When she paused, King nodded hesitantly. She burst into a large smile and reached for those damn pearls again, making sure she had King’s attention, before she set the hook.
“I told him he needs to buy the land deed from you! Then you can take the money—oh, trust me, I’ll make sure he makes a fair deal!—and tootle off someplace bigger and better. I can tell, a refined man like you deserves someplace much grander. Have you been to San Francisco?”
Without giving him a chance to answer, Tavie winked and rushed on. “Johnny seems happy here, and that matters to a sister, you have to understand. He could make a modest income, picking up where you leave off, collecting rents. And if he wants to play in the dirt here with these—these people”—she waved her free hand dismissively—“then it’ll be worth it to know he’s happy.”
Then, before King could respond, she placed her hand on his forearm and lowered her voice. “And I’ll know you’re off to bigger and better things, so that will set my mind at ease.”
God Almighty, she’s doing it.
She didn’t need to be intimate with King, as he’d teased. She just needed to hint at it, and the man was all but slobbering. Of course, the compliments didn’t hurt either.
But maybe King was stronger than Jack had given him credit for, because he cleared his throat as he placed his free hand over hers on his forearm. “It’s not a land deed, my dear, but I am interested to hear you—and your brother’s—offer.” He cut his eyes toward Jack, but quickly gave her his attention once more.
“Not a land deed?” Tavie repeated with a slight frown, still playing with her pearls.
For the first time, Jack noticed she’d lined her eyes with something to make them appear larger. That, or maybe it was the color of the gown, which made them a brighter green and caused them to sparkle with delight.
Or maybe that’s all her.
He remembered what she’d told him: There was a part of her in every role she played. So just as she put herself into the role of his mother’s mousy companion, she also was this joyful, flirtatious heiress.
And she might’ve been playing a role that night she’d kissed him, but there was a part of her in there too.
A slow smile tugged at his lips, as he leaned forward to hear King explain what they already knew.
“You see, my dear, it’s a deed to a mine. A silver mine, right up there in the mountains.” King jerk his chin over her shoulder. “But interestingly, the deed not only covers the mine, but a significant amount of the valley as well, including some of the land the town sits on. Since the mine is empty”—he cut his eyes toward Jack—“and everyone is aware of that, the ability to rent the land becomes the deed’s only remaining value.”
I’ll bet the townspeople would disagree.
“Goodness, how interesting!” Tavie exclaimed, stroking her gloved fingers along King’s arm. “However did you come into possession of such a unique deed?”
The older man appeared self-satisfied when he leaned back in his chair, pulling his arm out from her touch, just far enough, so her hand now rested atop his. When he turned his hand over to take hers, then began tracing small circles on her palm, Jack had to clench his hands into fists atop his thighs to stop himself from reaching across the table.
Tavie, of course, kept her breathless attention on King, and Jack had to remind himself it was all part of the game.
Why the hell would you feel jealous, anyhow? It’s not as if she’s given you any reason to think you are anything more than a game to her as well. She only kissed you because she was in a role!
No, he couldn’t believe that. She might be used to kissing her marks, but she’d stopped kissing him, and that had to count for something.
Right?
King cleared his throat and smiled at Tavie. “Well, my dear, I acquired it the same way most men out here do business: over a game of poker.”
“Oh, my! You play poker, Mr. King?”
“Please call me Augustus, and yes. I recently started playing again frequently, as a matter of fact. I’ve been having some…staffing issues recently, and have found that spending my evenings here in town, at the Three Queens saloon, is a pleasant way to pass the time.”
“Is that where you won the mine deed, Augustus? Here in town?”
He chuckled dryly, his hand still in hers. “No, indeed. I met the previous owner, Mr. James Hoyle, in Helena. The poor man was right in the middle of a losing streak.” He shook his head sadly. “Some men just don’t know when it’s in their best interest to stop.”
Jack reached for his glass of wine to hide his scowl, but his hands shook with rage as he picked up the crystal, so he forced himself to take a deep breath. He’d thought it bad watching King try to charm Tavie, but it was even worse listening to the man disparage Father.
Tavie, on the other hand, grinned wryly. “I know exactly what you mean, Augustus.” She cut her eyes to Jack, as if letting King in on an inside joke, then chuckled. “So you’re saying Mr. Hoyle ran out of money and put the mine deed up as a stake?”
“Exactly!” King sat forward abruptly, pulling her hand a bit closer. “I could tell you were intelligent. Hoyle was desperate, and I didn’t think it was taking advantage of him.”
“What was your hand?” Tavie whispered, as if fascinated.
“Four kings, naturally!” King boomed with laughter. “I beat his two pair easily!”
“Four kings, goodness,” she said, looking impressed. “That’s a…that’s a remarkable piece of luck, Augustus. Statistically—”
“A good poker player doesn’t rely on luck, Miss Douglas. Or may I call you Nina?”
“You may,” she said with a becoming blush, then reached for her pearls and drew King’s eyes to that particular area once more. “But the only way I can imagine to guarantee a hand like that, would be to somehow know the arrangement of cards ahead of time!”
And that was the lynchpin, wasn’t it?
