madam.”
“Good.”
“And you, sir?”
“The same,” Jonah said. His face was bland, but when the waiter left, he scowled. “Whiskey, Katy? This isn’t a lark, you know.”
“Don’t worry. I can drink you under the table, then shoot out a knothole at fifty yards.”
“I’m not concerned about your aim,” he growled. “It’s your judgment I’m worried about.”
“Believe me, no one in here is going to think some tea-sipping miss is worth playing poker with.”
“I don’t think there’s any danger of anyone in his right mind mistaking you for a tea-sipping miss,” Jonah noted under his
breath.
“Good.” The smoldering look Katy sent Jonah’s way was merely practice for the role she was about to play, but the answering
snap of his eyes was gratifying just the same.
“Let’s get this over with,” Jonah urged.
Katy looked around the smoky, canvas-walled room. Poker rivaled drinking for the main activity in the place. Four different
games were going on. One table she dismissed immediately. She recognized the cut of the man who sat there with three others.
He studied his cards with the eye of a professional. A good professional. There was no sense in stacking the odds against
herself.
Another table was occupied by five men who were drinking more than they were playing, and having a very fine time of it. Drunks
got riled much too easily, and Katy wanted a nice sober table with men who weren’t going to blow up when she taught them how
the game was played.
In a far corner was the table she was looking for. The four gentlemen there were prosperous-looking. They seemed more serious
about their cards than their drinks, but none had thecool intensity of a sharp. What’s more, one of them was picking up his winnings and preparing to leave.
“There it is,” Katy said to Jonah.
He closed his eyes and looked as if he were muttering a prayer.
Katy’s heart thudded as she threaded her way through the tables and the curious eyes and presented herself to her intended
victims. She was more nervous about the role she played than the poker game. She’d never in her life been so aware of male
scrutiny. Actually, she’d never in her life felt so female, and thus so vulnerable. It had to be the dress that was making
her feel so strange. Or the kiss. That damned stupid kiss.
“You gentlemen have an empty seat,” she said smoothly to the men seated around the table. She had rehearsed the words enough
that they came out sounding confident and casual.
Three pairs of eyes locked onto her. A few brows lifted. One mouth quirked upward in a tolerant smile.
“It seems we do, ma’am,” said the smiler. He was a pleasant-faced man with a middle-aged paunch and a closely trimmed beard.
The player to his left had white hair, a beard down to the middle of his chest, and watery blue eyes that regarded her disapprovingly.
The other man at the table was young and slender—frail-looking, almost. Sparse brown hair was combed meticulously over the
bald spot on top of his head. His face wore a dazzled expression, as though he’d never seen a woman before this moment.
“Would you mind if I make a fourth?”
The room around them grew quiet. The gentlemen at the table were not the only ones taking her measure. Katy felt Jonah’s presence
at her back, reassuring and yet disconcerting as well.
“This game is for money, ma’am, not for entertainment. The stakes are high.”
Katy managed a confident smile. “That’s the only kind of game I play, gentlemen.”
The smiler looked to the others at the table for approval. One nodded. The other shrugged.
“We’d be honored, ma’am.” All three stood. One pulled out the empty chair.
Katy settled herself therein as gracefully, she hoped, as a true sophisticated gambling lady might do. “I appreciate your
sociability, gentlemen. This”—she patted the hand that Jonah laid on her shoulder—“is my… uh… friend, Mr.
“Good.”
“And you, sir?”
“The same,” Jonah said. His face was bland, but when the waiter left, he scowled. “Whiskey, Katy? This isn’t a lark, you know.”
“Don’t worry. I can drink you under the table, then shoot out a knothole at fifty yards.”
“I’m not concerned about your aim,” he growled. “It’s your judgment I’m worried about.”
“Believe me, no one in here is going to think some tea-sipping miss is worth playing poker with.”
“I don’t think there’s any danger of anyone in his right mind mistaking you for a tea-sipping miss,” Jonah noted under his
breath.
“Good.” The smoldering look Katy sent Jonah’s way was merely practice for the role she was about to play, but the answering
snap of his eyes was gratifying just the same.
“Let’s get this over with,” Jonah urged.
Katy looked around the smoky, canvas-walled room. Poker rivaled drinking for the main activity in the place. Four different
games were going on. One table she dismissed immediately. She recognized the cut of the man who sat there with three others.
He studied his cards with the eye of a professional. A good professional. There was no sense in stacking the odds against
herself.
Another table was occupied by five men who were drinking more than they were playing, and having a very fine time of it. Drunks
got riled much too easily, and Katy wanted a nice sober table with men who weren’t going to blow up when she taught them how
the game was played.
In a far corner was the table she was looking for. The four gentlemen there were prosperous-looking. They seemed more serious
about their cards than their drinks, but none had thecool intensity of a sharp. What’s more, one of them was picking up his winnings and preparing to leave.
“There it is,” Katy said to Jonah.
He closed his eyes and looked as if he were muttering a prayer.
Katy’s heart thudded as she threaded her way through the tables and the curious eyes and presented herself to her intended
victims. She was more nervous about the role she played than the poker game. She’d never in her life been so aware of male
scrutiny. Actually, she’d never in her life felt so female, and thus so vulnerable. It had to be the dress that was making
her feel so strange. Or the kiss. That damned stupid kiss.
“You gentlemen have an empty seat,” she said smoothly to the men seated around the table. She had rehearsed the words enough
that they came out sounding confident and casual.
Three pairs of eyes locked onto her. A few brows lifted. One mouth quirked upward in a tolerant smile.
“It seems we do, ma’am,” said the smiler. He was a pleasant-faced man with a middle-aged paunch and a closely trimmed beard.
The player to his left had white hair, a beard down to the middle of his chest, and watery blue eyes that regarded her disapprovingly.
The other man at the table was young and slender—frail-looking, almost. Sparse brown hair was combed meticulously over the
bald spot on top of his head. His face wore a dazzled expression, as though he’d never seen a woman before this moment.
“Would you mind if I make a fourth?”
The room around them grew quiet. The gentlemen at the table were not the only ones taking her measure. Katy felt Jonah’s presence
at her back, reassuring and yet disconcerting as well.
“This game is for money, ma’am, not for entertainment. The stakes are high.”
Katy managed a confident smile. “That’s the only kind of game I play, gentlemen.”
The smiler looked to the others at the table for approval. One nodded. The other shrugged.
“We’d be honored, ma’am.” All three stood. One pulled out the empty chair.
Katy settled herself therein as gracefully, she hoped, as a true sophisticated gambling lady might do. “I appreciate your
sociability, gentlemen. This”—she patted the hand that Jonah laid on her shoulder—“is my… uh… friend, Mr.
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