by Ruth Owen
“Please, drop the mister. Just call me Montana. And you haven’t finished your iced tea.”
“I’ve had enough, thank you.”
“But you haven’t given me a chance to get even.”
“Getting even,” she mused. “There is a certain amount of satisfaction in getting even.”
“I agree. Why don’t we talk about a rematch.”
“I don’t think so. But don’t worry—Montana—I’ll be back.” She glanced down at her chips and frowned. What was she supposed to do with them?
As if he understood her confusion, Montana raised his hand, beckoning to the dealer he’d replaced. “Just join me in my quarters while Royal cashes in your chips. He’ll bring your money.”
“No. I can’t. I’m meeting someone.”
At that, he frowned and glanced quickly at the door. “Where?”
“On the dock.”
He looked at his watch. “After one o’clock. I hope your date is patient—unless you plan to swim.”
Damn! She hadn’t thought about that. The boat left every night at midnight for a special journey upriver. A two-hour cruise had sounded just about right for her first foray into the world of gambling. She hadn’t expected to have everything go so smoothly.
She hadn’t worn her watch; her faithful Timex hadn’t matched her outfit. Now she tried to sound disinterested as she asked, “How long before we get back?”
“About half an hour,” he lied. The truth was closer to twenty minutes, depending on the current. He’d better work fast. Taking her by the arm, he started through the crowd. “Shall we?”
Katie shrugged off his grasp. “I’d really prefer a walk on deck away from all this smoke and noise.” She didn’t want to be alone with him, but she couldn’t afford to make him suspicious.
Katie always did her homework on any project she took on. She’d been told that women found Montana irresistible. And apparently, he treated them as he did his playing cards, shuffling them around at his whim and changing them frequently. Yes, she’d studied the man, but there were still many things about his everyday—every night—life that she didn’t know.
“A walk in the moonlight sounds delightful,” he said, allowing her to call the shots, this time.
Moments later she found herself leaning against the rail watching the dark waters of the Mississippi rush by. The lights of the businesses along the river twinkled in the darkness, and in the distance she could see a bridge. Overhead, a crescent moon hung precariously, looking too fragile to withstand the breeze that kicked up suddenly and flung dark clouds across its light.
“Looks like we’re going to have some rain,” Montana commented.
“Will it keep us from getting back on time?”
“It could.” Actually—though he wouldn’t tell her this—it could make their return even faster.
“Damn!”
“What’s the matter, are you afraid he’ll think you stood him up?”
“He?” Her alleged date was Cat, and Katie was pretty sure that if Cat could have planned the evening, she’d have gladly written this little episode right into the script. Cat thought it was time Katie discarded her books, her calculator, and her pained expression. A man like Montana would be just what a financial director and accountant like Kate needed.
“Your late date.”
The wind blowing across the waves turned cool and damp. “It looks like I’ll be the one doing the standing up.” She crossed her arms over her chest and shivered.
Montana slid his arms out of his jacket and draped it around Katie’s bare shoulders, using the collar he pulled up around her neck to turn her toward him.
She tried unsuccessfully to twist away. “No, you don’t have to do this. I’ll be fine.”
“You wouldn’t want to cool off your streak of luck, would you?”
Cool off was exactly what she needed to do. How could she have miscalculated so badly? She’d been so intent on getting on board and attracting Montana’s attention that she never considered she might need to leave quickly. Her plan to win big and disappear into the night was not to be. A few hours of bravado was about all she could handle. Now she was trapped by the very man she wanted to leave intrigued while she got ready for her next attack.
“Guess you’ll be my guest for a while longer, whether you want to be or not. If you’ve had enough blackjack, we could share a late supper.”
“No, I’m not hungry. I mean I told you … I came here to gamble.”
“That’s right, you said you wanted to win a lot of money. Maybe you’d like to change the game to one with higher stakes. What about a few private hands of poker?”
That was exactly what she’d had in mind. But now Katie didn’t like the look in Montana’s eyes. She’d seen it before. The last time she’d been invited to play poker, she’d been fifteen and her opponent had been a sixteen-year-old with more polish than a queen’s silver. If it hadn’t been for her younger brother, Carson, she might have lost more than her clothes. When Carson discovered them in the gazebo by the river, he’d defended his sister’s honor with his fists. Carson lost the fight and Katie lost her poker-playing admirer.
That had been Katie’s first, but it hadn’t been her last high-stakes game. Back then, she’d learned not to let herself be lulled into agreement by pretty words and a challenge, and later, when she’d learned she had an uncanny ability to count the cards, she’d taught Carson to play poker and had beaten him routinely.
Tonight had been meant as a trial run, a warm-up for the big event. But it looked as if fate had taken a hand. She couldn’t leave the boat, and Montana was inviting her to up the stakes. So her timetable had changed. She’d move to the next stage of her assault, make her strike tonight … and disappear.
She had no choice. Fate had dealt the cards.
Her answer had to be, “Yes.”
The Mississippi River gambler neither nodded nor smiled. Instead he used a more disarming means of sealing their agreement.
He kissed her.
