Alan appeared appropriately contrite. “Yes, my lord.”
With the red ball re-spotted, Anne continued potting it several more times, not always scoring a cannon, thank God, but Colin began to worry he’d underestimated her.
As she positioned herself for the next shot, he crept up behind her and peered over her shoulder.
She straightened and frosted him with a glare. “Are you trying to intimidate me?”
Adopting an innocent expression, he held up his hands in defense and stepped back.
However, it appeared to discombobulate her just enough. The spin she put on her cue ball had it careening off, missing the red by a fraction, and bouncing impotently against the side cushion.
Now I have you.“What a shame.” He weighted the words with scathing sarcasm.
“Score is sixteen points for Lady Manning, six points for Lord Manning,” Alan announced with noticeably less enthusiasm.
“Since I’m feeling magnanimous, would you like to reconsider the additional five points, Lord Grump?”
“No need,” he said with forced cheerfulness and hoped it was true.
Years of concentration paid off, and he potted the red two more times and scored a cannon off her cue ball each time, tying the score. His skill had left her cue ball on the table each time, although it currently teetered precariously at the edge of the right corner pocket.
He could go for the easy shot and pot the red ball for three points. But that would leave him one short of the twenty he needed to win. As she had done earlier, he walked around the table, calculating in his mind how he could accomplish the more complicated shot for five points.
No risk, no reward. Not only was he competitive, but he dearly wanted that reward. Bent over, he took several deep breaths, trying to ignore the scent of sweet pea that seemed suddenly stronger. He lined up his shot, but the moment his stick slid forward, Anne blew in his ear.
The ball went wild, completely missing both balls and forfeiting his turn. Colin banged the cue stick on the table. Fury edged his voice into something harsh and dangerous. “What was that?! You did that on purpose.”
She had the audacity to appear confused. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”
Nose-to-nose, or rather chest to nose, he glared down at her.
Eyes as blue as the rare sunny skies lifted to his, and his attention dipped helplessly to her mouth. Soft, pink, luscious, and exquisitely kissable. He suppressed the familiar surge of irritation, and his ire changed into something just as intense, and probably no safer for Anne.
“Leave us,” he barked at his footman, his gaze neverleaving Anne’s.
The man scurried from the room and had the good sense to close the door behind him.
“If the only way you can win is to cheat?—”
“I did nothing more than you did. But if you wish, you may take the shot again. Do you remember the placement of your cue ball?”
Of course he didn’t. She had driven all rational thought from his mind. “No.”
“Pity.” She studied the tip of her cue stick. “But if you wish, you may play in hand.”
He’d like to takeherin hand. He paused as a particularly inappropriate idea popped into his head. Oh, he couldn’t. Shouldn’t.
He paused again. And why not? The door was closed. She was his wife, and this was his home. “I have a better idea.” With a sweep of the cue stick, he cleared the surface nearest to them, then picked her up and laid her on the table.
“Do you still want that puppy for the girls?”
Those blue eyes widened, and for once in her life, she appeared speechless. Which was a ridiculous notion. After all, it was Anne.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving us both what we want.”
CHAPTER 27
