Rake Most Likely to Seduce

by Bronwyn Scott

  Nolan nodded. ‘I’m here for the woman.’

  The innkeeper jerked his head, indicating the direction of the parlour. Nolan flipped him a coin. ‘By chance, is there a deck of cards in there?’

  ‘In the drawer of the sideboard.’ The innkeeper looked at him sceptically. Nolan kept walking. It was better not to give the man a chance to ask questions. If he was lucky he’d be out of there before an explanation would be worth the effort. Besides, how did he explain this anyway? He tried it out in his mind: a covetous count has kidnapped a woman I met only a week ago. I am madly in love with her, but the count wants her diamonds. Ah, no. He wasn’t going to be explaining that to anyone any time soon. He could already see Brennan rolling his eyes.

  He was just outside the parlour door when he heard Gianna scream. There were sounds of a struggle. ‘You take your hands off me!’

  Knife in his right hand, gun in the left, Nolan kicked the door open, his eyes rapidly scanning the room. Gianna was forced against the table, the count wrestling violently with her skirts. On his periphery, a form moved, agile and fast. Lippi thought to take him unawares. Nolan turned with lightning reflexes. He didn’t think, he just threw. The knife took Romano Lippi in the throat.

  Now he had the count’s attention. ‘Romano!’ the count cried, but he was too cagey to let Gianna go. He pulled her in front of him. ‘You’ve killed him!’ he snarled, his own blade at Gianna’s throat.

  ‘You took something of mine. I’ve taken something of yours. Quid pro quo, I believe. We’re even,’ Nolan said with a coolness he didn’t feel. The odds were even now, sort of. It was one on one, but the count had a weapon that worked. He trained the empty gun on the count, scanning the room for Giovanni. Nolan spotted him, tied to a chair by the fireplace.

  ‘I’m here, Giovanni,’ Nolan called out, his gaze now fixed on the count. ‘I’m over by the door. I have a gun on the count. I’ll come to you when I can.’

  ‘Do you really think so, Englishman?’ the count snarled.

  ‘Yes, I do.’ Time for the bluff of the century. ‘We can either stand here at an impasse or until I shoot you. I am a crack shot, by the way. You aren’t going to harm her, not without the diamonds.’ Nolan watched the count’s eyes flicker in surprise. He grinned. ‘I know about them, so you see, I know you’re bluffing with the knife. I’d say I have you at a disadvantage. You can’t win this showdown. But perhaps there is a showdown you can win.’

  ‘She’s my ward. You do not set the grounds for negotiation,’ Minotti countered, but Nolan could see the interest growing in his eyes. Nolan had to reel him in carefully now, get him to take the bait.

  ‘She’s mine. I won her in a card game,’ Nolan replied casually. ‘You lost her. I’d much rather give you a chance to win her back than shoot you.’ Bite, damn you. Take the bait. ‘You’re a fair gambler. You simply had a run of bad luck.’

  ‘What do you propose?’

  ‘We settle this like gentlemen. I have no interest in shooting you. I just want Gianna.’ He passed a long look over her form. He had to make the count believe whatever lay between he and Gianna was purely lust. If the count suspected there was any sentiment between them, Nolan would lose his slim edge. ‘She’s a treat in bed.’ He saw Gianna stiffen. He was going to pay for that when they got out of here. But he’d pay any price, whatever it took, to free her from the count. He could not look at her too long, could not show any but the most carnal of interests in her. He stared at the count. ‘Cards. Best two out of three. You once asked me for a chance to win her back—here it is.’

  * * *

  Good Lord! He couldn’t be serious! Gianna watched in appalled amazement as the table was set for cards, a deck produced from the sideboard drawer. Nolan barely paid her any attention. She was going to kill him for the comment about bed. The only sign it was an act was the slightest lingering of his hand at her elbow as he encouraged her to sit at the table between him and the count. After all this, her fate was going to come down to three hands of cards, much as it had begun.

  ‘Vingt-et-un,’ Nolan said, shuffling the deck with elegant competence and fanning it out on the table face up for inspection. ‘The highest hand without going over twenty-one wins.’ He paused. ‘I want the boy to deal. He’s blind. He can’t possibly do anything questionable to the deck.’

