The Spoils of Allsveil: Dark Heart Heroes #2 by S.N. McKibben

slipped the stick free and handed it to him. He stared at me with his hand still in the air.
    I took his bishop and said, “Take off your boots.”
    Darrin settled back. “That’s two items.”
    “Fine. One boot then.”
    The old Darrin, the one with the bright smile that consumed his entire face, slowly returned. His next move was just as stupid as the other, but he took another piece. “Off with the surcoat.”
    Slipping my arms through the holes I handed it to him. “You’re not playing to win, are you?”
    Relieving me of my outerwear, Darrin laughed. “Depends on what you mean by ‘win.’”
    I pressed my hand against my chest. “Oh.”
    He was trying to undress me—us, and I was falling into his trap. His devil’s grin confirmed it. Sitting primly upon my seat, I changed my tactics. If that was his game, I’d meet him every step of the way. Choosing carefully, I moved and took his knight, making sure he couldn’t claim any of my pieces. “Your other boot.”
    Darrin pulled his heavy dress boot off with a flourish. “What are you smiling about?”
    Pointing to his toes I said, “You’re barefoot. No socks?”
    “You find that funny?” He looked at the board and moved a pawn.
    “Why yes, I do.” I played into what he thought would trap me and took another game -crippling piece. “Coat please.”
    He handed it to me and it felt as if we’d been helping each other out of our clothes for years.
    “You’re very good at this,” he said, after I’d taken his waistcoat, baldric, sword, and belt. I still had on my dress, belt, and shoes. I’d only lost my underthings and a hairpin.
    I swiped his other knight off the board. “Tunic.”
    Not bothering to get up, Darrin pulled his shirt over his head and there before my eyes was a half-naked man—a muscular, pale, gorgeous man sitting in nothing but pants. The muscles of his shoulder bunched when he leaned forward and set his garment on the pile next to my chair. I had no idea muscles were corded. Relaxed but aware, I flipped my hair behind me and Darrin tracked the motion with a hunter’s eye. It made me wonder if I was still playing into his hands. If I could gain the king piece, I could end this madness. But I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.
    “I like how you squirm in your chair.” Darrin lounged without any compunction about his manners. His hips were thrust out and enticing. My mind went completely blank.
    Darrin sat up. “My turn.”
    Those words sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. His next move surrendered a piece to me while taking one of mine. “Skirt,” he whispered.
    I wore two under my dress. “Which one?”
    “The one closest to your skin.” Darrin swallowed and gritted his teeth. His heavy breathing made me nervous.
    Rising to my feet, I pulled up the lower part of my dress and the skirt just beneath to expose the blue underskirt. Darrin’s attention felt as intense as the summer heat. He took the hard-won prize with delicacy and reverence. Balling the skirt, he buried his nose into it and inhaled deeply as a drowning man coming up for air. The intimacy of his gesture forced my eyes away.
    On the board Darrin had left me only two options. I could place him in check and stop the game or take his queen and remove the last item of clothing he had on. Only a genius could have backed me into a corner like this. “You are better than Paul,” I whispered.
    Wary dark eyes watched me. His expression remained neutral while I contemplated my next move. The corded stomach muscles disappearing under the top seam of his pants made my decision. I slid my rook and took his queen off the board. His eyes lit with dawning appreciation and a slow predatory smile crossed his lips.
    “Pants.” The word echoed off the stone.
    Darrin pulled himself up to his full height. Staring at me, playing with the knots in his breeches, he loosened the top, let the last article of bartering fall to his feet, and stepped out of his pants. His legs went