Free To Dare the Duke of Dangerfield by Bronwen Evans

of your delectable, milky skin until you’re purring with pleasure? When I finally take your taut nipple into my mouth and suckle, you’ll scream my name.”  
    The husky words saw her wits scatter.
    Her corset was too tight. She couldn’t breathe—and when she did, the scent of him invaded her senses, clouding her thinking. She felt her stomach flip, and heat pool between her thighs.
    She was going to lose.
    “When you come to my bed,” he whispered. “I’ll introduce you to such passion your head will spin.”
    It was already spinning. The passion already burned. It was hot and needy, just like the tension pooling in her belly. She had never been so aware of her breasts, or of the way a man could worship her body with just his eyes. Her small breasts, for once, felt trapped behind her clothing, begging to be freed.  
    Begging for his bare hands to glide across—
    She looked into his eyes and saw triumph. He knew he could make her body crave for, burn for, combust with want of his touch. And he knew— knew —she would be thinking of nothing else all evening.
    “Harlow.” Henry’s stern voice broke the spell.  
    With shame filling her body, and any advantage now in tatters—like her pride—Caitlin slipped out from between his hardness and the bookcase, away from the disturbing essence of him.
    She walked toward the faro table taking big gulps of air. She could hear Henry’s murmured chastisement… something about behaving like a gentleman. Gentleman? Harlow didn’t know the meaning of the word.
    The game commenced on time and Caitlin couldn’t help the fleeting image of her house passing before her eyes. If she could only win this game. There was no way Ace of Spades would lose to Dangerfield’s stallion Champers . She’d done her research. Champers was the fastest horse in his stable—in fact, the fastest horse he owned. Champers had also been entered into the Two-Thousand Guineas at Newmarket.
    Her own light weight and small size gave her added speed. A win tonight would take the pressure off the baking challenge.  
    She gathered her wits and, as the first turn played, remembered her strategy.  
    She started conservatively, watched Harlow, and matched his bets. However, as they got nearer to the middle of the pack, she knew she’d have to change strategy if she were to win. She needed more coppers than he before they got down to the last few cards. If she were well ahead, Harlow would have to risk more on the last few turns.
    To her frustration, the rest of the turns progressed evenly. When she won big, the next hand she lost big as well. Harlow won consistently. Not large amounts, but enough to see him inch into the lead. She was not losing, but neither was she gaining enough ground on his winnings. He watched every bet she made and countered it accordingly.  
    Finally they arrived at the moment of truth. The next turn would decide the game. They were down to the last three cards. She knew they were the Ten of Hearts, the Three of Spades and the King of Diamonds.  
    “I’ve taught you well,” he said affably. He stared at the pile of coppers in front of her and then at his pile of the same relative size. “But are you willing to risk it all at the end? Women are not known for their bravado.”
      “I believe I’ve aptly demonstrated bravado by accepting this wager.” With that statement she looked at his current bet. Harlow had wagered his entire pile of coppers on the King of Diamonds.  
    Caitlin closed her eyes to block out the glittering dare in Harlow’s sinful eyes. He was goading her into making a mistake. If she simply matched his bet, then he would win as he had slightly more coppers than her. If she simply bet everything on the chance a higher card was dealt—a two in three chance—she’d win if the losing card turned up happened to be the Three of Spades.
    There was only one way to beat Harlow if the King of Diamonds was the player’s card. She couldn’t simply match