Gambling on Love Read online

  Gambling

  on

  Love

  by

  Sandi Hampton

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Gambling on Love

  COPYRIGHT © 2012 by Sandi Hampton

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Tina Lynn Stout

  The Wild Rose Press

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Cactus Rose Edition, 2012

  Print ISBN 978-61217-033-6

  Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-349-8

  Published in the United States of America

  Praise for Sandi Hampton

  SAMANTHA’S SACRIFICE

  “I sat down to read this story when I woke up this morning and didn’t stop until I finished. Yes, folks. It’s that good.” ~Long and Short Romance Reviews

  "The plot was well developed, the sensuality was dynamic, and the emotional baggage each carried around made this a great book...I could not put the book down...a fabulous book.” ~The Romance Studio

  LAST CHANCE FOR LOVE

  “An endearing story worth reading more than once. ...Enough sexual tension to keep you turning the pages.” ~WRDF Review

  “The story is beautifully written with a strong plot and all the makings of a great book. I was completely captivated.” ~Coffee Time Romance

  WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT

  “The wild west, rugged lawmen and heroines who are strong and sexy. Ms. Hampton pulled all these elements together in this wonderful tale and left me with a smile on my face and a good feeling in my heart.” ~Seriously Reviewed

  THE OUTLAW'S DAUGHTER

  “A sweet story with characters who epitomize the best and the worst of the post Civil War western USA...the story is fresh and fast moving with a bit of suspense at just the right time to keep us guessing about the outcome.” ~The Romance Studio

  "I really enjoyed Ms. Hampton's story about love and redemption...this is a good western story.”

  ~You Gotta Read Reviews

  “Fun, action packed, and very sexy. I hope I get a chance to read more by Ms. Hampton.”

  ~Happily Ever After Reviews

  Dedication

  A special thanks to my readers. I hope you enjoy my stories of the Old West and that fascinating era comes alive for you through my rugged cowboy heroes and the brave women who love them.

  Chapter 1

  1876

  Aboard the riverboat Delta Princess

  “Wanna make the bet worthwhile, lady?”

  Angel Devereaux tore her gaze from her cards and stared at the speaker—a handsome cowboy with coal black hair and icy blue eyes. Eyes that revealed nothing. She schooled her features to do the same. She broke eye contact and studied her hand. It was a great poker hand. A queen high straight flush of hearts. She glanced at the considerable pile of poker chips in the center of the table. She needed that money. Desperately.

  Her chips had dwindled to almost nothing. The other players had already dropped out of the hand. It was a standoff between her and the cowboy.

  “Well, lady? I’m waiting for an answer.” He took a long drag on his cheroot, then blew the smoke into the air.

  Angel raised her head and pasted a smile on her lips, reminding herself to remain calm and not reveal anything. “Don’t rush me, cowboy. I’m thinking. Tell me, what do you have in mind?”

  He nodded at her pitiful bankroll. “It looks like you’re a little short to call my bet. But if you’re willing to make the bet worthwhile...”

  His words, heavy with challenge, hung in the air like a leaded weight. The man’s cold blue eyes sent a chill racing down her spine. Not once did he smile. Despite a gut instinct to throw in her cards, desperation made her take the challenge. “Speak your piece. What do you want?”

  “A night with you.”

  A gasp tore from her lips. Silence settled over the table as all eyes turned to her. A mocking gleam appeared in the cowboy’s eyes, and his mouth quirked into the slightest of grins. She’d committed one of the cardinal sins of poker—she’d let her opponent know he’d gotten to her. “You, sir, are not a gentleman. I’m a gambler, not an upstairs girl.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever you say, ma’am.”

  His nonchalance and the sarcasm with which he said “ma’am” screamed his disbelief. She slammed her cards onto the table, then clenched her hands into fists. Her fingernails dug into her palms. With great effort, she calmed herself, picked up her cards and once again studied them. If he held the ace and king of hearts, he’d have a royal flush. The odds were slim, but he looked confident. Was he bluffing? Or cheating? If he was cheating, he was certainly good at it. She hadn’t seen any sign of misdoing thus far.

  She weighed the odds. If the bank wasn’t paid soon, Grandpapa would lose the riverboat. The Delta Princess was the most important thing in the world to him—next to her, and she felt the same about him. He’d taken her and her mother in when her father had deserted them. After her mother died, he’d raised her. This riverboat was home.

  The silence spread from her table over the entire room as everyone waited for her decision. What would happen if she lost? She’d have to spend a night with the handsome cowboy. Although she’d never been with a man before, the thought of it sent her pulse racing. From behind lowered eyelashes, she studied his hands. Large hands, strong and tanned with clean, neatly-trimmed fingernails. For a moment, she imagined those hands on her, doing...

  I’ve got to keep my mind on this game. Stalling for time, she tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. Someone shuffled his feet, reminding her everyone was waiting. She couldn’t bear it if the bank took the Delta Princess from her grandfather while she did nothing to stop it. Whatever she would suffer at the hands of this cowboy would be a small measure of repayment to her grandfather for all he’d done for her. Besides, she had a hunch the stranger was bluffing. She squared her shoulders and notched her chin up. “And what if I win?”

