The Bride Price

by Ginna Gray

  Before he could retort, she fanned out her cards, looked them over and refolded them. Coolly, she took five blue chips from her stack and pushed them into the center of the table. “I’ll see your fifty, and...” She pushed out another five chips. “I’ll raise you fifty.” Bold as brass, she looked straight at Snake and flashed a cocky grin.

  Standing behind Maggie, Wyatt watched as she took hand after hand. He wanted to snatched her up and shake her and demand to know the terms of her bet with these loathsome creatures, but he didn’t dare do anything to distract her from the game. Especially since he had a gut feeling a great deal was riding on the outcome.

  The next hour was torture for him. He should have known that Maggie would play poker the same way she did everything else—with reckless abandon and panache and the boldness of a shyster preacher at a tent revival.

  He had to admit, for the most part she had phenomenal luck with cards. Consistently she was either dealt a winning hand or she drew exactly the cards she needed. The occasional bust hand was no obstacle for Maggie, either. With amazement and horror, he watched her bluff her way to a win with a pair of deuces. And Wyatt’s heart nearly stopped when she drew to an inside straight and made it. He wondered if the words caution or conservative were even in Maggie’s vocabulary.

  After what seemed like forever Maggie had most of the chips in front of her and everyone had dropped out of the game but her and Snake. She dealt them both five cards, then picked up hers. The bottom one was the seven of clubs. Slowly she fanned out the rest with her thumb. The jack of diamonds appeared next, followed by the seven of diamonds and the four of spades. Sweating bullets, Wyatt held his breath.

  Air escaped his lungs in a long hiss as the seven of hearts emerged from behind the four.

  Three of a kind. Not a bad hand. Not the best in the world, but a possible winner. Hope fluttered in his chest until he glanced across the table at Snake.

  The man fancied himself a card shark, but every thought registered on his face. At that moment the biker was staring at his hand with his one good eye about to bug right out of his head. He practically vibrated with suppressed excitement.

  This time he did not even try for a poker face. Smug triumph radiated from him as he looked up at Maggie. “I’ll play these.”

  If his supreme confidence rattled her it didn’t show. “Dealer takes two,” she said calmly, discarding the jack and the four from her hand and dealing herself two more cards.

  She added them to the three she held and picked up all five. Wyatt shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his heart pounding as he craned his neck to see over her shoulder. She fanned out the three sevens. The ten of clubs came next. Then, with excruciating slowness, the seven of spades.

  Wyatt had to grit his teeth to keep from shouting. Four of a kind! The luck of the Irish had shone on Margaret Mary Muldoon again. Unless Snake held a higher four, the hand and the game was Maggie’s.

  “I bet fifty.” Snake shoved his chips into the center of the table and took a swig of beer. After a loud belch, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked around at his buddies with a gloating sneer.

  Uneasiness crept into Wyatt’s chest. Holy hell, what if this cretin really could beat her? What had Maggie bet?

  She smiled. “I tell you what, Snake. I’m getting tired. So why don’t we make this interesting and play winner take all. I’ll bet all I have against what you’ve got.”

  Snake’s greedy little eye zeroed in on the stacks of chips in front of Maggie. She had easily five times what he had. “You serious?”

  “Perfectly.”

  He chuckled, a raspy sound that had Wyatt’s stomach doing flip-flops.

  The smug look Snake sent Kong and the other gang members reeked contempt. “I always did say women was only fit for one thing.” A chorus of snickers and raucous comments erupted all around.

  Snake shoved his winnings to the middle of the table. “Read ‘um and weep, woman,” he jeered, and slapped down his hand, faceup. “I got me a flush.”

  “Hmm. So you do. Very nice.” Maggie smiled sweetly and laid her hand down. “But I’m afraid four of a kind beats it.”

  Snake’s face fell. His slack-jawed look would have been humorous if it hadn’t been for the sudden leap of rage in his eyes when he looked from the cards to Maggie. “Why you—”

  Kong clamped a meaty hand on Snake’s shoulder and grabbed a fistful of leather jacket, lifting him out of his chair. “Can it, Snake. You lost. Irish won. That’s the end of it.”

