Free Always by Iris Johansen Page B

she found that Donahue was an expert not only at checkers and chess, but at poker and gin rummy as well. He played with a quiet concentration and a boyish zest that made it a pleasure to compete with him even when she lost—something that happened with depressing frequency.
    At the end of the second evening of this cruel and unusual punishment, Lisa pushed back her chair and shook her head ruefully. “Skunkedagain. Where did you learn to play so damned well? I’m not at all sure you haven’t lied to me, Clancy. You couldn’t have had time to learn all these skills and have a career, too.”
    “Checkers I learned in a campaign in Southeast Asia when I was eighteen. Karim was a chess fanatic and always looking for someone to play. Philip El Kabbar hooked me on mahjongg. Poker was always one—”
    She held up her hand to stop him. “I’m sorry I asked. Is there any game in which you aren’t expert?”
    He tilted his head consideringly. “Monopoly, maybe. I’ve only played that once or twice with Sabrina’s son. Do you want me to send to town for a set?”
    “Are you kidding? That’s a big business game, and you’ve played it for real in one form or another since you were a kid. We can’t play Clue for the same reason.” Smiling, she stood up. “I’ll think about tic-tac-toe while I make coffee. At least there wouldn’t be a winner.”
    He frowned in sudden concern. “Should Ihave let you win? I didn’t think you’d want that.”
    She shook her head. “No, I can take it. Though perhaps in a little less massive doses.” She turned toward the kitchen. “Next time I get a sunburn I’m going to read and improve my mind.”
    Clancy rose to his feet and trailed after her into the kitchen. “Next time I may be in a position to keep you amused in other ways. There is a game that has only one rule and everyone wins.”
    She glanced warily over her shoulder. “What game?”
    “Pleasure,” he said softly. “Wanna play?”
    She looked away. Caught again. Clancy could go on for hours being the perfect companion, teasing, casual, almost avuncular. Then, when she least expected it, he would slip in a remark like that and suddenly she would feel a bolt of sexual awareness that was like a hand stroking her. She wished she hadn’t thought of that simile. It reminded her of the times during the last two days when she’d satacross the card table and watched his hands as they shifted a chess piece or drummed lazily on the table as he waited for her to move. Those broad, capable hands that had moved on her thigh, burning her.… Quickly she blocked the memory. “You’d probably stack the deck,” she said as she crossed the room and opened the coffee cannister.
    “Only if it would give you the edge.” He sat down on the stool at the breakfast bar. “I don’t think you’d mind my letting you win at that game.”
    Lisa’s hand trembled as she measured the coffee into the coffeemaker. Suddenly the sexual tension between them was vibrantly alive again. Most of the time she was conscious of it only as a subliminal force, until Clancy chose to strip off the gloves and bring it nakedly to the forefront. Strip. Naked. Damn, she had to keep away from words that brought images to mind. Clancy’s broad naked chest feathered with soft springy hair. His hard stomach and powerful thighs.
    “You’re putting in too much coffee,” Clancysaid softly. “Unless you’ve decided you need an overload of caffeine to keep you awake tonight.”
    “No. I wasn’t thinking, I guess.” She moistened her lips. She had been thinking too much, blast it. “I don’t really want it, anyway. Why don’t we just turn in?”
    “Okay.” He stood up. “You seem a little nervous. Is there something wrong?”
    “Jail fever. I need to get out of the house.” She turned to face him. “I need to get away from Paradise Cay. Martin hasn’t shown up. He’s probably half a world away from here. Let me go, Clancy.”
    He shook his head.