* * *
Tavie did her best to act as if she were fascinated by King’s every word. The character she was playing was worldly and sophisticated, so she couldn’t be too confused by his actions. The ditsy debutante act worked on some men, but if she wanted to gain King’s confidence, she needed to be like him.
Smooth, suave. Charming.
So she squeezed King’s hand, pretending the flirting didn’t make her nauseated in the slightest, and winked at him. “Augustus, you naughty boy. Never say you cheated!” She burst into laughter after embodying that word with as much affront as possible, so he would know she was teasing him. “Didn’t your mama tell you only naughty boys do such things?”
She turned her laughter to Jack, desperately praying he’d pick up on what she needed and play along. King needed to believe he was amid cronies.
Thank God, Jack understood, and grinned lazily. “And what did Mama say about naughty girls, sister dear?”
She laughed harder, the gloved fingertips of one hand tracing circles on the skin of her décolletage. “That I must be a very naughty girl, indeed!” she chortled. “And Johnny dear isn’t much better!”
Jack, bless him, offered King a sheepish grin and a shrug. “What’s a little cheating amongst friends? That’s what I always say.”
King’s eyes were narrowed as he glanced between them. “A good businessman—”
“Accounts for every possibility,” Tavie finished with a wink. “So you see, Augustus, four kings really is a remarkable statistical abnormality.”
“Ah, yes, my naughty girl…” King winked back at her. “But what’s a little cheating amongst friends?”
He’d done it. He’d all but admitted he’d cheated in the poker game to win the Bicycle Mine!
Tavie had to force herself to keep her breathing steady, and not to glance at Jack in triumph. The poor man was doing his best to be charming tonight, but she could imagine how hard the entire evening must be for him, sitting across from the man who’d cheated him out of his inheritance, and most likely killed h
is father.
Instead, she patted King’s hand. “Your secret is safe with us, Augustus,” she whispered, as she leaned forward and touched the skin right beside the mole she’d positioned near her cleavage. “No one in town will hear about how you gained that deed—at least not from us!”
Belatedly, King seemed to remember who he was speaking to and darted a glare toward Jack. But Jack hadn’t spent the last six years in a royal court without learning some trickery of his own. His smile looked just as charming and at ease as he had at the ball all those months ago in Aegiria.
He was almost as good an actor as she was, because he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. He was sitting across from the man who’d stolen his inheritance, and he was calm. In control. She was impressed, and found herself studying him for signs he was ready to give himself over to the bloodlust demon.
Nothing. Maybe he’d listened to her after his last encounter with Stevens. He was composed and looked completely at home in the fine dining room.
He really did cut a dashing figure in his evening wear, didn’t he? The black did a beautiful job of setting off his icy blue eyes and pale hair. He’d chosen a blue waistcoat, which made him look more approachable than his all-black costume he wore when he was the Ace.
Approachable? No, he was gorgeous, and Tavie could stare at him for ages.
Whoa, girl. He’s supposed to be your brother-cousin.
The reminder of her screw-up right at the beginning—although she was proud of her cover story—had her flushing and turning back to King. He was staring at her, but she couldn’t read his expression. She cast about for something to distract him.
“More wine, Augustus?” She raised her hand to call the waiter. “I’ll ask for another—”
Three things happened at once. One, King leaned forward, likely to halt her action. Two, Jack jostled the table as he stood. And three, a man materialized over King’s shoulder, just as Tavie’s wineglass tipped toward King’s lap.
Stevens—because of course he’d show up tonight!—darted forward and caught the glass before it could cause damage to the silk of King’s waistcoat. The man was as cold as Tavie remembered, and did he just growl?
He did! He actually growled as he replaced the crystal carefully on the tablecloth and turned to Jack!
Who grinned sheepishly. “Sorry,” he offered. “Clumsy me, eh? I tend to jump to action too soon.”
Stevens, who was obviously remembering the way Jack had jumped on him outside this very restaurant last week, snarled at him. “You better work on that. Out here, that’ll get you killed.”
And Jack did his best impression of a drunken wobble when he lifted two fingers in salute. “I’ll keep that in mind, hombre.” He leaned forward a bit, bracing his knuckles against the tablecloth, as if he was too drunk to stand straight, and peered at the gunslinger. “Say, where’d you get that nasty scar?”
If Stevens thought it was a rude question, he didn’t let on. Instead, one long finger brushed against the scar, which stretched from cheekbone to ear, and he answered impassively, “A woman.”
She’d given him that scar, firing her derringer at close range when he’d woken up and found her going through his saddlebags in that whorehouse in Kansas City. She hadn’t been trying to kill him, and when she found the evidence she needed, she patched him up and called the doctor to the jail for him.
When he slowly turned that expressionless face her way, she swallowed.
Calm down. He can’t know you. You were dressed differently then. You were a different person then.
“Never underestimate a woman,” he growled at her.
Calm down calm down calm down.
The mantra wasn’t working.
King had seen her many times as Tavie Smothers, Ruth Hoyle’s mousy companion, and even he hadn’t realized she was the same woman sitting beside him now. But Stevens seemed to look straight through her.
