The Devil Served Desire by Shirley Jump Page B

then took her other hand and led her to the chess table. "Have a seat."
    She arched a brow at him. "You want to play chess with me?"
    "I do, indeed." He pulled out her chair at the small gateleg table against the living room wall.
    "Being all chivalrous now, are you?"
    "I figure I might as well be nice before I whup you on your own chess board." He watched her sit and marveled again at how different Maria was from anyone he knew. A woman who was smart, sexy and played chess? Dante had definitely died and gone to Man Heaven. He took the seat opposite her and ran a hand along the crackled surface of the table. "Nice piece of wood."
    "Thanks. I salvaged it myself last year. Had a hell of a time getting the old finish off but I think it looks a lot better now than it did painted pink with flowers."
    "You did this?" She could use power tools, too? This wasn't just heaven, it was Utopia in female form. He fingered the edge again. "Great job."
    "Thanks." Maria opened the drawer on her side of the table and pulled out the chess pieces. "It was part of a... refinishing frenzy I had for a while."
    "Had?"
    "Yeah."
    "What happened? You run out of furniture?"
    "No. Another woman imprinted her ass on my dining room table."
    "Oh." He considered that piece of information for a moment. "That would do it."
    "Yeah." She brought out the last of the pieces. "Black or white?"
    "Black. For the bad guy. I can't have you keeping me on a pedestal forever." He grinned.
    "I don't have you on a pedestal."
    He reached over and started taking his pieces and placing them on the corresponding squares on the board. "Oh, yes, you do. You think I'm some kind of choirboy destined to become every mamma's dream son-in-law."
    "Not every mamma's." She set her bishops in place. "Just mine."
    "A match made in heaven," he said.
    "Or hell. Since your name does mean 'devil' in Italian."
    He smirked. "Think of me as a study in contrasts."
    "If I think of you at all," she said blithely, sliding a pawn forward. "Your move."
    He took a sip of wine, considering the board.
    "It's just a pawn," she said. "Not a lifetime commitment."
    Dante met her gaze. "What if we raised the stakes a little?"
    "Meaning?"
    "Loser gives the winner a massage."
    She cocked her head. "Uh-huh. Typical male thinking. And of what body part?"
    He grinned. "I'll be fair. Make it loser's choice."
    She wagged a finger at him. "You'd probably lose on purpose."
    "I never lose on purpose. My male pride couldn't take the hit."
    Maria sipped at her wine and met his teasing gaze. "Nope. This is my apartment. My chess board. Thus, my rules." She gestured toward him with her goblet. "You lose, I choose the part of my body you massage. I lose and I still choose the part of your body to massage."
    Even as the words left her lips, though, Maria wasn't so sure it wasn't a losing proposition either way. The word "massage," combined with Dante's hands on her skin, well...
    That wasn't losing, was it?
    Nor was it staying away from him. Uninvolved. If anything, it was ratcheting up the connection, ten notches at once.
    Dante grinned. "Doesn't sound like I really win either way."
    "Exactly." She smiled, took a sip of wine. "Your move."
    He slid a pawn forward two spaces.
    Maria leaped her knight over its pawns.
    "Gutsy move," Dante said. "For a girl."
    "You ain't seen nothing yet, buddy."
    He advanced a second pawn. She countered with one of her own. "Where'd you learn how to play?" he asked.
    She shrugged. "I screwed the chess team in high school."
    He hesitated, his fingertips on a pawn, his dark brown eyes studying hers. "I don't believe you for a second."
    She drew herself up a little, blinking in surprise. "Really?"
    "Well, hell, yes, you're a beautiful woman but not a stupid one." He drew out his bishop and aimed it toward her knight. "Or a loose one. You have more character than that."
    Maria didn't say anything for a long moment. She didn't move any pieces, didn't sip her wine. When was the last time a man had