All I Want Read Free

Addington’s eyes were as cold as Owen remembered, his nose as crooked as Owen had left it four years ago. Addington hadn’t forgiven Owen the slight. Owen hadn’t forgiven Addington the reason behind it.  
    Lady Matilda placed the set of playing cards in the center of the table. She lifted a palm toward Owen, then folded her hands back into her lap.
    He divided the stack into three piles, then placed them back together. His entire body was on edge. He’d led troops, faced down enemy squadrons, taken a bullet in the thigh, and he was never more nervous than when in her presence. It’d been thus since the day they met.
    She’d introduced herself as Lady Matilda. She’d dipped a curtsy, then took him to task when he didn’t bow. Why should he? He’d never been taught to bow. Or been curtsied to. He’d been mortified by his failure to please her. From that day forward, his dream no longer was to be acknowledged by the father he’d never met, but to meet with approval in the eyes of Lady Matilda Kingsley.
    For a short time, he’d even succeeded.
    “Ready?” Her fingers hovered just above the stack of playing cards.
    No. He would never be ready. If he hadn’t been willing to lose the game to Addington, he certainly wasn’t eager to risk losing in front of the woman he most wished to impress.
    “Ready.” He hoped his grimace counted as a smile.
    She turned over the first card and placed it before him.  
    One-eyed Jack. Spades, not hearts. Ten points. Owen rubbed his damp palms down the soft buckskin of his breeches. So far, so good. He held his breath. The next card was hers.  
    Eight of diamonds.  
    Not splendid, but not terrible. He rolled his shoulders back. His score might be closer to twenty-one at the moment, but he wasn’t closer to winning. He needed to be closest to twenty-one without going over.
    “Bets?” Addington called out. His mocking eyes cut to Owen.
    Owen cast him a level stare. The blackguard knew Owen didn’t have anything left to bet. He’d already bet it all. Addington just wanted to parade Owen’s unsuitability in front of Lady Matilda.  
    She was the first to reply, her voice firm. “No more bets. The stakes are high enough.”
    Owen’s spine went rigid. She’d saved him. But she shouldn’t have needed to. A sour taste filled his mouth. Addington had been right after all. Owen wasn’t good enough for her. Yet the truth didn’t stop him from wanting her. Or wanting her to know how he felt. His heart clenched. When he won the game, he would buy her what she desired most. And then… he would file onto a boat and sail back off to war.  
    She lifted the next card and placed it next to his jack of spades.  
    Eight of clubs. Not bad. He was up to eighteen. He would stand here. Taking a hit with anything higher than seventeen was to risk losing it all.  
    Her next card was the ace of spades.  
    His lungs froze. The ace was either one or eleven, which meant she now had nineteen points. She was winning. His skin went clammy. Gambling was a rich man’s pleasure and a poor man’s folly. Never had it been more apparent that he didn’t belong here. His throat was too thick to swallow. But like it or not, he would have to take another hit.
    He inclined his head toward the stack of cards. He did not trust his finger to point at them without shaking.  
    He needed a three. Dear Lord, let him have a three. Surely Fate wouldn’t strip him of his pet, his home, his dignity, and his last moments with his lost love all on the same day.  
    Lady Matilda turned over the final card.
    Even though his eyes were open, even though he was staring right at it, the image did not immediately register in Owen’s mind.
    It didn’t have to. Addington’s crow of delight and sputtering laughter was proof enough.  
    Owen blinked at the card until it swam into focus. Five of hearts. Wrong number.  
    He had lost.
    Lady Matilda reached across the table. “Owen—”
    He leapt to his feet before her