Chapter 17

Wiley drew in a shocked breath of protest, but choked on her own saliva. While Jayems thumped her on the back, Keilor regarded her intently. “Strip poker?”

Jasmine looked down and tapped her finger on the table, her nerves jangling a warning. And whether she liked it or not, a dangerous thrill of anticipation. Would it be so bad to lose?

Mentally chastising herself for daring to think such a stupid thing, she said, “I’ll tell you after the cards are on the table.” If things went as planned, it wouldn’t matter anyway, because she wouldn’t be in a position to pay up.

He looked skeptical, but one look at Wiley frantically waving, “no, no!” and shaking her head at Jasmine and his expression turned speculative.

With a graceful gesture, he tipped his cards onto the table.

“Heh, heh!” Jasmine gloated as she tossed her own hand down and raked in the pot. She threw back her head and hooted. “Whoo, hoo!” Jumping up, she did a little war dance, then grabbed Wiley in a headlock and rubbed her head with her knuckles, chortling. “I win, I win!”

“Is she always like this?” Jayems demanded in disbelief, watching Jasmine dance a jig around the room.

Wiley snorted. “Only when she wins.”

Breathless, Jasmine came back to the table and began raking coins and shells into the drawstring pouch. Keilor dropped his hand over hers, pinning it to the table. When her startled eyes met his he asked, “What did I just lose?”

Pinned at an awkward angle over the table, Jasmine had nowhere to hide her hot face. “Ah…” Heat licked at her from his touch, making her tongue thick, and for a moment she felt a pang of regret. Losing might have been the smartest thing she’d ever done. She cleared her throat. “Strip poker is played in private. The ante is...the player’s clothes.”

Keilor sucked in a breath and his fingers tightened. He slowly let her go and leaned back, contemplating the ceiling with a resigned expression.

Somewhat subdued, Jasmine finished collecting her loot and then helped to clear the table. With everyone working at once, everything was quickly put away. As soon as it was done, the ladies took their winnings and left.

Keilor poured them both another drink and then saluted Jayems. “A greedy man would regret letting them win that last hand.” Their people had brought the game from Earth long ago, and cards were a popular pastime among their people. The ladies should have been more suspicious when they found the cards in Jaymes’ room.

Jayems smiled faintly. “Caught you by surprise with her offer, did she?” Keilor swore softly and gulped his drink, making Jayems laugh. His expression sobered. “How else am I to give them an allowance? Rihlia won’t accept anything from me.”

“Hm, well, she seemed to be accepting your kisses well enough at the end.”

A half-smile curved Jayems’ mouth. “And Jasmine yours.”

Keilor took a deep breath as desire flashed through him. “Bite me, I didn’t think I’d survive much more of that. The charmer had to win, and swiftly.”

Jayems chuckled and poured them both another drink. “To women,” he proposed, raising his glass.

“To relief.” Keilor countered wickedly, and clinked his glass to Jayems’. A thought occurred to him and he cocked his head, causing the loose strands of his black hair to brush across his shoulders. “How do you intend to let the charmer spend her allowance? It’s not as if she can wander through the markets.”

Jayems frowned and propped his chin on his fist. “I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose I’ll have to invite the merchants to bring their wares here.” He brushed his thumb across his lower lip, squinting. “What sorts of things do you think two women raised on Earth might be tempted by?”

“How should I know?” Keilor waved a hand in dismissal. “Females seem to wallow in silks and satins. Send for a dressmaker. Arrange for fittings. Find a perfumer and jewelers; any merchant selling fripperies should do.”

Jayems shook his head at him. “Such promising husband material,” he mocked. “Yet so ugly.”

“Tell that to Jasmine.” He preened. “That woman couldn’t keep her hands off me.”

Smirking, Jayems pointed out, “She was drinking. You might have been a stag for all she knew.”

Keilor’s smile flashed. “I certainly felt as randy. Too much more of her and we would have both disappeared under the table.”

“And Rihlia would have been after you with a knife…”

***

“There is no justice,” Jasmine grumbled the next morning when she entered Jayems’ suite and saw her chipper poker companions. Her head felt ready to split and her mood was rotten. She felt as if she’d had ten shots instead of just three.

Wiley’s lips twitched as she poured them both a cup of tea. “Pain killer hasn’t kicked in yet, huh?”

Her answer was a grunt as Jasmine rested her elbows on the table and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes.

“I should have warned you,” Jayems told her, contrite. “Haunt are notoriously difficult to inebriate. Our liquors are made strong to compensate. I did not remember at first that you might become ill.”

Jasmine glowered at Wiley. “Scruffy alien. Should have known all these years that you were cheating.”

Wiley chuckled.

Slitting her eyes, Jasmine peered at Keilor, who was dressed casually in loose trousers and a dark green, long sleeved shirt. His hair was loose

today, and he looked better than she could bear to look at so early into a hangover. “What’s the occasion? Are all your uniforms in the wash?” she asked nastily and then winced when her head throbbed in rebuke.

He raised a brow. “Our family is arriving today, and I’ve taken the day off.” He nodded at Wiley. “Her mother, Lady Rhapsody, will be here in time for dinner.”

Wiley blanched.

Jasmine jerked upright and hissed at the crushing pain. She grabbed her head. White lights flashed behind her eyes and she grit her teeth, panting.

Someone picked her up and carried her to the couch. Something sweet and cloying was waved under her nose, and then she was out.