9 Ways to Fall in Love

by Caroline Clemmons

  Most bridegrooms wouldn’t be playing poker on his wedding night, but he doubted Toulson, with his disregard for women, would have a care.

  He schooled his poker face and strode to his “wife,” still conjuring a way to protect her—from the woman-beater and from herself. After giving her a peck on the cheek, he sat between Toulson and Lexie.

  “Looks like a good game.” He smiled at each of the men. Alden gave him a nod, signaling that he was ready for Burke to get to work. Normally, he’d relish the job, but not with Lexie in the line of fire.

  He offered his hand to the gambler. “I’m Burke O’Shaughnessy. And you?”

  “Toulson. I’ve heard of you, O’Shaughnessy.” Toulson leaned back in his chair and took a long drag of his cigar. “The little lady’s doing pretty well.”

  Lexie held up her glass and giggled. “The little lady would like another glass of wine.”

  Damn and blast it, she was drunk. He signaled for the waiter to go away, but the overly attentive man, likely smitten with her—who wouldn’t be—had already started pouring her sherry.

  The waiter finally turned to Burke. “What could I get for you, sir?”

  “Whiskey, a cup of strong coffee, and a glass of milk.”

  “Want me to make that a bull shot, sir?”

  “No, thanks. Bring it all separately.” Burke hoped he could get Lexie to switch from sherry to milk, or maybe the coffee. Even more, he hoped she’d excuse herself and get the blue blazes out of his way.

  “I won some money!” She pointed at her pile. “I’m catching on.” She slouched as much as her corset would allow—he’d never seen her slouch before. “But you need to explain some details to me. Either the book was wrong or these gentlemen aren’t playing correctly.”

  Burke felt like slamming his head on the table but instead, he put his hand on her forearm. “Lexie-girl, why don’t you go upstairs. I’ll be up in an hour.”

  She shook her head, her movement more pronounced and less graceful than usual. “But I have a secret.” She pulled him close and whispered in his ear, “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met, and you make me feel rather odd sometimes. Most times.”

  Those same feelings washed through him when her breath caressed his neck, but he didn’t find them odd at all. Energizing, exhilarating, yearning—but not odd. He concentrated on retaining control of all his parts.

  The waiter brought his whiskey and just as he took a sip, Lexie whispered, “Could you recommend a book on the subject?”

  He snorted whiskey out his nose. When he finally got his breath, he said to the other players, “Would you mind if I took my bride upstairs? I won’t be long.”

  Waving him off, Lexie finished off her sherry. “I want to play again.” And then she pressed her sweet breasts against his arm as she leaned on him and whispered, “Mr. Toulson isn’t very good at betting.” She giggled.

  Burke groaned, warring between wanting to pull her closer, or to throw her over his shoulder and haul her sweet little carcass upstairs. Toulson knew exactly what he was doing—first he let her win until they started playing for high stakes, then, once he’d studied her reactions in previous hands, he’d have the advantage. Second she was drunk, and third, he’d whetted her appetite for winning.

  Burke planned to use a similar strategy on Toulson himself. Once he managed to get Lexie to safety, that is.

  “Please, Burke.”

  “You in?” Toulson tapped the deck on the table. “The lady wants to play.”

  “Of course he’s in,” she said, her jaw set and her lips pursed. He’d seen that look enough times to know she’d carry through whatever she set out to do. And in this case no result could be good.

  All odds were against her.

  “I’m in. What’s the ante?”

  “Ten bucks.” Lexie shoved her ten forward. “But I don’t have the ledger with me.”

  He tossed in a ten. “You can write it down after this hand. I’ll take you upstairs.”

  Lexie downed her sherry in two gulps and signaled the waiter for more. “This tastes better all the time.”

  They played the hand and Burke folded in the last round of betting, even though he had three of a kind. She won.

  But she wouldn’t leave so Dorsey won the next hand and Lexie pouted. Her poker face could use a little fine tuning. She held up her empty glass. When the waiter came by, Burke gave him the sign for “If you pour, I’ll break your arm.”

