Page 1 of Gambler's Conceit

ONE

SEVEN

Out of all theplaces to be hitchhiking, I’ve probably chosen the worst.

The sun is high in the sky, just a little after noon. The soles of my boots aren’t thick enough to protect against the heat from the asphalt. My last water bottle is getting dangerously close to empty.

I glance down the long highway road in both directions. Mountains on both ends, but I have no idea which one is closer to civilization.

“What do you think, Nacho?” I ask, hefting him a little higher. He butts his head against my jaw and keeps purring, oblivious to how precarious our situation is.

Of course, he’s the reason we’re out here in the first place. The last trucker freaked when he found out there was a cat in my backpack, and he made me get out immediately, never mind that we’re in the middle of the fucking desert and he potentially condemned us to death via dehydration, exposure, or both.

At least I’ve got a hat and a light jacket, but I’m not managing to walk however many miles to the next truck stop.

I need a goddamn miracle.

I glance back the way we came again, and I wish I’d waited the few days for the next long-haul bus. But my gut was getting antsy staying in one place for so long, and a free ride was better than using up my meager—stolen—funds on a bus ticket.

My eyes widen when I spot an SUV coming our way. It’s the first car I’ve seen in over an hour. The previous two hadn’t stopped for me, and the one before that had slowed down, opened the window to look at me, and scoffed.

“Thought you were a chick,” the guy had said before driving off again.

“I would have blown him in exchange for a ride,” I tell Nacho. “Probably better than any woman stupid enough to hitchhike out in the desert.” I look in the direction of the SUV again. “Let’s see if this person wants me to blow them.”

I put Nacho back into my backpack—and he meows pitifully but doesn’t attempt to jump out. I leave the top open so he can stick his head out if he wants. After I’ve got him secure on my back, I walk in the direction of the SUV, my thumb out in the universal “please, please stop” signal.

It takes longer than I thought for the SUV to reach me. That’s the problem with these desert roads. They’re so flat, and the air is so clear, that you can see for miles and it’s damn near impossible to estimate just how far anything is.

The SUV slows down, and I sigh in relief. Whoever it is, whatever they want, I’ll give it to them. I just need to get out of here.

The back window rolls down. A handsome man, late thirties, leans out. His brown hair is brushed back, he’s only got a hint of scruff, and his expression is cold. He’s also wearing a suit, and I’m not sure if that’s good or bad news.

“Hiking in the desert is a bad idea,” the man says.

I fight not to scowl at him. Of course it’s a bad idea. It’s tantamount to suicide. I’m not stupid.

But I smile prettily at him, tilting my head in my best impersonation of someone too stupid to understand the implications of what I’ve done. “Gosh, ain’t that the truth,” I say with a laugh. “It sounded like a good idea in theory, though!”

The man’s eyebrows rise, and I can feel the disdain radiating off him from just that one gesture.

“I’ll give you a lift…” His eyes rake over me. “But it won’t be free.”

I bat my eyelashes at him. “Sure. What’s your price, handsome?”

He lets out a small chuckle. “That easy?” He opens the door for me though, and slides away so I have space to enter.

“That easy,” I confirm, sliding into the car with him. I wipe away the sweat from my brow, wishing I was clean and free of dust and grime. But it’s been a long walk, and I hadn’t been able to take a shower at the last truck stop.

I force those thoughts away, which is easier than expected because Nacho decides to announce his presence with a mighty meow that belies his kitten status.

“Stowaway,” I explain blithely.

Nacho pokes his head out of my backpack.

The man must be surprised to see him. For several seconds, he just stares at the cat.

“Boss?” the driver asks. “Everything fine?”

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