Sydney, the Temptress by Fayrene Preston

Author:Fayrene Preston [Preston, Fayrene]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Regency, Australia, General, Romance, American, Casinos, Games, Gamblers, Historical, Gambling, Fiction, Love Stories
ISBN: 9780553218749
Publisher: Bantam Classic & Loveswept
Published: 1987-08-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

The Wombat was crowded, noisy, and boisterous. Smoke hovered in the air, and scantily clad waitresses barely stuffed into their costumes kept the drinks flowing. Sydney supposed that the owners of The Wombat encouraged drinking to dull the wits of the people who came to gamble, with the expectation that it would increase the house odds.

Her respect for Nicholas suddenly climbed. He allowed no alcoholic beverages served on the floor of his casino. Although he had never said it, she felt instinctively that he wouldn't want anyone to lose money because their ability to think rationally had been affected by alcohol.

Now, where had that thought come from? she wondered, nearly missing a step. She didn't know for sure that that was his reason for keeping the bar separate from the casino. But with her next breath she corrected herself. Yes, she did know why. Nicholas was a man who cared about tiny birds. In his own way he would care about people.

With a disgusted curse a man vacated a chair and Sydney slipped onto it. The Wombat dealt four decks for blackjack, which was fine with her since that was what she had been playing on the Isle of Charron. This was going to be easier than she had thought, she assured herself, and as if to prove her right, she won consistently the first hour, quickly doubling her money. Her hopes soared. If she were playing recklessly, it was only because she wanted to win quickly. And it wasn't as if her tactics weren't working, she thought as she raked in another pile of chips.

Waiting for the dealer to deal the next hand, Sydney noticed the glass of champagne one of the waitresses had placed at her elbow sometime earlier. Since the heavy smoke had begun to bother her, she took a sip, welcoming the coolness as it slid down her throat.

"Why don't you let me order you a real drink?" the man next to her offered in a slurred voice that indicated he had had quite a few drinks. He held up his glass for her inspection. "Scotch is what you should have. Champagne is for wimps."

"Then I guess that's what I am. Besides, I'm not going to drink. I was just a little thirsty, that's all."

"You sure don't play like a wimp," he noted admiringly. "You can play right up there with the best of them."

"Thank you."

He leaned closer and she caught the full strength of his Scotch-laden breath. "My name's Harvey, by the way, and you're a real beaut." He burped, then continued. "I think you should come home with me tonight."

"I appreciate the, uh, invitation, Harvey, but no, thank you."

Sydney won the next hand and the next, and her euphoria climbed. She hardly noticed when she began to lose, because at first her losses were minimal compared to her winnings. But soon she was down forty thousand dollars, and she forced herself to stop and take stock of the situation. Sipping from the ever-full

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