  “But—”

  Kong bared his teeth. “I said let it go. We don’t renege on a gambling bet. She won, and that means we ride. That was our deal. Now shut up and get on your bike.” He shook the smaller man as though he were a dog and shoved him toward where some members of the gang were already mounting their Harleys. Stumbling away, Snake shot several sullen glances over his shoulder, but he went.

  Kong turned and gave Maggie a long look. Wyatt stiffened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “You’re one helluva woman, Irish.”

  Within minutes the entire gang was saddled up and rolling out of the clearing, the roar of the cycles reverberating through the forest. When the last taillight disappeared down the dirt track through the trees, and the horrendous rumble of thirty motorcycles began to fade into the distance, Maggie turned toward the RV.

  Wyatt snagged her hand and jerked her to a stop. “Uh-uh. Oh, no you don’t. I want to know about that side bet you had with those creeps.”

  Maggie shrugged. “Just that if I won they’d leave the clearing and not give us any trouble. And they did.”

  “And if you had lost?”

  “Then I would join their gang.”

  “What? Are you crazy? Good God! What if you’d lost?”

  “Oh, there was no chance of that,” Maggie said airily. “I cheated.”

  “What?” he squawked again. “You cheated? You actually had the brass to cheat those thugs?”

  “Oh, don’t look so shocked. You didn’t think I would risk actually having to live with that bunch of social misfits, did you? And get passed from one woman abuser to another? Not me. Anyway, Snake and Kong were cheating, too. I’m just better at it, is all.”

  Maggie grinned and lifted Wyatt’s sagging jaw with an upward jab of her forefinger, her blue eyes twinkling. “Watch it, Your Nibs, or you’ll be catching flies.”

  He shook his head. Gradually, however, his dazed expression gave way to a slow grin that spread across his face like blinding sunshine after a storm. Throwing his head back, he let loose with a hearty laugh, followed by a very un-Wyatt-like whoop.

  “Ah, Maggie, my love, you’re fantastic.” He snatched her up in his arms and swung her around three times, nearly squeezing the life out of her. “God, I love you!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  He hadn’t meant it. Wyatt Sommersby in love? And with her, no less? Och, what a foolish notion.

  Maggie tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and worried the inside of her lip. She cast a covert glance at Wyatt. Of course he hadn’t meant it. It had just been one of those things that people say when they’re in a jubilant mood. That was all. ‘Twas certainly nothing for her to worry about.

  She cast another glance his way and exhaled a deep breath, her tense shoulders relaxing a bit. Och, ’tis a fine mountain you’re making out of a teeny molehill, my girl, she told herself bracingly. Since tossing out the startling remark, Wyatt had not mentioned it again, nor, apparently, had he given it another thought.

  The only thing on his mind at the moment seemed to be making sure they weren’t being followed. He stared out the window, his gaze fixed on the side mirror and the road behind them.

  Following the Black Devils’ departure, after swinging her around and kissing her soundly, he had abruptly released her and insisted that they break camp and leave at once.

  “We need to get as far away as we can, as fast as we can,” he had urged. “Those guys aren’t rocket
scientists, but eventually they’ll figure out that the only way you could have beaten them when they were cheating was if you were cheating, too, and they just might come after your hide. Even if they don’t, I don’t trust that Snake not to sneak away from the others and double back. You did some serious damage to his machismo, beating him that way. Besides, the slime ball’s got the hots for you.”

  “Eeeeooouu. Don’t even say that.” Maggie had made a face and shuddered, but the revolting thought had been enough to send her flying around the camp. In record time they were on the road, heading in the opposite direction the Black Devils had taken.

  “I know you don’t like commercial campgrounds, but I think it would be a good idea if we stayed in Grand Junction tonight,” Wyatt said, drawing her attention again. “I think we should stay close to a city with a sizable police force we can call on. Also, it will make it more difficult for them to find us.”