  Gianna untied her brother and brought him to the table. Now, Giovanni would be free, it would make an escape possible.

  She wanted to focus on Nolan, but she didn’t dare to stare. She wished she could look at his eyes and see reassurance in them. As it was, all she could do was look at his hands as he studied the cards, one card face down to each of them. Nolan appeared so relaxed, so in control as if it were just another game, one in which her life was not at stake. Surely Nolan realised the count had no intention of letting her go. Once he had the diamonds he would have no more use for her.

  The count showed a ten. Nolan showed a nine. The count did not ask for another card. Nolan took one more and grimaced. Real or feigned? she wondered. Nolan flipped over his cards—a three and a queen. Twenty-two. His hand was bust. The count grinned confidently, showing a king with the ten for twenty.

  Nolan merely smiled and swept the cards aside. He slid the deck across the table to Giovanni. To the count he said, ‘You’re up one. One more hand and she’s all yours.’ He tapped his fingers on the table, irritatingly nonchalant. ‘How about we throw the boy in for good measure? After all, I did go to a lot of effort getting him out and the odds are in your favour, I think. I’ve to win it all now and you only have to have half of the remaining hands.’

  Oh, he was good. He had Giovanni free of the chair and now he had the count exactly where he apparently wanted him. Gianna watched the count’s ego fairly inflate right in front of her. But it was one thing to stroke the man’s ego, it was another to win. Had Nolan lost the first hand on purpose? What had he said? That losing could be beneficial? She hoped that was the case here, but she had no way of knowing.

  Giovanni dealt. Nolan showed an eight. The count showed a six. The count’s brow furrowed. Nolan’s face was expressionless. The count called for another card and then another. He shook his head. Nolan didn’t take another. Nolan turned his over. ‘Eighteen.’

  ‘Fifteen.’ The count shoved the cards away with disgust, and Gianna breathed easier until she realised the next hand decided everything. Giovanni dealt carefully. Fourteen cards gone. She couldn’t necessarily name them, but Nolan could. Behind those grey eyes, he was counting. Although it occurred to her as Giovanni dealt the last hand, that counting didn’t ensure you won, it only gave you more control over your chances. That control grew the deeper into the deck you got. Were they deep enough to minimise another’s luck?

  ‘Last hand, everything up?’ Nolan asked. The count agreed, his hand tapping nervously on the table.

  Giovanni dealt. A two to the count and a king for an ominous twelve. A four and a three to Nolan. Neither hand was strong. Both of them would have to draw cards. If the count chose not to draw, all Nolan had to do was a draw five or better. Even she could see that his chances of doing so were high. Already, several small cards had been played. But the count could go bust. A face card or a ten would destroy him.

  ‘One card,’ the count asked. Giovanni slipped him a card and Gianna’s heart sank. A four. Sixteen. Not very good, but enough.

  ‘Another?’ Nolan suggested.

  The count thought for a moment. ‘No, I stand with this.’ Gianna tensed. It was up to Nolan now.

  Nolan took a card, a three. The count swore. ‘I should have taken it. I would have nineteen.’

  ‘I have ten. I will take another.’ Gianna prayed for a six or higher. Giovanni slid the card to Nolan and Nolan turned it over. A seven. Gianna slumped with relief. It was over.

  It was not over. The count lunged for Nolan from across the table. Gi
anna ran for Giovanni, dragging him out of the way. She’d been foolish to think the count would have abided by the rules. But Nolan was ready for him, a right hook taking him across the jaw. She saw the count’s neck snap back, saw his big body stagger. He went down, his head catching on the brick hearth of the fireplace behind them with a thud.

  ‘Dammit!’ Nolan raced to his fallen form, checking for the damage. He rocked back on his heels, his shoulders relaxing. ‘He’s alive. But he’s going to have a hell of a headache when he wakes up.’

  ‘Let’s go, then.’ She wanted to forget this place with the dead man in the corner, the count unconscious, the horrid card game. But Nolan seemed in no hurry. ‘Please, let’s go. He’s going to be angry.’ She wanted to be miles away when that happened.

