an hour, he realized any losses the lady suffered were the result of pure bad luck rather than any lack of skill. Several games later, the tally showed them tied for the number of wins, with her slightly ahead in currency, which up to this point had been only markers, as it would’ve been ill-mannered for a gentleman to play against a lady for actual money.
Several of the room’s other occupants had abandoned their games to watch them. Eventually, Harrow and Westing returned and joined the gathering, but neither expressed an interest in rejoining the game.
Another half hour passed, and he was down by two wins and a few markers. Losing was never a pleasant experience, but in this particular instance he was exactly where he wanted to be. “You’re a masterful player,” he conceded. “Shall we raise the stakes and make it a little more interesting?” he suggested as she was dealing another round.
She kept her gaze trained on the table, where she was laying out cards. “What do you propose?”
“Five rounds. Both players begin with fifty markers, and the one with the most markers at the end wins. Loser grants a forfeit to the winner.”
Sea-green eyes flicked up to meet his. “Care to be a bit more specific?”
Giving her a lazy grin, he answered lightly, “No.” He watched as her gaze became wary while she contemplated her response.
Before she could answer, Harrow chuckled softly and came up behind her chair to place his hands on her shoulders. Bending, he murmured at her ear, loud enough for those closest to hear, “Go on, Diana. You’re the best player I’ve ever known.”
Tipping her head back to meet her protector’s eyes, she gave him a look full of uncertainty.
Then Harrow shocked him and everyone present by leaning down and pressing a brief kiss to her upturned lips, and whispering, “Show him how it’s done, my dear.”
Lucas’s gut clenched as a flush tinted her cheeks, turning them rosy. Doubt resurged at her telltale response. Harrow’s hands still rested on Diana’s shoulders, absently stroking them as he stared at Lucas with a faintly amused expression.
Are they, in fact, lovers? Unease rippled through Lucas, and feather-brushings of panic caused his stomach to knot. It took all his self-control not to show how unnerved he was as Diana returned her attention to him.
No smile graced her lips now, and her gaze was clear and sharp. “Very well. I agree to your terms.”
