Texas Hold Him Read Free Page B

bad start, but he had to lose this one. It never set well with
     the others for him to start out winning. Lose two hands, win one and lose two more—then clean out their wallets. His victims
     never saw it coming.
    He stayed in the game until the dealer laid the next four cards on the table, and the river card revealed another jack.
    Damn.
    He laid his cards facedown on the table and slid them toward the dealer. “Fold,” he said, with a slow shake of his head.
    He watched with interest as the hand played out. The winner, with his whopping pair of eights, raked in his earnings. The
     others no doubt thought he studied the game, but in fact he studied them. Within thirty minutes,he knew the tells and playing styles of every man at the table.
    Time to win.
    He accepted his drink from the saloon girl, trying to remember if he’d slept with her. She sure acted like he had, but he
     couldn’t think about that right now. So far he’d lost more than he’d won, and he never ended the night in negative numbers.
     He picked up his hand, careful to mask all emotion from his face before he made his wager.
    “Mr. Straights?” A frighteningly familiar voice caught his attention.
    He grimaced and reluctantly looked up to the woman who stood by his shoulder. The crazy lady who’d attacked his door that
     morning waited beside him with reticule in hand. They really needed to be more careful about whom they allowed aboard.
    “Good evening, Miss Mace,” he said, surprised he remembered her name. “Back to wreak vengeance on another part of the boat?
     I’m told the paddle wheel has been a bit fresh lately.”
    She squared her shoulders and raised her chin a notch. “I realize this morning you were a little preoccupied.” She blushed
     prettily and glanced away for just a second before continuing, “So I thought it would be more convenient to speak with you
     this evening.”
    He lifted a brow. “Well, Miss Mace, as you can see, I’m busy right now as well. Maybe some other time.” He had no desire to
     get involved with someone’s Sunday school teacher, regardless of how pretty she was. He returned his attention to the game.
     Maybe his rudeness would put her off once and for all.
    It didn’t.
    “Then I shall wait.” She stepped back to stand against the wall just a few feet away from the table, directly in his line
     of vision.
    He couldn’t help noticing how out of place she appeared, clutching her reticule in front of her like a lifeline to the world
     of decency. The dark blue dress she wore didn’t hide the lush curves of her body, despite its modest cut. Though it was of
     expensive materials, the slight wear indicated it had seen better days.
    Her pretty face had no paint, nor did it need any. No glittering jewels flashed around her slender neck or adorned the curling
     blonde hair that had a tendril or two escaping from her chignon. Her demeanor bespoke a true Southern princess, probably dethroned
     by the war, now forced to consort with all sorts of lowlifes for some reason unbeknownst to him.
    “Dyer? Are you in or out?”
    Charles’s voice brought him back to the table with a start. How could he let his mind drift like that? Many men lost a fortune
     in that kind of concentration lapse, and he’d be damned if he’d be the next.
    “Fold.” Time to take a moment to get his mind back into the game and away from the curvy angel with a mission.
    “Gentlemen, I’ll be back shortly.” He pushed himself away from the table and intentionally walked away from Miss Lottie Mace.
    Hell. He even remembered her first name.
    Dyer stepped outside to the deck and took a deep breath of the warm night air to clear his thoughts.
    “Mr. Straights?” her voice called from the door of the gaming room.
    He sighed. The woman had the tenacity of a tick.Maybe if he let her speak her mind, she’d leave him the hell alone. He turned around and leaned against the rail, tipped back
     the brim of his hat with one finger, then