Page 49 of The Raven and the Rose
“Name it, love.”
She ignored the endearment. “Your stallion has covered your only decent mare, and my Zeus has one of my mares in foal. I’ll put my colt up against yours.”
He watched her lovely lips as she concentrated on the play, doubling, and making point after point. He wanted the taste of her in his mouth; he wanted the feel of her beneath his body. He sipped his wine, knowing it did nothing to cool his hot blood. She was flushed with her victories and looked him directly in the eyes. “This time shall we play for the truth, my lord?”
“By that I suppose you mean the winner asks the loser a question and is entitled to the truth?”
“You take my meaning exactly, my lord.” She drained her mead and recklessly asked for some of his wine. Roger once more allowed her to win the gammon. Her eyes sparkled. “Now you will tell me exactly what happened when I came to the hunting lodge,” she said triumphantly.
He loved to watch her face; it was so expressive. She had a way of raising her delicate brows, and the light of challenge in her clear gray eyes pierced his, and he saw the color change from gray to amethyst. The fire reflected one side of her cheek and caught sable highlights in her magnificent hair. Best of all was her mouth. As her name implied, it was deep velvet rose. Full, as if it were swollen by too many passionate kisses. It was shaped to give a man pleasure, whether he was looking at it or tasting it.
“I asked you a question,” she said, and he recalled what she had asked as he came out of his reverie. Of course he had no intention of telling her she had been rolled naked from a carpet in front of everyone present, so he passed over that bit and replied, “After Tristan gave you a sleeping draught, he put you in my bed as a delightful surprise for me. You know what a young devil he is,” added Ravenspur.
“When you found me naked in your bed, what did you do to me? And remember, I want the truth!”
His eyes glowed with the remembrance. “Well first, naturally, I had a damned good look at you.”
Her cheeks flamed their shame, and she choked angrily. “How could you be so disgusting?”
“Roseanna, there was nothing disgusting about it. You were the loveliest maid who had ever graced my bed. I would have had to be deranged not to look my fill.”
“Then what did you do?” she demanded fiercely.
“I got into bed and took you in my arms.”
She glared at him and waited for him to go on.
“I began to kiss you and caress you,” he continued.
“How dared you!” she spat. “Tell me, did you take further advantage of me?”
“No, Roseanna, I did not. I found kissing your unresponsive mouth too frustrating and unsatisfying. I decided to wait until morning when you awoke. At which time I admit I had every intention of making love to you until I discovered you were my betrothed and a virgin.”
“I’m no virgin! I’ve had at least three lovers—aye, and I wish it were a hundred and three!” she threw at him.
He reached his hand across the gameboard and put his finger beneath her chin. “Roseanna, when dealing with an adversary, never lose your temper or you lose the advantage,” he advised.
“Are you my adversary?” she flared.
“I am not. However, you insist on casting me in that role.” His gaze licked over her like the tongue of a flame; she lowered her eyes quickly lest he see her involuntary response to him.
He asked lazily, “Why don’t we be reckless and play for something we really want?”
“What do I really want?” she challenged him.
“The manor and lands in Drogheda to raise your infernal horses.”
She laughed because he knew her so well. She felt lucky and knew the desired prize was only a few throws of the dice away. He was a reckless man, indeed, to gamble such a prize.
“If you lose,” he said, “I claim you spend one night with me.”
“Only one?” she taunted. “I hope your skill in bed surpasses your skill at backgammon.” He cocked his eyebrow, and she cried recklessly, “Done!”
She took the dice and rattled them hard, her head filled with visions of Ireland. For the first time he rolled a higher number, allowing himself the first turn. He rolled many doubles, while her dice came up unbelievably low. He made his points and moved his stones to his inner table so rapidly that she blinked in amazement. Ravenspur was unperturbed and played so well that she began to suspect he had purposely allowed her to win up to now. He had deliberately tricked her into lowering her guard so she would fall into his trap! Her cheeks flamed with anger. She was determined that he would not beat her. She concentrated hard, but the doubling cube was already up to thirty-two in his favor, and she realized wildly that there was no way for her to win the game.
“Oh!” she cried and stood up quickly, upsetting the board and scattering the stones into the hearth. For a moment he looked at her in disbelief. “The dog brushed against my leg and startled me!” she exclaimed. The dog had been lying at Roger’s feet until the upset; then it quickly departed the line of battle. She said breathlessly, “Oh dear, now we shall never know who would have won the game.”
He towered over her, angry with himself for not realizing she would cheat to get her own way. He gripped her by the shoulders and said, “Roseanna, we both know who won the game.”
