Chapter Thirty-Three

Harry stepped forward and took the seat opposite Blake. Two other men filled the seats on his left and right, and Blake pushed the playing cards toward Harry for him to deal.

Ellie could only watch in wonder as Harry made a complete mess of shuffling the cards. Instead of making them fly effortlessly between his fingers, as she'd seen him do when they'd played at Cobham House, he seemed awkward and fumbling, as if he'd barely handled cards in his life.

He shook his head with an embarrassed apology, and she bit back a smile as Blake gave a sly smirk of anticipation. He clearly thought Harry was going to be an easy mark.

Over the course of the next few hands Harry played solidly, but without noticeable success. The coins in the middle of the table ebbed and flowed among the four players, but the pile grew steadily as they gradually increased the stakes.

When Harry won a hand, he glanced up at her with an expression of surprised delight, as if he hadn't expected the win at all. He kissed the inside of her wrist, sending a shiver up her arm, and drew her to stand at his shoulder.

Ellie almost applauded his acting ability. She had absolutely no doubt that he was biding his time, lulling his opponent into a sense of false security before he pounced.

"What say we double the odds for this next game, eh, gents?" he suggested. "I think Lady Luck is finally smiling on me."

The other three men agreed, and Ellie's nerves increased along with the stakes. When the pot reached two hundred pounds, the man on Harry's left withdrew. When the stake reached five hundred, the man on his right folded, too, leaving only Harry and Blake.

Blake sent Harry a condescending smile. "Do you wish to continue, sir? Or is it too rich for you?"

Harry tugged his cravat. He took another deep gulp of his beer, then looked up to Ellie, as if seeking her opinion. She bent and kissed his cheek, taking her cue.

"I love a man who plays deep," she cooed, biting her lip at the deliberate innuendo. She slid her hand up his shoulder and toyed with the hair at the back of his neck, then gave his ear a teasing nip with her teeth. Her breasts pressed against his shoulder. "Win this round, and I'll make you the happiest man in Covent Garden."

Harry sucked in a breath, as if he was finding it hard to breathe, then gave a laugh that sounded full of bravado.

"Why not?" He pushed all of his previous winnings into the center of the green baize. An impressed murmur rippled around the spectators.

"I'm all in," he said. "A thousand pounds."

Blake's eyes gleamed at the prospect of a windfall. He pushed his own coins forward, then reached into his jacket pocket. "Will you accept this as the second half of my bet?" He placed a sparkling blue stone on the table between them. "It's an aquamarine. I'm told it once belonged to a prince. It's worth at least five hundred pounds."

Ellie gazed at it in interest. The gem was shaped like a sphere that had been cut in half; flat on the bottom and curved on the top. The facets glittered invitingly, although she had no idea if it really was precious, or simply a colored piece of glass.

Harry, however, gave an easy laugh. "I'm no expert in gemstones, but I'll take your word as a gentleman. Let's play."

Blake reached to pick up the deck, but Harry gave a polite cough. "It's my turn to deal, is it not?"

A few others in the crowd muttered their agreement, and Blake's jaw hardened as he slid the cards over to Harry. "My mistake."

Harry dealt the cards and Ellie watched with bated breath to see if she could detect any hint that either he or Blake were cheating. She could not.

Blake gazed at his hand, then called for another card. Harry slid it over to him, and when Blake picked it up his expression revealed neither dissatisfaction nor pleasure.

"I'll stay."

Ellie's heart was pounding in her chest as Harry lifted his own hand for her to see, and she tried to keep her face expressionless as she saw the queen of hearts and the ace of spades; a winning total of twenty-one.

How on earth had he managed it?

He placed the cards face up on the table with a laugh that sounded completely incredulous. "Bloody Hell! Would you look at that!"

Blake blinked and sucked in an audible breath. Then an angry flush mottled his cheeks as he tossed down his own hand: a king, an eight, and a two. A total of twenty.

"Your hand, sir," he said stiffly.

A roar of delight burst from the crowd. Harry was enthusiastically clapped on the back, but Ellie glanced nervously at Blake. Would he be so angry at the loss that he'd accuse Harry of cheating?