  Nolan grinned. ‘It will be a while before he wakes up. We have time. No more getaways. For once, I just want to walk out of a place.’ He stopped and patted his coat pocket. ‘I have something for you.’ He handed her a brown velvet box, and her heart raced. ‘I believe you dropped these.’

  ‘You found them,’ she said quietly, reverently. ‘Giovanni, he found he diamonds. We won’t have to live in poverty.’ But they would have to live on the run. Today had shown her that and it had shown her how inadequate she was for the task. It had shown her something else, too. She had a treasure worth more than diamonds standing in front of her.

  ‘You left my bed. I didn’t like it,’ Nolan said tersely.

  ‘To keep you safe,’ she answered. ‘You see how it will be. You saved us today, but it doesn’t solve anything. The count will recover and he’ll come after us. Is that marriage proposal still on the table or have you rethought it?’ She wouldn’t blame him.

  Nolan’s eyes went dark. ‘It’s still on the table.’ He was trying to guess where this was headed. ‘I’ll take you to England.’

  ‘Will you want me without the diamonds? If I am empty-handed? I think that’s the only way I can come to you.’ She didn’t want the diamonds between them. She moved into him, a hand going to his cheek. ‘I don’t want you to ever doubt the reasons I am marrying you. I want to make it clear that I am marrying you not for safety or out of desperation.’

  A smile played on his mouth. ‘Then why?’ He was going to make her say it.

  ‘Because I love you and I will still love you even when there isn’t anyone chasing us, even when our lives are, dare I say, normal?’ She dropped the box on the floor with a thud. For once, Nolan looked amazed. A week ago, she would have been amazed, too. ‘I’ve spent five years protecting that treasure. I want to spend the rest of my life protecting the one I’ve found with you.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Let me show you.’ Gianna reached up, arms about his neck, feeling his hands go about her waist as she kissed him. ‘I was so afraid I wouldn’t get to do that again, when they found us on the road...’ Nolan’s finger pressed against her lips.

  ‘Don’t think about it. You will never be in danger again. Not as long as I am with you.’

  ‘I know.’ She kissed him again.

  Giovanni coughed. ‘I am still here. I know I can’t see, but I get the general gist of what’s going on.’

  Gianna moved to her brother’s side, and Nolan held open the door. If the innkeeper had comments to make about what had happened in that room, he wisely kept it to himself. Outside, the horses were waiting. Nolan had been anticipating a quick departure. So had she. She’d never dreamed she’d be departing in such a leisurely fashion, or even if she’d be departing. She knew very well she could have died in that room and no one would have been the wiser.

  ‘I do have one question,’ she said as they turned out on to the road, Giovanni safely riding behind Nolan. ‘Why didn’t you just shoot him?’

  Nolan laughed. ‘You’re a bloodthirsty wench at heart, Gianna.’

  ‘Seriously, if you thought the count wouldn’t abide by the rules, why play him at all?’ She looked over at Nolan, surprised to see his expression sober.

  ‘Because my gun was empty. I have no bullets to reload it with.’

  ‘You threatened the count with an empty gun?’ She tightened her grip on the reins, the enormity of what he’d done sweeping over her. ‘You came after me with only your knife? The count could have killed you.’ He’d been essentially unarmed after he’d taken Romano Lippi. ‘Why would you do that?’

  Nolan laughed. ‘Do you really not know? Because everything I love was in that room, Gianna.’

  ‘And everything I love is on the back of that horse.’ She tossed him a coy smile. Tonight she was going to show him just how much, and then again tomorrow night and the night after that. She tossed her head, letting her happiness swamp her. She was just starting to realise how free she was. Love didn’t make her dependent, it made her happy. It made her complete. In her stubbornness, she’d nearly missed it. The life she’d been dreaming of was beginning right now and it was off to a good start. She had the clothes on her back and Nolan Gray beside her. What else did she need? The answer was nothing.

  Epilogue

  Verona

  ‘Do you have the ring?’ Nolan nervously asked Brennan, shifting from foot to foot in front of the church. San Lorenzo, he thought was its name. There were a lot of churches in Verona. It didn’t matter. Any church would do. What mattered was the woman coming slowly down the long aisle towards him on her brother’s arm in a gown of soft lavender chiffon, a bouquet of tiny white flowers in her hands.

