Free Delilah's Flame by Andrea Parnell Page A

“All I could save from the last five years of navy pay. When a man’s had nothing steadier than a rolling deck under him for years, he wants a good horse. The Admiral’s the finest piece of horseflesh west of St. Jo.”
    “Would you sell him?”
    His heavy dark brows flew up. “Sell him? Hell, no! I’ve got plans for the Admiral.” His words slurred, “Ranch...a few good mares.”
    “A ranch costs money.” Tall plans for a man who was little better than a saddle tramp. The Admiral was probably a fleabitten nag. But the horse was apparently the only thing of worth Tabor Stanton owned. And that wouldn’t be for long.
    He clinked the coins from his stack of winnings and slid most of them into a vest pocket. “A few more poker games and who knows.”
    She knew. Delilah fumed beneath her pasted-on smile. He had a high opinion of himself. And this encounter had gone on long enough.
    Delilah placed a hand to her temple to steady her head. How much could one man drink? She could handle perhaps one more glass of sherry. Tabor was several ahead of her. She hoped one more would be enough to drop him.
    “A toast to luck,” she said, sporting a sugary smile. The glasses clinked.
    “Always ready to drink to luck,” Tabor told her. “Your deal.”
    He started to pick up his cards, but Delilah stopped him. “Let’s change the stakes,” she suggested. “Make the game more exciting. Let’s wager something we value.”
    “What would that be?” he asked, mesmerized by what he saw glistening in her sapphire eyes.
    “I believe I have something you’d like to possess,” she said. Tabor slowly nodded. “Suppose you wager the Admiral and your winnings against—” She paced out her words. “—anything you’d like from me.”
    “Anything?” He felt the jolt of desire in his loins. Damn, she knew how to make a fire hotter. “Do I have to name my pleasure before we play?”
    She moistened her lips. “That would make it more interesting. What would you like?”
    But if you love Delilah, there’s a terrible price ...Tabor flooded his lungs with oxygen. Christ! It was all in the song. What a game she played. The lady was a spider. She built a man up, then snatched the ground out from under him. If he had the picture right, she’d win the next hand, have his horse, then call those two buffoons to drag him out. She didn’t want to make love to him. She wanted to castrate him. Damn her! All his passion turned to raw fury. It was time Delilah met a man she couldn’t geld.
    He nodded his consent and gave a smile the devil would have envied. “I’m going to remember this game the rest of my life.” He paused while he rolled a cigarette and lit it. “What I’d like is to have Delilah as my love slave for one entire week.” He exhaled a smoky breath. “Agreed?”
    She didn’t hesitate, though she would have liked to scratch his eyes out for even thinking such a thing. “Agreed,” she said, and winked. “Sounds tantalizing.” The dolt! He’d remember this game the rest of his life, all right.
    Slowly Tabor and Delilah picked up their cards and looked at the hands dealt. Delilah frowned. Tabor hardly restrained himself from bursting out with laughter. She’d dealt him a pair of kings and a pair of queens. She wanted him to fall hard. Her frown deepened. She was a magnificent actress.
    “Cards?” she asked, sounding worried.
    Tabor rubbed his eyes and reeled in his chair. She wanted him drunk. Let her think he was. “I’ll hold what I have,” he mumbled. “Go ahead.”
    Her former clumsiness with the cards vanished. She handled them with expertise and finesse, discarding and quickly dealing herself two more.
    Her expression changed from one of worry to one of joy. “I believe my luck has changed, Tabor,” she said sweetly.
    The corner of his mouth twitched. She just didn’t know how right she was. “I’m sure it has,” he replied. “No changing the ante?”
    “No changing.” Delilah stroked beneath