  The waiter cleared his throat. “Excuse me, ma’am. I brought the wrong pitcher.” He hightailed it back to the bar.

  “Darlin’, go upstairs now. I’ll join you in an hour.”

  Alden added, “At eleven o’clock, it’s gents only.”

  “Oh.” Lexie stared at the clock, closing one eye.

  Toulson glowered. “Let the girl stay.”

  “Out of the question,” Dorsey said. “If she’s allowed to stay, other ladies will want to come with their husbands. And believe me, men gamble a lot less when their wives are glaring at them.”

  “Oh, piffle. I’m ready for bed anyway.”

  Burke stood and helped Lexie to her feet. She wobbled a little bit, turned to face him, and planted her nose square in the middle of his chest.

  He wrapped his arms around her to hold her steady. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse us.”

  Toulson would have to wait.

  * * *

  Four flights of stairs. Burke had managed to get her up one flight but in the middle of the second, Lexie decided to sit down and chat. Luckily, few people used the stairs at such a late hour. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to see him carrying a lady’s handbag.

  “I’m tired,” she announced, her bonnet lopping to the side. “And I have to, um...”

  He knew what she had to do. No one could drink three glasses of milk and at least a half dozen glasses of wine and not need to. What goes in, must come out. But not on the stairs.

  “Stand up, Lexie-girl. I’ll help you.”

  “I rather like when you put your hand on my waist, but I’m not saying it.”

  He liked his hand there, too. Higher or lower would be even better. “You better be quiet about it, then.” He half-carried her to the landing.

  “I really must...”

  “I know. Put your arm around my shoulders and let’s try one more flight. We’re almost there.”

  “Did you know I dream about your shoulders sometimes?”

  No, he didn’t, but his confidence didn’t mind the stroke, either. Of course, he’d rather have her stroke something else.

  “Best keep climbing these stairs.” He lifted her over the next two risers to get to the third landing. “Only one more flight to go.”

  “Are you taking me to your room?”

  That was a good thought—it was about twenty feet closer and he sure wouldn’t mind having her in his bed. “All your things are in your room.”

  “Will you stay with me?”

  Good question. He needed to get back to the card room and help Alden corner Toulson. A bastard like that shouldn’t be roaming free. Then again, what red-blooded man could deny a willing woman as beautiful and smart as Lexie? “Let’s get you up these stairs before we talk about that.”

  “I gotta go.” Her blatant and urgent request dripped with desperation. He hoped that was all she dripped with.

  “Just a few more steps.” He was afraid to lift her, considering her state. She didn’t need any squeezing.

  Once they made it to the fourth floor, and none too soon, he whipped out his key and dashed to his door to unlock it. Her room would have to wait. He didn’t have the key and she might not be able to walk the extra steps to get there.

  With the door open, he sprinted back to her and guided her into his room, where he pulled out the chamber pot.

  “Do you need help?”

  “No.”

  He helped her anyway and plunked her on the pot. “I’ll step out into the hall for a minute.” And listen for a bo
dy crashing to the floor. On that thought, he paused. Her safety was more important than her dignity. “I’ll keep my back turned.”

  When she announced she was done, he said, “I’ll fetch you to your room now.” Her brief rest had helped because she was considerably more steady on her feet, and they reached her room unscathed.

  “Where’s your key?” He handed her handbag to her, figuring it was in there somewhere, but he wasn’t about to look. No man with a lick of sense ever ventured inside a lady’s purse.

  She pushed the handbag away and giggled. “It’s hidden.”

  He knew right where, too. “Dig it out, Lexie-girl.”

  “Can’t.”

  “Can’t?”

  “It slipped down. I have to take my corset off to find it.”

  At that moment, Burke knew he was going to rot in hell, because no man could retrieve that key without exploring the territory. That gave him a one hundred percent chance of losing his head and ravaging her on the spot.

  “We’ll have to go back to my room, unless you want me to undress you right here in the hall.”

  “No, silly.”

  Lexie swayed forward and hugged him, her breasts crushing against him. He held her tight, wanting to kiss her sweet lips and everything else right then and there. For the sake of expedience and propriety, he scooped her up, carried her back into his room, and tenderly lowered her to the bed.