Did he see the woman who’d stopped Jack’s attack on him last week? Did he see the whore who’d sat on his lap and pretended to care about him all those years ago? Or the detective who’d shot him, then had him arrested?
As King said something in agreement with his bodyguard, Tavie shot to her feet as well. “Sound advice, sir. And now…” She turned desperate eyes on Jack. “Perhaps, Augustus, you were right not to order more wine. Dear Johnny has had enough, I think.”
“Enough,” Jack agreed with a hiccup.
“Brother,” she said in a hard tone, as if she were used to commanding him. “You may escort me up to my room.”
King had risen to his feet when she did, and now pushed Stevens back from the table impatiently. “Dear Miss Nina, please allow me the honor?”
She smiled at him, but wasn’t sure she could manage the same flirtatious tone as prior to Stevens’s arrival. “Augustus, you flatter me!”
Instead of agreeing or disagreeing, she stepped toward the older man and allowed him to embrace her as if they were old friends, instead of new acquaintances. And with his hands on her bare shoulders, she even leaned in and kissed his cheek.
“I so enjoyed our evening, Augustus,” she murmured near his ear. “I have to be on the morning train to Salt Lake, but I’d love to return and…” She pulled out of his embrace just enough to shoot him a sultry look. “And renew our acquaintance before Johnny purchases the deed from you.”
He smiled like a cat playing with a mouse. “My lovely Nina, I shan’t be selling the deed to your brother any time soon. I like my life here, you see, and I positively adore the thought of giving you a reason to return.”
Damn.
Damn it to hell.
“Wonderful!” she trilled with a throaty laugh. “I look forward to seeing you next time.”
She only managed to extricate herself from his hold by trailing her hands down his arms and squeezing his hands intimately, before pulling away. Then, ignoring Stevens completely, she lifted her chin and reached for Jack.
“Come, brother dear. Let’s get you to bed.”
“Bed,” Jack mumbled, then laughed as if he’d made a joke. “Bed sounds lovely! And maybe more wine?”
He was doing an admirable job, and Tavie even managed to stagger under his weight a bit as he threw his arm around her shoulders. Once she was in his hold though, she could tell it was his way of offering her comfort. And Tavie wasn’t too proud to admit she needed it, needed his strength.
Still, she couldn’t make King suspicious. As they exited the dining room, she glanced apologetically over her shoulder at the villain, and was pleased to see him smiling at her.
Well, that mission went well.
When did her thoughts get so sarcastic?
In the hotel foyer, she moved to separate herself from Jack, but he just tightened his hold. And truth be told, she didn’t want to fight it very hard. But she had to make an effort.
“You can let go now, brother,” she whispered.
“Oh no, cousin,” he slurred in return. “I’m drunk. Walking you to my room, don’tchooknow.”
Tavie rolled her eyes just slightly, but as she turned them toward the main staircase, she was smiling. “I’m walking you to your room, you mean?”
“Or walking me to your room, hmm?” the exasperating man had the gall to say.
And heaven help her, she lost Nina Douglas entirely as she began to giggle.
8
“I can’t believe you made me break character!” she half-gasped, half-laughed as she threw herself against the inside of her hotel room door, bracing her back against it, as if King might come barreling up the stairs after them. “I never break character!”
Jack was curled up sideways on the bed, holding his stomach as his laughter subsided. With a long groan, he flopped over onto his back. “That was fun.” He lifted only his head and sent her that charming grin of his. “Fun. Does it always feel like this?”
Tavie took the time to fumble for the knob behind her, ensuring it was locked, before pushing away from the door
with a sigh. “Feel like you’re flying? Yeah.” She sighed. “Yeah, it’s fun.”
“He had no idea who you were! He couldn’t take his eyes off your chest long enough to look at your face!”
She shrugged. “Ruth’s companion is no more me than Nina Douglas is me. They’re all just roles.”
His head flopped back against the mattress until he was staring at the ceiling. “But your roles are part of you, you said. Or part of you in your roles. I forget. Maybe I have had too much wine.”
With a snort, she moved toward the dressing table and began to remove her earrings. “You had one glass.”
“Then why do I feel like…” He managed to shrug, while simultaneously rolling upright, pulling his legs up to lock his arms around his raised knees. “Flying is a good description. I feel like I can do anything.”
The second earring hit the bowl without her noticing. No, her attention was centered on the man in the mirror above the table. From here she could study him covertly, take in the way his gaze was focused on the door, as if reliving the dinner.
He looked…awed. Innocent, somehow.
And he was still waiting for her response.
“Well,” she began softly, as she unfastened the buttons at the wrist of the evening gloves, “that’s the thrill, the excitement. The feeling you can meet any challenge, can overcome anything. When I’ve fooled someone into thinking I’m a character, I feel that way.”
He managed to catch her eye in the mirror. “I feel that way when I fight.”
The confession caused her lips to tug down as she turned and propped her hip against the table. “Really? But when you fight…”
She lost track of what she was trying to say when the fourth button on her glove got really stubborn. She used it as an excuse to let her frown break free, her brow furrowing as she glared down at it.
Wild Card: Black Aces, Book Three Page 8
