Kincaid's Dangerous Game. Kathleen Creighton

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СКАЧАТЬ people always seem to make it to the final table.”

      Her eyes came back to him, her lips curved in a half smile. “Oh, believe me, luck still has a whole lot to do with it.” Her head tilted, and the dark lenses taunted him. “Please tell me you’re not planning on trying your hand at the game while you’re in town.”

      “Well, actually…”

      “Oh, lord.” She faced front again and hissed out a sigh.

      “What? Why not?” He straightened, genuinely affronted.

      She laughed without sound. “Why not? Well, okay, go ahead, if you don’t mind losing. Just do yourself a favor, stay away from the high-stakes tables.”

      “What makes you so sure I’d lose? I’ll have you know I do pretty well at online poker.”

      “Sure you do, because nobody can see your face.”

      “What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

      “You really want to know?”

      “Yeah,” he said, and meant it.

      They were bantering, he realized, though there was nothing light or easy about it. The tension in the car was almost tangible, like a low-pitched humming, but something felt along the skin rather than heard through the ears. He had the impression she was playing him, flirting with him, deliberately trying to distract him from whatever his agenda was.

      But, without being able to see her eyes, of course, he couldn’t be sure.

      “Mister—”

      “It’s Holt.”

      “Well, Holt, you’ve got tells a child could read. Okay?”

      “Come on.”

      She smiled, and this time a pair of dimples appeared unexpectedly. “Look, don’t get insulted. Most people have ’em and aren’t even aware they do. That’s why you see so many poker players wearing hats and dark glasses.”

      “Is that why you do?” he asked softly.

      The dimples vanished. “Like I said, I don’t play the game anymore. I guess I’ve still got the habit.” She waited a couple of beats before continuing. “Do you even have a sister?”

      Holt snorted and didn’t bother to answer. He listened to the shush of the air-conditioning and the throb of the idling motor and the hum of that unrelenting tension, and Billie sat there and listened along with him. Patient, he thought. Probably one of the things that had made her a success at the poker tables. Because in spite of what she’d said, he knew it was more than just luck.

      He exhaled, conceding her the hand. “Okay, so you made me.” He paused, then said, “I’m curious, though. How come you’re here? Sitting in my car? Making conversation?”

      “Why not? It’s a nice car.

      Then it was her turn to huff out air, too softly to be called a snort. “You’re familiar with that old saying, ‘Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer’?”

      He jerked—another tell, he was sure, but what the hell. “I’m not your enemy.”

      “Well, sure, you’d say that.” The almost-smile played with her lips again. “Tell you what, Holt—is that a first name or a last, by the way?”

      “First. It’s Holt Kincaid.”

      “Okay, so…Holt. Why don’t I let you buy me lunch and you can tell me who you are and what you really want. And I’m willing to bet the farm it ain’t rosebushes.”

      He laughed, then sat still and did a slow five-count inside his head. Then, still slowly, before he shifted from Park into Drive he reached up and unhooked his sunglasses from the sun visor and put them on. And heard her knowing chuckle in response.

      He didn’t think he’d let himself show the triumph he was feeling, but he was beginning to realize that with this lady, there was no such thing as a sure bet.

      She directed him to an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet place in a strip mall not far from the nursery, and since it was fast, convenient and kind to the pocketbook, Holt figured she was probably a regular there. That theory was confirmed when Billie gave a wave and a friendly greeting to the two women at the cash register—mother and daughter, by the look of them—and got smiles in return.

      She breezed through the dining room, heading for a booth way in the back, one he happened to notice was turned sideways to the entrance so that neither of them would have to sit with their backs to the door. Somehow he doubted that was a coincidence.

      “Is this okay?” she asked with apparent innocence. And although the lighting was low, she didn’t take off those shades.

      “Sure,” he said, and she swept off to the buffet.

      Because he didn’t entirely trust her not to slip out while he was dithering between the kung pao chicken or the sweet-and-sour shrimp, Holt got himself a bowl of wonton soup and settled back in the booth where he could keep an eye on her. He watched her slip in and out among the browsing diners, adroitly avoiding reaching arms and unpredictable children, wasting little time in indecision, since she obviously knew exactly what she wanted.

      And he felt an odd little flutter beneath his breastbone when it occurred to him he wasn’t just watching her because she was someone he needed to keep track of. He was watching her for the sheer pleasure of it.

      Okay, so she’s attractive, he thought, squirming in the booth while a spoonful of wonton sat cooling halfway between the bowl and his mouth. So what? Given what he was pretty certain was her genetic makeup, that was no big surprise. So far, all of Cory Pearson’s siblings had been exceptionally attractive people. Why should this one be any different?

      And yet, she was different. He couldn’t put his finger on what made her so, but she was. Not beautiful, and certainly not pretty—both of those adjectives seemed both too much and too little to describe her heart-shaped face and neat, compact little body. She wasn’t tall and willowy, like her twin sister Brooke, and while her hair was blond and neither curly nor straight—also like Brooke’s—hers was a couple of shades darker and cut in haphazard layers, and it looked like she might be in the habit of combing it with her fingers. He couldn’t tell about her eyes, of course. But, maybe due to being unable to see past the shades, he’d spent quite a bit of time looking at her mouth. It fascinated him, that mouth. Her lips weren’t particularly full, but exquisitely shaped, with an upward tilt at the corners. And then there were those surprising dimples. Her teeth weren’t perfectly straight, which led him to surmise she’d run away from home before the mandatory teenage orthodontia had taken place. In an odd sort of way, he was glad.

      What she was, he decided, was dynamic. There was just something about her that drew his gaze and held it, like a magnet.

      “That all you’re having?” She asked it in that breathless way she had as she slipped into the booth opposite him, carrying a plate loaded with an impossible amount of food.

      “Just the first course.” He stared pointedly at her heaped plate. “Is that all you’re having?”

      “Just СКАЧАТЬ