The Billionaire's Scandalous Marriage. Emma Darcy

eyes, which hadn’t left hers for a second, simmered a sexy challenge. “I think I’d like the experience of being taken by your sister, Peter.”

      Charlotte burned.

      Damien Wynter wasn’t talking poker. He’d looked her over, decided he found her desirable, liked the spice that she was engaged to another man and supposedly unattainable, and was now laying out his line, dangling the bait of beating him at a game based on taking chances.

      The outrageous arrogance of the man was insufferable. Her mind sizzled with ways to puncture his ego. Before she could come up with the perfect putdown, Mark intervened.

      “You know, I’d like to watch that,” he said musingly. “Are spectators allowed at this game?”

      Annoyance sharpened her tongue. “Mark, I don’t want to play. I want to be with you.”

      “Mark can come and watch, Charlotte,” Peter put in, suddenly eager to oblige his friend’s whim. “He can sit right at your shoulder.”

      “That’s not the same,” she shot at her brother.

      “Truly, I would enjoy it, darling,” Mark pushed, smiling persuasively as he added, “It’s a part of your life that’s still a mystery to me. I’d like the chance to watch and understand what you were talking about…the percentages.”

      “I thought we were going to dance,” she protested, hating his unwitting collusion with a man who would take her if the opportunity presented itself.

      “We can dance any night,” he soothed.

      “Course you can,” Peter said dismissively. “Come on, Charlotte. You know you love to play. It’s in your blood.”

      The sense of being railroaded increased the angry tension Damien Wynter had evoked, and Peter sounded so like their father with his blood comment, she almost stamped her foot in exasperation. “It’s just a game, Peter. I can choose to play or not. I don’t need it in my life!”

      “Sorry, darling,” Mark back-pedalled in concern. “Of course, it’s your choice.”

      “But it would please all of us if you played,” Damien slid in silkily.

      Painting her as a selfish spoilt brat if she refused.

      Charlotte grimly took stock. Mark could watch a poker match on television if he was so keen to understand percentages. That seemed like a very specious argument to her. More likely, the drawcard for him was being with Peter and Damien Wynter—part of the privileged circle at her father’s poker game.

      A nasty suspicion crawled around her mind. Was Mark using her as a stepping stone to where he wanted to be?

      She didn’t want to think that. She didn’t want to but…why leap at the chance of being Damien’s guest in Africa?

      Damn Damien Wynter! He’d already spoilt her night with Mark.

      “All right! I’m in!” she decided, a reckless streak of belligerence prompting her to take on a straight out fight with the man who had stirred so much unwelcome turmoil inside her.

      “Splendid!” Damien approved, grinning like a wolf seeing the jugular of his victim bared.

      If luck is with me, it’s your blood that will be spilled, Charlotte thought viciously, turning a smile to Mark. “Let me know when you find it boring and I’ll surrender my chips,” she said, deliberately making it known she was indulging her fiancé, no one else.

      Mark touched her cheek in a gentle salute of admiration, his eyes beaming warm pleasure at her. “My brave girl,” he murmured. “I suspect you’ll be swimming amongst sharks at this poker table but I’ll rescue you whenever you say the word.”

      The tightness in Charlotte’s chest eased a little. Mark did love her. It was stupid to get worked up over a few little things that could be put down to natural curiosity. Damien Wynter somehow emanated a magnetism that was skewing her thoughts.

      As she turned to her brother and said, “Lead on, Peter. We’ll follow you down to the saloon,” she caught Damien staring at Mark as though measuring him for deep, dark annihilation.

      So much for wanting him as his guest in Africa! He’d probably feed Mark to the lions so he could have her to himself! That was what he was angling for. Was his pride wounded because she hadn’t instantly been smitten by him, worshipping at his feet for who and what he was, not to mention how much he was worth? Men like him always thought they could get any woman.

      Not this one, she silently vowed, aiming the message straight at his back as Peter steered him away from the railing, heading for the lower saloon. Moreover, she wouldn’t engage in any contest with him at the poker table. He’d like nothing better than for her to take him on.

      Thwarting him should be the plan, not trying to beat him. If he was betting on his cards, she’d withdraw from betting on her own, regardless of how promising they were. No blood spilled…no grounds for any future comeback.

      Satisfied that she had worked out a sensible course—one that Damien Wynter wouldn’t like one bit—Charlotte felt calmer and considerably more confident of handling the situation without any heartburn.

      Music started in the upper saloon just as they reached the top of the stairs. The DJ had put on a great upbeat track to get the guests into a dancing mood. Charlotte smiled ironically to herself as she recognised Nancy Sinatra’s voice belting out “I’ll Be Your Good-Time Girl”.

      She might have lived up to that for Mark tonight, if he’d wanted to dance instead of watching a poker game.

      But she was never going to live that role for Damien Wynter!

      CHAPTER FOUR

      DAMIEN had lost all trace of the jetlag he’d been suffering earlier. His whole body was buzzing with exhilaration. Pitting himself against someone else always gave him an adrenaline rush. That it was a woman this time made it more exciting, especially a woman as hard to get as Charlotte Ramsey.

      Peter gave him an arch look as they descended the stairs together, asking in a low voice, “Do I detect a very determined personal interest in my sister?”

      “Would you have a problem with my pursuing it?”

      Brothers could be sticky about their younger sisters. Damien didn’t want to mess with the Ramsey family in any negative way. Peter was a good friend to have, both personally and professionally, and his father would make a very bad enemy. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to exercise any caution where getting Charlotte for himself was concerned.

      A carefree grin answered him. “Won’t affect me in any way whatsoever. But be warned, my friend. Charlotte is one hell of a fighter.”

      Damien grinned back. “That fires me up to win, Peter.”

      “If you’re intent on winning, take nothing for granted,” came the swift advice. “I helped get her to the poker game for you but don’t think for a minute she’ll be easy pickings. She’d stand up to Dad any day of the week. Very strong-willed, my sister.”

      Definitely no pushover. That was already evident to him. Which meant Mark Freedman must have worked hard at discovering the cracks in her armour, sliding through them to reach her heart and turn it his way. No doubt the prize was worth some intense work to a man who was greedy for the good life, and the pay-off wedding was only two weeks away.

      “She shouldn’t be with Freedman,” Damien muttered.

      “Not my cup of tea, either,” Peter ruefully agreed. “But he sweetens her life, Damien. And you’re not sugar.”

      No, he wasn’t. And he wasn’t about to sugar-coat anything, either. There was no time for that. He had to act fast, change the parameters of Charlotte’s thinking, strike at the heart, not seduce his way in. Sweetness could cloy after a while and his instincts were telling him that tart was more to her natural taste.

      “I’m