But Blake seemed more amazed than annoyed, as if he'd been so certain of winning, he couldn't quite believe he'd lost. He rose from his chair and then pushed angrily through the crowd, ignoring the commiserating comments thrown his way.

Harry reached forward, picked the jewel from the pile of coins, and held it up toward Ellie. "For the lady!"

Conscious of her role, she caught hold of his cravat, yanked him toward her, and kissed him soundly on the mouth. The crowd cheered as she plucked the jewel from his hand and pushed it down the front of her bodice, into the cleft between her breasts.

"I'll look after that for you, sir!" she said with a saucy grin.

Harry laughed and gave her bottom a playful pinch. He gathered the rest of his winnings and put them in his pockets, then turned a regretful look to the men all clamoring to play him in the hopes of winning back some of his coin.

"Sorry, gents, but the lovely Carlotta's promised me a night I won't forget. I bid you good evening."

A chorus of ribald comments followed them as they left the gaming room, and Ellie tried to calm her racing pulse. She half expected Blake to be lying in wait for them in the street outside, to rob them of their winnings, but Harry must have arranged for Carson to be waiting. A plain black carriage—not the one with the Cobham crest on the panels—rattled up almost as soon as they stepped out onto Henrietta Street.

Harry turned to her. "Can you come back to Cobham House?"

She shook her head, even as she swallowed a groan of disappointment. "I wish I could, but I have to get back home."

He gave the address to Carson, then climbed in after her, and as soon as the coach started forward, he caught the back of her neck and toppled her into his lap for a kiss.

Ellie gave a helpless groan of delight. She melted against him as his tongue invaded her mouth, her blood fizzing with excitement.

"Brilliant girl," he panted against her lips. "The perfect partner in crime."

He pressed feverish kisses across her jaw and down her throat, then slid his fingers into her bodice. She gasped as he brushed her nipple.

"Now, where did you hide that lovely jewel?"

His breath was hot on her skin. She tilted her head back and arched into his touch, even as she let out a shivery laugh. "Oh, no you don't! It's mine, remember? The price for helping prove who you are."

He nipped the top of her breast with a playful bite before soothing it with his tongue. "Vixen. You drive a hard bargain."

Ellie laughed. She kissed him again, then gave in to temptation and slid her hand down his chest and then lower, to the impressive bulge between his legs. "Not as hard as this," she murmured wickedly.

He let out a hiss between his teeth. "God, Ellie. You'd drive a saint to drink."

She caressed him through his breeches and he kissed her almost savagely in response. His hips bucked as she unbuttoned his falls, and he groaned as she took him in her hand.

"You don't have to—"

She cut off his protest. "I want to. Let me. Please."

He was hard and hot and she delighted in the feel of him, the way his breath hitched as she pumped and squeezed.

His hand came up to cover hers, moving up and down, but the erratic motion of the coach added an extra complication, making it hard to maintain a rhythm. He swore savagely as they went over a particularly deep rut, and Ellie giggled. She loved the thought of him being out of control. Of taking him to the very edge of sanity. It was only fair. He'd done the same to her.

Their joined hands pumped faster. He gripped the leather strap on the wall with his free hand and arched his spine, tilting his head back on the seat and exposing his throat. The sight of him made her own body thrum with desire, but she was determined to give him this gift. She pumped her hand, and with a groan that seemed dragged from his chest he went rigid, pulsing in her hand.

He let out a long, satisfied sigh and sprawled back into the seat. "Bloody Hell. I love the way you celebrate a successful mission."

His wetness was on her fingers, probably on his breeches, too, although it was hard to tell in the dim light. Ellie pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her hands as he straightened his clothing, then leaned against him as he pulled her to his side.

"Naughty," he chided weakly. His voice was low in the darkness as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Ellie chuckled. "You're a terrible influence. You definitely bring out the worst in me."

"Or is it the best?" he murmured. "I wish there was time to return the favor, but we're almost back at Bloomsbury."

"It's all right. Will I see you tomorrow at King and Company?"

"I'll be there at ten o'clock sharp." He sent a laughing look at her bodice, where the aquamarine still nestled against her skin. "I've kept my side of the bargain. It's time for you to keep yours."