  A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He pulled a wad of bills from his coat pocket and placed it on the table. “I’ll double the pot.”

  Double? That would almost pay the bank off. Anticipation crowded into her mind, replacing the cool logic on which she’d always prided herself. “I’ll take that bet.”

  A look of surprise flitted across his face before he quickly hid it. Good. At least she’d caught him off guard—as he had her.

  “I’ve heard you’re a real gambler,” he stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray at his elbow, “and you haven’t disappointed me. I must tell you I’m very impressed.”

  Despite her resolve to remain aloof, Angel grinned at him. “It’s not my intention to impress you. It’s my intention to take your money.”

  “To the winner belong the spoils.” He raised his glass and saluted her, then drained the liquor in one gulp. “Now show me what you’ve got.”

  “After you.”

  “All right.” With a smug smile, he leisurely tossed his cards one by one onto the table, the ace and king of hearts. “A royal flush. Can you beat that?”

  Angel gulped down the lump that suddenly appeared in her throat. She threw her cards onto the table.
“No.”

  A murmur rose from the table and quickly elevated to hoarse cries. “She lost. Angel lost the game.”

  She pointed a finger at the cowboy. “I think, sir, that the odds of a straight flush and a royal flush in the same hand are about a zillion to one.”

  He slapped her hand aside. “What are you saying?”

  She notched her chin up. “I’m just saying that you’re very lucky or—”

  “Or what?” The stranger pushed his chair back and stood, towering over her like a giant bird of prey. “Are you calling me a cheater?”

  He meant to intimidate her, but she didn’t scare easily. At least not in front of others. She stared up at him, keeping her gaze steady. “I’m just saying the odds are stacked against it. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Yeah. I guess this is just my lucky day.”

  “I guess so.” She took a deep breath. What was she to do now? Her sense of fair play told her she should honor the bet. If she didn’t, word would spread the entire length of the Mississippi and ruin her reputation as an honest gambler.

  But, on the other hand, the thought of...the other unnerved her.

  “Well?”

  She rose to her feet, her brain furiously searching for a way out of this dilemma. One glance at the cowboy’s stern visage told her he wouldn’t release her from her wager. She needed more time to think. “My cabin number is thirteen,” she whispered. “You can come there in one hour.”

  His brows knotted together, and for a moment she thought he was going to protest, but he didn’t. He merely nodded. “One hour.”

  Angel gathered her skirt and what was left of her dignity and walked toward the door. She wanted to run but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Hushed whispers floated around her, but she ignored them. With her head held high, she left the room.

  Once in the hallway, her composure fled. She bolted down the corridor like a frightened doe. When she reached her cabin, she opened the door and stepped inside, then took a deep breath. She didn’t know what perturbed her more—the prospect of spending the night with the cowboy—or not. What had gotten into her? Before tonight, she’d never met a man she’d even allow to hold her hand or kiss her. Now she was even entertaining the thought of—

  No. Totally out of the question. Besides, what would her grandfather think? He certainly wouldn’t approve. In fact, he’d be ashamed of her. She had to get away. But how?

  Eleeza. The old Cajun woman who’d taken care of her all her life knew all about conjuring up spells and making potions for all sorts of things. Maybe a sleeping draught…just strong enough to allow her the time to escape. She dashed over to the bell cord and tugged on it.

  ****

  Evan watched the beautiful woman leave the gaming salon. Finding her hadn’t been hard because there weren’t that many women gamblers on the Mississippi riverboats. In fact, he knew of no others. But she wasn’t at all what he’d expected to find. For one thing, she looked to be too young to be in such a place, but she appeared calm and cool and totally in control. He chuckled to himself. His wager had dented that cool façade.

  He’d first noticed her hair when he entered the room. It was the same coppery red as her father’s. Piled high on her head in curls, loose tendrils curled around her face. Her resemblance to Jake Plummer amazed him.

  Elegantly attired in the latest fashion, she would have been at home in any of the mansions lining the banks of the Mississippi River in New Orleans. The green of her satin gown matched the green of her eyes. Her off-shoulder gown revealed creamy white skin. The diamond earrings she wore looked to be the real thing. For a moment, he wondered why she had chosen this life, then quickly pushed those thoughts aside. He wasn’t here to get to know her. He’d planned to find her, tell her about her father, spend some time in New Orleans, and then head home. He’d surprised himself when he joined the card game at her table. He’d certainly never planned to try to win a night with her.

  A suspicion that she didn’t plan to honor her bet nagged at him. He’d never really expected her to agree to such a wager. Just proved everyone had a price. He decided to follow her to thwart any plans for escape. He’d go to her cabin, tell her about her father and leave. Spending the night with her would complicate things, and he didn’t like complications. His life was just the way he wanted it, and he intended to keep it that way. He sauntered from the room. Crude and explicit remarks followed him, bringing reddened cheeks to the other women dining across the room.