  She rolled her eyes. “You can’t take a corset off while lying down.”

  “And I won’t take your corset off while the door is open.” He shut it and locked it. For a brief moment, he had a pang of guilt for abandoning Alden with Toulson, but so it had to be. He had to thoroughly examine Lexie to find that key, and no doubt if the situation had been reversed, Alden would’ve done the same. Any man on this earth would’ve done the same.

  The idea of Toulson with Lexie made him angry and sick at the same time. He shook it off and focused on his next task—removal of Lexie’s clothes.

  “Are you ready?”

  “For what?”

  “For me to find the key.”

  “Oh yes, that.” She grasped his hand and pulled herself to sitting. “I’ll stand and you can unbutton my dress.” She leaned into him and whispered, “But don’t look.”

  Burke could hardly wait to look. “How about I kiss you while I undo the buttons. Then you know I’m not looking.”

  “Good idea.”

  About a hundred or so tiny buttons held the closure at the back of her dress. This kiss would last about ten days, not that it would bother him any. “So kiss me.”

  When she touched her lips to his, it was all he could do to remember what those damned buttons were for. One button undone. He moved to the next button. She ran her hands down his back, still kissing him. Closed mouth. He touched the crease of her lips with his tongue, and when they parted, he wanted to hug her close. Naked.

  Another button undone. He kissed her earlobe and concentrated on making his fingers cooperate. Her shiver nearly undid him and he brushed his lips down her neck.

  “Oh, my.” Her hands found his butt. “You’re so hard.”

  Not half as hard as the front. He kissed the top of her breasts.

  She gasped and pushed into his mouth. This damned dress had to go.

  The kiss had to stop before he ripped her naked. “Turn around, Lexie-girl,” he growled. “It’ll be faster this way.”

  “But I rather like kissing. None of the books mentioned anything like this.”

  He put a hand on each shoulder and turned her around. “No, I don’t expect they would.”

  “But why not?”

  “Because words can’t show you the joy-fire that happens between a man and a woman. You have to find out for yourself.”

  “Field research?” She giggled. “Last time I went with my father to do field research, we caught butterflies. Now I think they’re fluttering around in my...eh—”

  She might have butterflies but he was hard and hot as a branding iron and ready to be inside her this instant. Even so, he’d never do anything that might cause his Lexie-girl harm or grief.

  It took forever but his normally nimble fingers, adept at sleight of hand tricks, finally managed to unfasten her dress. He whisked the skirt off and tossed it on the bureau. One tug of the tie and her petticoat pooled to the floor. He picked her up by the waist and kicked the petticoat out of the way, then set her at arm’s length.

  Gorgeous—she was more beautiful under every layer. His gaze feasted on her for a moment. “Now, for the corset.”

  “Loosen the laces in back, then unfasten the busque.” She turned around, the spinning made her wobble a bit but she grabbed his arms and clung to him. “Umm, field research. I like it.”

  “Want to kiss me again so I don’t peek?”

  “Oh, yes. I quite like kissing you.”

  He liked kissing her, too. A lot. More than he should. But guilt be damned—the second her lips touched his, a passionate haze settled over him and he forgot all about undoing her corset for the moment. He pulled her closer to him. She felt so good in his arms, as if she belonged there.

  She ended the kiss. “The key?”

  Alcohol fogged her brain, but she fogged his. “You’re right, we can’t kiss and get this corset off at the same time.” And he wanted that corset off.

  “I’m feeling a little woozy.” Her tongue slid over her lower lip and nearly undid him.

  Burke made quick work of loosening the laces, then busied himself unhooking the dozen fasteners in the front.

  She took a deep breath.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “You think so?”

  And then she puked all over him.

  * * *

  The clock struck midnight before Burke could get Lexie in bed and himself cleaned up. He stashed both keys in his vest pocket and headed down to the card room. With a little luck, Alden would still be in the game. Burke needed him for his strategy to work and Alden knew it.

