“Do you not wish to see my cards?” She queried softly.
All eyes turned to the table as she spread her cards in an arc. Surprised gasps rippled all around them.
She’d won.
Furry Teeth let out an oath.
She leaned back in her chair in the manner of a victorious queen and leveled her gaze on him. “A wager is a wager,” she echoed. “I believe I’ll collect my winnings now.”
Furry Teeth began stripping off his clothes in angry movements, revealing his pale skinny limbs. Entirely naked, he quickly sank back down in his chair and sat there sulking much like the other two men who had already shed their clothes.
Aurelia lifted an eyebrow at him. “Well, my lord? Do you not honor your bets?”
“Honor?” He chuckled low and deep, the sound raw and prickly in his throat. “That is not a word I expect you to understand.”
Her smile turned brittle. “Are you delaying on purpose? The hour grows late, my lord.”
Max shoved himself to his feet, sending the chair skidding backward. He yanked off his jacket, cravat and vest, his eyes never leaving her face. Reaching behind his neck, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside in one smooth move.
A woman nearby made a hissing sound of approval.
The corner of his mouth kicked up in acknowledgment. He knew he was well-formed. He spent a goodly amount of time riding, fencing, swimming, fighting. He was not ashamed of his body. That said, he did not appreciate being forced to undress so that he could be ogled and made a spectacle of.
Anger, hot as molten rock, poured through him. It was in his every hard movement. The crowd fell silent around him as he removed one boot, then the next. His hands went to the front of his trousers and hesitated.
She watched him, her throat working as she swallowed.
“Is this what you want?” he demanded.
The color rode high in her face, crowding the edges of her domino. She was getting more than she bargained for. She realized that now.
He leaned across the table, flattening his palms on the baize surface and bringing his face inches from her. “This is what you’ve been so curious about? Is it not?”
Her breath escaped in a sharp hitch. “You flatter yourself.”
“You set the stake, not I. Shall I satisfy your curiosity at last?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Now you can infuse some reality into your artwork. That will be a refreshing bit of change, won’t it?”
Her nostrils flared. Her words escaped in a low hiss for his ears alone, “There is truth in my drawings.”
Her words struck him like steel striking flint. She was that same little witch who’d created that caricature and left it for public ridicule. He laughed once, hard and unforgiving. “You’re about to witness the truth. Pay close heed so next time I expect you to get it right.”
“I’ve drawn you once. No need to repeat the task.”
He tsked. “Come now. I fascinate you as a subject. You know it. I know it.”
“Rubbish,” she spat, her gaze sparking fire through the eyeholes of her domino.
“Shall I prove it?” Shoving back off the table, he dropped his hands to the front of his trousers. Tearing loose the buttons, he shoved them down and stood naked before the room. Unlike the other men, he did not sink into his chair. He let the room have a long look. He let her drink her fill.
Her mouth popped wide in a little o. Those eyes of hers traveled over him, missing nothing. She looked everywhere. Especially there.