  Once in the hall, he turned left and headed toward cabin thirteen. Lucky number thirteen. Lucky for him, that is. Earlier that evening, a few well-placed dollars had purchased her cabin number. He whistled as he made his way to the upper deck. Once there, he leaned against the railing and waited outside her cabin. From his vantage point, no one could enter or leave number thirteen without his knowledge.

  Below him, the muddy brown waters of the Mississippi swirled and eddied on its way to the Gulf of Mexico. Only the sound of water lapping against the boat’s hull broke the stillness of the night. In the distance, lights blinked along the shore. The sway of the deck beneath his feet reminded him he was a landlubber. His stomach lurched. He was meant to ride horses—not boats.

  A swishing noise sounded behind him. He whirled and found himself face to face with an old woman in a white blouse and a long, multi-colored skirt. Her white hair and the millions of wrinkles on her face told him she was very old. Her skin was swarthy, her eyes the same shade of brown as the muddy waters of the Mississippi. Around her neck, she wore long strands of tinkling beads. She seemed out of place, as though she should be standing over a cauldron—chanting or conjuring up spells, not on a riverboat. He grinned at his imagination.

  The old woman passed him without a blink of an eye, as if he were not standing there. Her musky, earthy scent trailed behind her. She glided over to the cabin door and rapped softly.

  The door opened immediately. Angel stood there, her copper-colored hair shining from the glow of the lantern, her curves silhouetted against the light. Desire slammed into him like a bullet. His body stirred, and he shifted his weight. Why am I so attracted to this woman? Mary waited for him back home. She was warm and passionate and tried to please him in every way possible. What more could a man want? He’d been seeing Mary for over a year now, and she was pushing him to get married. Since he’d wanted a son for a long time, he’d even considered the possibility. Yet here he was running after the Lady Gambler like a stallion chasing a mare in season.

  At that moment, she caught sight of him. Her eyes widened, then her mouth tugged down into a frown. She quickly pulled the old woman inside and slammed the door.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” Evan muttered. Even though he didn’t plan on collecting his bet, he didn’t want her to think she’d won. Not yet anyway. He walked over to the door and raised his fist.

  But before he could pound on the door, it opened and he stared into green eyes flashing with anger. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “What do you want? It’s not time yet. It hasn’t been an hour.”

  He leaned against the door frame and stared at her. She didn’t flinch, nor retreat even a step. Grudging admiration for her gumption surfaced. “I just want to make sure you’re not planning to renege on your bet.”

  She leaned against the door frame too. If he moved a muscle, they’d touch. Her green eyes sparked with—challenge? She smelled of roses. Her scent circled him, as if trying to trap him in its aromatic noose. From his height advantage, he could see the gentle swell of her bosom, further heating his already awakened body.

  “I’ve never walked out on a bet in my whole life,” she retorted.

  “Don’t start now.” He nodded at the old woman. “What’s she doing here?”

  “Eleeza is my maid. She’s here to...” Angel’s voice trailed off, and she blushed. “To prepare, to make sure...” Her color heightened if that were possible, then she firmed her lips. “I don’t want any children to come of this lac
k of good sense on my part. Eleeza is here to make sure that doesn’t happen.” She arched her eyebrows at him. “Satisfied?”

  He bit back a sharp retort, then nodded. This headstrong and outspoken woman astonished him. Mary would never have said anything like that, but then again, Mary would never be a riverboat gambler either—in fact, he wouldn’t allow his woman to be such a public spectacle. He pulled his watch from his vest pocket, glanced at it, then tucked it back in his pocket. “A half hour to go. I’ll be back then.” He left her room and returned to his place at the railing.

  ****

  Angel flounced over to her bed and threw herself on the silken coverlet. Disgust filled her. She’d been so sure she was going to win that hand she’d thrown caution to the winds. “Eleeza, you must help me. I made a wager—”

  “I have heard of this.”

  “The grapevine on this boat has no equal. And has my grandfather also heard?”

  “I not think so. At least not yet. But it only matter of time.” The old woman wagged her finger under Angel’s nose. “You are a young and foolish girl! You make big mistake, and now you want Eleeza fix.”

  Angel’s cheeks flamed, but she didn’t flinch. “Yes. I want you to fix it. I have to get away.”

  “That man, he wait outside your door, and you too big to climb out window.” She grinned suddenly, her teeth startling white in her dark face. “Besides, man very handsome, very much man. You have good time with him.”

  Despite the seriousness of her situation, Angel laughed. “Yes, he is very good-looking, but I don’t know him or anything about him. When I do make that move, I want it to be with the man I love and plan to marry.”

  “So what you want Eleeza do?” The old woman crossed her arms over her generous bosom and waited.

  “I thought maybe a sleeping potion. Once he comes in, I’ll offer him a glass of wine with the potion in it. I’ll stall him until it takes effect. Then while he’s asleep, I’ll pack a few clothes and leave. When he gets off the boat, I can come back.”