  “You really think that’s necessary? There’s been no sign of them.”

  He pulled his gaze from the side mirror and gave her a reassuring smile. “Probably not, but just to be on the safe side, I think we should.” Winking, he reached across and touched her arm with his fingertips. The tiny contact sent fire zinging up her arm. “Humor me on this, sweetheart.”

  Normally Maggie’s love of freedom would have prompted her to dismiss the suggestion with a laugh, but the softness of his voice and the concern in his eyes stirred a confusing welter of emotions in her chest. For no good reason that she could figure out, her eyes grew misty and she could not speak around the achy tightness in her throat. She answered with a nod and drove on in silence, blinking furiously.

  She felt Wyatt’s gaze but she kept her eyes on the road.

  “Are you all right? I’ll drive if you want.”

  “No, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Actually, she was a bundle of nerves. She had been ever since those hoodlums had come roaring into camp scaring the daylights out of her. Wyatt’s careless declaration hadn’t helped any, either. She’d sooner cut out her tongue than admit as much to him, however.

  Though there had been times over the past few weeks when she could tell he had wanted to object to some of the things she had insisted on trying, overall he’d been, if not exactly approving, at least tolerant. The last thing she wanted now was to trigger a lecture on the dangers of a lone female traveling around the country unprotected.

  They reached the campground on the outskirts of Grand Junction a little before nine that evening. Wyatt had learned how to set up the RV, and between them he and Maggie finished the job in minutes. The instant they stepped inside and locked the door, he surprised her by snatching her into his arms.

  He wrapped one arm around her, holding her to him like a vise. His other hand cupped the back of her head and pressed her face against his chest. “Oh, God, Maggie,” he said in a hoarse voice. “I was so scared those gorillas were going to hurt you.”

  Releasing her head, he put his fingers under her chin and tipped her face up. The look in his eyes made her breath catch and her heart stutter. He searched her features, one by one, settling at last on her mouth. His head began a slow descent, and his eyelids drifted downward. She could feel the flutter of his breath against her skin. The feathery touch was warm and moist and incredibly erotic. Maggie shivered helplessly. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you,” he whispered against her trembling lips an instant before his mouth claimed them.

  Maggie’s nerves were sizzling, and the heated kiss was like striking a match to tinder. She threw herself against his chest with something close to desperation, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on with all her might.

  A sound rumbled from Wyatt’s throat, something between a groan and laughter. Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her clear of the floor and carried her into the bedroom.

  He fell with her across the bed, and they rolled together, clutching and grasping at each other like greedy children. Within seconds, buttons, zippers and recalcitrant hooks were dealt with and clothes went flying. Foreplay and tenderness were not options. They were wound too tight, their need for each other was too urgent. The fear and tension that had gripped them for hours demanded release. Now.

  They kissed and rolled together on the bed, and when Wyatt rose above her, Maggie opened to him eagerly, in a move as smooth and natural as life itself. And as their bodies merged their sighs blended together.

  * * *

  In the sweet aftermath, Maggie lay in Wyatt’s arms, sated and content and filled with a delicious lassitude, the tension of the past hours vanquished.

  She rubbed the sole of one foot up and down his shin bone, sighing into his chest hairs, a tiny, self-satisfied smile curving her lips. If she had only known how glorious lovemaking was she would have indulged years ago. Her smug smile faded and a tiny frown line creased between her eyebrows. Except, she had an uneasy feeling that it wouldn’t be the same with anyone but Wyatt. That was not a comforting thought.

  Absently, his hand massaged her shoulders and back. Maggie dismissed the disquieting thoughts and gave herself over to the tactile pleasure of his touch. Making a purring sound, she stretched, arching her back like a cat.

  “Maggie.”

  “Hmm?”

  “I meant it, you know.”

  “Meant what?” she mumbled sleepily.

  “I love you.”

  It took a couple of seconds for the words to register on her drowsy brain. When they did she was sure she hadn’t heard him right. “What?” She braced up on her elbow and blinked.

  “I said, I love you.”