  ‘Yes, this is the tenth time you’ve asked.’ Brennan was surly. ‘What? Am I four? Do you think I’m going to lose it between the inn and here? I managed to get all of your luggage here from Venice. I can handle getting one tiny ring three streets.’

  Nolan had to give Brennan credit. When he had written a week ago, Brennan had wasted no time packing up the hotel room and meeting him in Verona.

  He and Gianna and Giovanni had taken rooms in town and waited. They’d waited for a lot of things in the past week. They’d waited for Bren to arrive with their things, they’d waited for the marriage licence to be approved. The priest hadn’t been entirely pleased. Nolan wasn’t Catholic and Lent began tomorrow. The priest had been eager to point out no one married during Lent. But Nolan was absolutely not waiting forty days more to marry her. He was quick to make a large donation to the bell tower fund. It seemed to have done the trick.

  The week had been a holiday of sorts, Gianna experiencing true freedom for the first time, but also there’d been worry to dispel. He knew Gianna felt it was too good to be true, that something would happen to burst the bubble of their happiness. It had taken a week for her to be convinced the count hadn’t and wouldn’t follow them. The count had the diamonds, but Nolan was convinced he’d got the better end of the deal.

  ‘Our weddings seem to get smaller and smaller.’ Brennan whispered as Gianna approached. There was no one here, just a witness the priest had cornered at the last minute, a young woman who worked at the inn.

  ‘The people who matter are here.’ Nolan stepped forward and took Gianna’s hand from Giovanni. He supposed he, too, was worried the dream would end. When he’d set out from Dover last year, he’d not imagined his Grand Tour ending with a wife, or even ending. He’d been the one with nothing but time.

  He lifted her lacy veil. ‘You are beautiful,’ he whispered, kissing Gianna on the cheek.

  She laughed up at him, sliding a sideways glance at the priest. ‘That comes later. You’re upsetting the priest.’

  Nolan arched an eyebrow. ‘For what I paid him, he can marry us naked.’ But he did sober when the priest starting speaking. He was only getting married once, he wanted to remember every moment of it. And he did; he committed to his formidable memory the way she looked in her gown, the way her dark hair caught the sunlight, the way her pearl necklace lay against her throat, the smell of her flowers, the tre
mor in her voice when she said her vows, the way her hand trembled when he slid the slim gold band on it, the way her body, her mouth, leaned into his as if they truly had become one. The priest pronounced them man and wife and it was over. Brennan clapped him on the back. ‘Let’s get some food before you go.’

  * * *

  Back at the inn a wedding breakfast waited for them, but Nolan was already wondering if they could just skip straight to the wedding night. He wanted his bride naked beneath him. But that would have to wait. They were leaving that day, eager to get on the road. They would spend their wedding night in an inn and several more nights after that.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to come?’ Nolan asked Brennan after champagne toasts had been drunk. He felt bad leaving Brennan behind.

  ‘On your honeymoon?’ Brennan raised his auburn brows in mock incredulity. ‘I should think not.’

  Nolan shrugged and played a straight face. ‘Why not?’ he joked. ‘Giovanni is coming.’

  Brennan chuckled. ‘No, thanks. I’m not ready to leave. Tell Haviland and Alyssandra hello from me.’ Nolan and Gianna had decided to go home overland via Paris. With the threat of the count gone, they could take their time, perhaps stop in the Alps and revisit Nolan’s favourite spots from the summer before. The clean alpine air would be good for Giovanni and there was no rush. They would stop in Paris before heading home.

  Nolan looked at his bride. ‘I never thought it would be me going home first. But I’m glad it is.’ He knocked his glass against hers. ‘If I was a betting man, which I am, I would have wagered on Archer or Haviland. It’s a bet I am glad to lose.’ Sometimes there were better things to count than cards, like his blessings. He was leaving Europe and it was a grand getaway indeed.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from SCOUNDREL OF DUNBOROUGH by Margaret Moore.