Page 26 of The Devil's Pawn

She squares her shoulders. “I’m ready.”

I show her my palm. “First move to the lady.”

In five moves, I’ve beaten her.

She folds her arms, her jaw set into a locked position. “Ugh. I’m terrible at this game.”

I reset the board. “How can you possibly expect to be proficient at something when it’s your first time?”

“Hmm. That’s a record, surely? Five moves?”

I shake my head. “Checkmate can occur in two moves,although it’s rare to achieve that, even when your opponent is a complete novice.”

She puts the pieces back in their starting positions without getting any wrong. She’s a fast learner. Depending on how long it takes to force her into asking me for a divorce, she may become a useful opponent. I can still isolate her from everyone else without denying myself the chance to play the game I love more often.

“I want another chance.”

“Ready when you are.”

We play five games, and she loses each one, although to her credit, she never makes the same mistake twice. Nor does she pout or flounce off in a fit of anger. No, she does something far more impressive.

“Does this phone let me make purchases online?” She brandishes the phone I replaced hers with.

“Yes, of course. It’s an actual phone, Imogen. It has some additional security layered in, that’s all. What is it you want to buy?”

“A book on how to play chess, so I can beat your ass and wipe that smug smirk off your face.”

I swallow a chuckle, keeping my expression schooled. “I am neither smug nor smirking.”

“No? Must be gas.”

She climbs to her feet while I do my best to hide how much her attitude delights me. I can't let her know that—give her an inch, and she might take a mile, or worse, run right over me. Yet she's so refreshing. Maybe it's her youth, but her fire and enthusiasm for learning have piqued my interest. This in itself sets off alarm bells. The contrast between enjoying our time together and fearing the influence she might have on meis unsettling.

“Here.” I reach into my pocket and remove my wallet, taking out the first credit card I come across. This one doesn’t have a limit, but I doubt Imogen plans to go crazy.

“I don’t need your money. I have my own.”

“No, you don’t. It isn’t your parents’ responsibility to support you any longer.” I hold out the credit card. “Take the card, Imogen. You’re my responsibility now, not your father’s.”

I meant it in a positive way. Unfortunately, she doesn’t take it as such.

“I’m sorry I’m such aburden.” Snatching the card out of my hand, she sweeps from the room. Her scent lingers long after she’s gone, and like a drug addict, I close my eyes and let it saturate me.

Yes. Trouble indeed.

Chapter Ten

IMOGEN

Our car draws to a halt in front of Oakleigh’s impressive entranceway, and Douglas switches off the engine and climbs out. I heave a sigh. Home sweet home. Honeymoon over, although describing it as such is false considering there’s nothing “honey” about my husband, nor am I over the “moon” at being married.

Funnily enough, though, I saw a different side to him when we played chess. I wouldn’t call it excitement, but he was much more animated and vocal. We played twice more after my initial introduction, and while he’s still whooping my ass far too often for my liking, the book I ordered should be here by now, meaning I can start to study the game. Once I learn the strategy, I can outmaneuver him on the chessboard—and in life.

My door opens, and I exit the vehicle. I’m about to walk into the house when Alexander captures my elbow, stopping me.

“How’s your daughter doing, Douglas?”

I do a double take. Alexander doesn’t participate in smalltalk. Not that I’ve witnessed, anyway.

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