didn’t win those two games with hard work. You got lucky on some wild moves. You have an extremely off-the-wall manner of playing, if you don’t mind my saying so."
"You’re just envious of my inborn talent. The way you play, a person would think the fate of the nation hinged on your next move. You’re much too serious about the game, Adrian. You’d have more fun if you’d just loosen up a bit."
He looked at her, light eyes intent. "I’m afraid I tend to be a serious sort of man."
"Not given to fun and games?"
"No."
Sara caught her breath as she realized that they were suddenly inexplicably discussing more than a game of checkers. For reasons she didn’t want to analyze she was afraid of the new direction.
Desperately she tried to find a casual way of turning the conversation around before it strayed into the realm of the personal again. "Well, we’ll see whose approach works best with this next game. I warn you, I’m going to be at my most off-the-wall!"
"In the long run, strategy and planning always succeed more often than wild luck, Sara."
"Prove it," she challenged rashly.
He shrugged and proceeded to do so. Fifteen minutes later Sara was left staring in vast annoyance at the board. She didn’t have one single playing piece left on it. Adrian had beaten her with cool, deliberate ease, never relenting for a moment. Every move from first to last had been plotted and carried out with ruthless intent. Her cheerfully haphazard approach had netted her only a few of his playing pieces. Even those, she was convinced, he had deliberately sacrificed at various points to lure her into traps he had set.
"I demand a replay! You don’t play fair. You play exactly like my uncle."
"What’s unfair about it?" he asked, tossing the checkers back into the box.
"I don’t know, but there must be something sneaky and underhanded about all that strategy," she complained. "It must be quite terrifying when you and Uncle Lowell play together."
"The games tend to last a long time," Adrian said with a faint smile.
"Who wins?"
"We’re fairly evenly matched."
"You mean you win frequently?" she asked curiously.
"Umm."
"That’s interesting. I don’t know of anyone who can consistently beat Uncle Lowell at checkers or any other game. But sometimes I can take him," she added proudly.
"With one of your wild moves?"
"Yes." She grinned. "The thing about people who always use intense strategy is that you can occasionally upset them with my technique."
"Only occasionally. Not consistently," Adrian informed her politely. "You got lucky twice tonight, but that was about the best you could do, playing with your style."
"Something tells me that people who play with your style will never appreciate people who play my way."
And on that note, Sara decided suddenly, she had probably better make her gracious, unprovocative exit to the bedroom he had given her earlier.
Chapter Five
Adrian watched moodily as Sara went off to bed and wondered how he was going to get to sleep
himself. When she had disappeared into the bedroom, he sprawled in an armchair and considered
having another brandy. He needed something to squelch the restlessness that seemed to be thrumming through his veins.
This sensation was far worse than the disoriented feeling he’d had when he’d finally finished the book and put it in the mail. Then he’d felt suddenly at loose ends, as if everything had ended too quickly. But tonight’s uneasiness was multiplied a hundred times by the dull ache of desire.
He could not remember the last time he’d desired a woman as intensely as he wanted Sara.
Adrian stared across the room at the waiting brandy bottle and decided against pouring himself another glass. He needed it, but this was not the night to indulge. Not when he was standing guard over a lady who had no real conception of the kind of trouble that might be waiting outside the door.
"Kincaid, you old devil, you really pulled out all the stops this time,
"You’re just envious of my inborn talent. The way you play, a person would think the fate of the nation hinged on your next move. You’re much too serious about the game, Adrian. You’d have more fun if you’d just loosen up a bit."
He looked at her, light eyes intent. "I’m afraid I tend to be a serious sort of man."
"Not given to fun and games?"
"No."
Sara caught her breath as she realized that they were suddenly inexplicably discussing more than a game of checkers. For reasons she didn’t want to analyze she was afraid of the new direction.
Desperately she tried to find a casual way of turning the conversation around before it strayed into the realm of the personal again. "Well, we’ll see whose approach works best with this next game. I warn you, I’m going to be at my most off-the-wall!"
"In the long run, strategy and planning always succeed more often than wild luck, Sara."
"Prove it," she challenged rashly.
He shrugged and proceeded to do so. Fifteen minutes later Sara was left staring in vast annoyance at the board. She didn’t have one single playing piece left on it. Adrian had beaten her with cool, deliberate ease, never relenting for a moment. Every move from first to last had been plotted and carried out with ruthless intent. Her cheerfully haphazard approach had netted her only a few of his playing pieces. Even those, she was convinced, he had deliberately sacrificed at various points to lure her into traps he had set.
"I demand a replay! You don’t play fair. You play exactly like my uncle."
"What’s unfair about it?" he asked, tossing the checkers back into the box.
"I don’t know, but there must be something sneaky and underhanded about all that strategy," she complained. "It must be quite terrifying when you and Uncle Lowell play together."
"The games tend to last a long time," Adrian said with a faint smile.
"Who wins?"
"We’re fairly evenly matched."
"You mean you win frequently?" she asked curiously.
"Umm."
"That’s interesting. I don’t know of anyone who can consistently beat Uncle Lowell at checkers or any other game. But sometimes I can take him," she added proudly.
"With one of your wild moves?"
"Yes." She grinned. "The thing about people who always use intense strategy is that you can occasionally upset them with my technique."
"Only occasionally. Not consistently," Adrian informed her politely. "You got lucky twice tonight, but that was about the best you could do, playing with your style."
"Something tells me that people who play with your style will never appreciate people who play my way."
And on that note, Sara decided suddenly, she had probably better make her gracious, unprovocative exit to the bedroom he had given her earlier.
Chapter Five
Adrian watched moodily as Sara went off to bed and wondered how he was going to get to sleep
himself. When she had disappeared into the bedroom, he sprawled in an armchair and considered
having another brandy. He needed something to squelch the restlessness that seemed to be thrumming through his veins.
This sensation was far worse than the disoriented feeling he’d had when he’d finally finished the book and put it in the mail. Then he’d felt suddenly at loose ends, as if everything had ended too quickly. But tonight’s uneasiness was multiplied a hundred times by the dull ache of desire.
He could not remember the last time he’d desired a woman as intensely as he wanted Sara.
Adrian stared across the room at the waiting brandy bottle and decided against pouring himself another glass. He needed it, but this was not the night to indulge. Not when he was standing guard over a lady who had no real conception of the kind of trouble that might be waiting outside the door.
"Kincaid, you old devil, you really pulled out all the stops this time,
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