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She wanted to kiss him again.
And again.
Their carriage entered the yard of the Palais Royal.
She wanted him to ride him, in truth this time. Take him deep inside her body. Give herself to him. It would be so sweet. So hot.
She heard the distant sounds of gentlemen and ladies calling to one another. All of this merrymaking, the rush and revelry of life, could be theirs as well.
“To be continued,” she whispered in his ear as the carriage slowed to a stop.
Chapter 20
“Le jeu est prêt, Messieurs et Mesdames,” announced the dealer, a slender man wearing a red-and-black-striped waistcoat that matched the alternating colors on the gaming table.
The game was ready.It certainly was, thought Indy. And not just the game of chance she’d staked her brother’s money on tonight.
Raven was staring at Le Triton, Le Triton hadn’t stopped staring at the necklace Indy wore, and Le Triton’s stunningly lovely companion, Miss Delacroix, hadn’t taken her eyes off Raven since the moment they entered.
Raven hadn’t been exaggerating. Evil emanated from Le Triton in an almost visible aura. His gaze gave her a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach.
His face had flat planes, as if drawn on a cave wall by an ancient artist who hadn’t learned the meaning of dimensionality. He could be considered handsome, though he had a slight overbite that brought his upper lip into prominence. His eyes were light blue and his hair red brown. His ears were set high, and had hardly any lobes, just a slight incline into his jawline.
The dealer flipped another card face upward. “Noir.” He would continue dealing until the cards turned exceeded thirty points in number. Then he’d do the same with the packet of red cards.
When she looked at Le Triton she heard sinister music playing in the background. Cellos scraping rhythmically, drums beating in an insistent rhythm, music to signal that something ominous was about to happen in this room.
This opulent, ostentatious room that looked like a giant ormolu clock, all creamy walls and gold coating every available surface. He wanted the world to know he was wealthy and powerful. The pettiest tyrants usually did.
There was nothing tasteful about the room. Everything was designed to overpower the senses with overstated luxury. He was a man obsessed with wealth who would do anything for gold. He’d trample anyone in his path.
Miss Delacroix was merely an expensive accessory, valued only for her pale golden beauty.
If Indy had to hazard a guess, she’d say that Raven and Miss Delacroix knew each other quite well. Funny, because Raven hadn’t mentioned that he knew her, only that she was Sir Charles’s current mistress.
She must be Raven’s former amour. A rush of red-hot jealousy made Indy’s fingers shake against the table.None of that, now. You can’t be possessive of something you don’t own.
Indy watched Monsieur Le Triton as the cards turned.
Her thoughts flew as quickly as the cards. She barely noticed when red was announced as the winner.
A break in play was announced and most of the punters dispersed. Miss Delacroix approached Raven and Le Triton joined Indy.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Lady India?”
“Immensely, monsieur.”
“Or perhaps I should call you Lady Danger?” His pale eyes wrinkled around the edges but his lips didn’t smile.
“I answer to both.”
“How did you receive your nickname, may I ask?”
“Oh the scandal sheets love to give everyone nicknames. I’m a female in an unconventional occupation so I must love danger.”
“You are an archaeologist, which is inherently dangerous, is it not? Tombs may collapse upon one’s head. Sands may shift.”
Was that a veiled threat? Indy wished Raven would stop talking to the gilded Miss Delacroix. Indy would even welcome the aggressive ownership he’d displayed at the Louvre. Talking to Monsieur Le Triton raised the hairs at the back of her neck.