  When he took his seat, he noted one addition, not all that welcome, either. Dayton Wardell. His cheek was bruised and his knuckles were scabbed up. Too bad he didn’t have the Indian salve. Burke had only a hint of a shiner, which couldn’t be seen in dim light, from Wardell’s attack. Burke would get him where it hurt most—in the money clip.

  Dorsey clapped Burke on the shoulder and grinned. “Newlywed bliss. I remember those days.” A veil flitted over his face. “I miss my Jenny.”

  Burke noted the hefty pile of money in front of him. Toulson was setting him up for a big fall. From the scowl on Toulson’s face, he’d probably hoped he could get the job done before Burke’s return.

  “Deal ‘em, Alden.”

  Alden was a fair hand at dealing square, no funny stuff. Toulson and Dorsey checked, Burke opened with queen high—not even a pair and no hope for a straight.

  Wardell folded. Must have a really bad hand because he was known for bluffing. Not well, either.

  “See,” said Alden. He didn’t have much money on the table and undoubtedly didn’t have a betting hand, but he was leaving the door open for Burke to work.

  “Raise.” Toulson threw in his money.

  Dorsey folded, which, Burke noted, didn’t make Toulson happy. He was probably hoping to get Dorsey to dig in this time. Might even fancy himself as a property owner. Alden didn’t have much money left, and Burke only had a couple hundred so not a lot to work with, but decided to stay in one more round.

  “See.” He shoved out sixty dollars.

  Burke kept a nine of hearts and an eight of clubs. “Three.”

  On a square deal, odds were low that he’d draw anything to bet on, which was just as well because he planned to fold anyway. Alden dealt him a pair of eights and a nine. Full house.

  Strategy be deuced. If Toulson thought this was a set up, he’d be expecting Burke to fold, so maybe he wouldn’t. He’d bet cautiously, though, and hoped that Toulson would call.

  The six-hundred-dollar po
t helped. Now he had the funds to lose when he needed to, because at the end of the night, neither Toulson nor Wardell would have a five-cent piece to their names.

  Much as he loved the hunt, he couldn’t get the image of Lexie standing before him in nothing but her chemise out of his mind. Never had a woman dominated his thoughts before, and certainly one never had interfered with his gambling.

  As the night wore on, the gaming room emptied, and near dawn, only the five of them were left playing, with a few observers standing around. Burke had poured most of his drinks in a receptacle under the table, but made a few awkward movements to lure Toulson into thinking he was drunk. Down to fifty bucks and eager to get back to his woman, Burke needed to be patient. Wardell and Toulson were cocky, Dorsey barely had enough to stay in, and Alden was now an observer, having lost every penny.

  Ready for the grand finale, Burke said, “Fellows, you might as well give me a chance to lose the rest of it, or at least go back to my lady with as much as I started with.”

  The deal belonged to Toulson, and he’d go in for the final kill. He’d palmed the red aces during the last game and those cards were still up his sleeve. The idiot should’ve known not to bring a lizard to a game with thoroughbred gamblers. A sharp with any competence at all could do better without a cheating device.

  Burke himself, for instance. He’d palmed the black aces. Just for insurance, Alden had kept Toulson’s whiskey glass full, and their fish showed signs that he was ready to be reeled in.

  With a wave to the waiter, Burke ordered another round of drinks.

  Alden shook off a refill. “I’ve had enough for one night.” He leaned back in his chair. “O’Shaughnessy, looks like you’ve had enough, too. Your bride might have something to say about that.”

  “Ah, my bride. One more drink won’t matter to her, one more round, either.” To Toulson, he said, “Deal ’em.”

  As Toulson dealt the first couple of cards, Burke spilled his drink, jumped up, staggering a bit for good effect, snagging the aces from Toulson’s sleeve and replacing them with a nine and a trey.

  “Pardon me.”

  “Clumsy oaf.”

  Burke hailed the waiter and sat. “You’d better re-deal.” Once the waiter had mopped up the mess, Toulson took the cards back and shuffled. Any thoroughbred would immediately know two cards were missing from the deck, but Toulson seemed blissfully unaware.