  The words pierced straight to Maggie’s heart, bringing an odd mixture of joy, pain and panic. However, other than an infinitesimal widening of her eyes, she managed to keep her expression calm—just barely. Wyatt watched her, those sharp, silvery eyes studying ever nuance of her expression.

  “No you don’t.” Maggie sat up on her haunches. Panic gained ascendancy and welled up inside her, but she fought to control it. Shaking her head, she gave a nervous little laugh. “Don’t be silly. Of course you don’t.”

  Trying to act unconcerned, she scooted backward across the mattress and scrambled off the bed. She kept her back to him and tossed the huge football jersey over her head and stuffed her feet into her bunny slippers.

  Normally, she was not in the least self-conscious around Wyatt, but now she felt somehow exposed. She moved over to the small dresser and picked up her brush and began a furious attack on her hair, her heart thundering. Sweet Mary and Joseph, she couldn’t deal with this.

  She could feel him watching her, waiting. Maggie groped for something to say, some flippant remark that would turn the whole thing into a joke, but she came up empty.

  The silence stretched out, grew thicker, tauter. She prayed he would laugh and say she was right, that he was just kidding, or at the very least say that he had merely been carried away by the emotion of the moment—anything to shatter the awful tension.

  Wyatt remained stubbornly silent.

  Her gaze accidentally clashed with his in the mirror. She attempted to hide her panic behind a saucy grin. It turned out stiff and a little weak around the edges, and she knew by his steady stare that he saw right through her charade. Still, she brazened it out.

  “C’mon, Your Nibs,” she told his reflection. “You can’t expect me to believe you’re serious. Why, practically from the first you warned me you weren’t the marrying kind.”

  “That was then and this is now. A lot has changed since we met.”

  “Not a’tall. Look, we’ve had a lovely interlude, and it’s only natural that we have warm feelings for each other, but...well...I think you’re confusing that for love.”

  “I’m thirty-six years old, Maggie, not a randy teenager. I know what I’m feeling. I’ve never felt this way about any woman before, and I don’t expect to ever feel this way again. I love you, sweetheart. And I want to marry you.”

  “Marry!”

>   She whirled around, her eyes wide. Her knees seemed to turn to water. Clamping both hands over her mouth, she sank down on the edge of the bed and stared at him. “You really mean it,” she murmured against her fingers.

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  “But you can’t love me!”

  She wailed the protest in an instant of pure panic. Grimacing, she quickly reined in her rioting emotions, falling back on her normal defence of amused nonchalance.

  “Wyatt, be serious,” she chided, forcing a chuckle. “Saints above, we’ve nothing in common. I’m totally unsuited to be Mrs. Wyatt Sommersby. Never this side of heaven would I fit into your life-style. Och! If I said yes, you’d be regrettin’ it within six months, an’ that’s a fact. ‘Tis crazy you are for even thinkin’ such a thing.” Smiling saucily, she leaned over and patted his cheek. “But don’t be thinkin’ I’m not flattered.”

  “It’s true you’re not at all the kind of woman I would have ever expected to fall for. You’re maddeningly independent, reckless, restless, irreverent and at times a royal pain in the posterior.”

  Maggie felt a spurt of affront, but she quelled it and forced another laugh. “There you are, then.”

  “But none of that matters. Because, Margaret Mary, I adore you. You make me happier than I’ve ever been in my life. When I’m with you I feel freer, more relaxed and at ease than I ever have. You’re funny and smart and sweet, though I know you won’t admit to the last.

  “You make me laugh and you make me want to tear my hair out at times. Most likely you’ll drive me crazy, but I’ve come to realize that I’d rather be crazy with you than miserable without you. I love you, Maggie, and you can deny it until you’re blue in the face, but that won’t change a thing. What’s more, you love me, too.”

  “What!” She laughed. It was that or panic. “I do no such thing.” Bounding up, she headed for the kitchen with as much sangfroid as she could muster, shaking her head and chuckling. “I’m sorry, Wyatt, but this is really too funny for wor—”