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Authors: Jackie Ashenden

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary Romance, #Contemporary

Black Knight, White Queen (9 page)

BOOK: Black Knight, White Queen
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Aleks said nothing for a long moment, staring at her. Then he said, “And if I do refuse?”

“That’s the getting to know you thing, remember? If you refuse, I won’t play. I’ll be out of here.”

“You’re assuming you’ll be able to take any of my pieces.”

This was something she’d already taken into account. “I know you’re good, Aleks. But you’ll have to lose a little if you want me to stay.”

He frowned, studying her. Concentrating on her as if she were a problem he was desperate to solve. Oh man, she was such a sucker for the way he looked at her. It made her feel fascinating. She lifted a brow at him. “Well?”

Aleks’s gaze dropped down her body in a long, slow, heated look. “For every piece of yours I take, you remove one item of clothing.”

A small electric thrill went through her. “Strip chess, huh? Sounds to me like you’re getting the hang of this fun thing.”

“And when I win,” he continued, his eyes meeting hers. “You’ll do whatever I ask.”

The thrill turned into a shiver of anticipation. “You’re pretty sure of yourself.”

“I’m a Grandmaster.”

As if that explained everything. “What’s that? Like the head Sith or something?”

He didn’t even smile. Maybe he didn’t get the
Star Wars
reference. “It’s a chess title. Can you even play?”

“I know the moves.” Mostly.

“Then I’ll win.” He said it like it was a done deal. Which it probably was since her chess skills were zero to nil in comparison. But she wasn’t without power here.

Slowly Izzy walked toward him and he watched her come, his eyes never leaving hers. God, just by looking at her he made her feel so good. Strong. Like she could make a difference instead of feeling like she was screaming into the teeth of a howling gale, all her words, her very self, swallowed by the noise of the wind.

She came to a stop right in front of him. “That depends.”

“On what?”

Izzy put a hand on his chest, spread her fingers, felt the heat of his skin beneath the damp cotton of his tank top. “On whether you might like my victory more.”

“And what do you want if you win?”

“You. As my slave.” She glanced up at him. “Ever wonder what it might be like for you to give up control sometime?” And yes, there was the slow burn of his response, quickly smothered, but there all the same.

“No,” he said.

Izzy let her hand drift down the sleek, hard contours of his chest, glad she’d come back here. He intrigued her. So detached and cold on the outside, yet burning up inside. Like her. Except she didn’t have that layer of ice like he did. Oh no, she burned all the way through.

“Liar,” she whispered.

Strong fingers wound themselves in her hair, pulling her head back to meet his gaze. “That’s really what you want if you win?”

“Yeah. Scared?”

“Not particularly. Because you won’t win.”

“Like I said. You might like it. Giving up control isn’t as bad as you think.”

His brows descended, fingers tightening in her hair. “Careful, Izzy.”

“Oh, I’m always careful, Aleks.” She watched his attention drop to her neck, then farther down where the blue silk stretched across her breasts. “Are you going to play then? Or are you just going to pull my hair and stare at my tits?”

“You like it when I do that.”

“Yeah, I do. But that’s not all I like. I like getting to know people too. People like you.”

With unexpected gentleness, Aleks released her. “I don’t understand why you would want to, Izzy. But if that’s what you want, I can live with that.” He stepped back, turned toward the bedroom. “I’m going to have a shower. While I’m doing that, you can set up the board.”

 

Aleks showered on auto-pilot, his head too full of Izzy to pay attention to much else. The game suggestion of hers had been unexpected to say the least, but he wasn’t averse to the idea. A damn sight better than dinner or whatever it was that people did when they got to know one another. Chess was his element. A familiar world where he knew the rules and where he felt most in control. He could play and tell her a few facts about himself. If that’s what he had to do to get her in his bed, then that’s what he’d do.

Dressing impatiently, he went back out into the lounge area to find Izzy had taken the chess set off the coffee table and had put it on the floor. She’d grabbed a couple of cushions from the couch to sit on and now sat with her legs crossed, examining one of the chess pieces.

“These are beautiful,” she said, holding up a white pawn. “Are they handmade?”

“Yes.” He sat on the cushion on the other side of the board.

“Who made them? Did you?”

“Viktor.” Sometimes the old man had given him a chess piece instead of money so that eventually, Aleks had won the whole set. He still remembered the day he’d got the final piece—not the king but the queen. The white queen. The day he’d beaten Viktor in their first game, rather than their third or fourth.

“Wow, he must have been some craftsman.” Izzy ran a finger along the pawn’s fine grain. “Did he make them for you?”

“We need to start the game before you ask any more questions.”

She gave him an annoyed look but didn’t protest. “Okay, who plays what?”

“I play black.”

“What? I don’t get a choice?”

“No. I always play black.” Because black was more of a challenge since white started first.

Izzy frowned. After a moment, she put the pawn she’d been examining down on the board, making the first move.

The game began to unroll in his head like a tapestry, her moves, his. A thousand different possibilities, a thousand different outcomes. Analyzing the game, sometimes thinking twenty moves ahead, was as natural to him as breathing and he did it automatically.

He moved another piece, Izzy’s answering move exactly what he’d expected. Another move from him and he would checkmate her. Had she seen it? Did she know?

He glanced over at her and found her staring back at him.

“You concentrate so fiercely,” she said. “What do you see?”

“You haven’t taken one of my pieces yet so you can’t ask a question.”

“So you’re going to be a hard-ass about the rules, huh?”

“Izzy, look at the board.”

“What?” She glanced down, a puzzled expression on her face. “Shit. You can checkmate me already?”

“It’s called fool’s mate.”

“Oh great, so I’m a fool. Fantastic.” Izzy scowled. “Can I take my move back?”

“No. But in the interest of the game, I won’t checkmate you now.”

“Wow, generous. I guess—”

“I’m going to require something in return though.”

Izzy lifted her chin, gaze narrowing. “What?”

The game was the game, the rules the rules, and he didn’t like messing with either. But he could adapt when necessary. “We’ll treat it as though I’ve taken one of your pieces. Which means you have to remove an item of clothing.”

Her mouth pursed. The bangles on her wrists made a soft chiming noise as she folded her arms. “You
are
going to be a hard-ass about the rules.”

“The rules are there for a reason, Izzy.”

“But it’s not like this is a serious game.”

“Chess is always serious.”

“Man, you’re not kidding. No free passes for amateurs even?”

“You want me to go easy on you?”

“No, I guess not. Bugger. There goes my fun times idea then.”

“You know where the door is.”

“You think I’m going to pike out?”

“You’d better not. You okayed the rules before we started.”

“All right, fine. But I get to choose which item of clothing I take off.”

Aleks wanted to argue the point but found himself reluctant to do so. What did it matter? He’d win, that was a foregone conclusion. She wasn’t wearing enough clothes to last a whole game anyway.

“Okay,” he said finally. “But the bracelets don’t count.” He wanted her to leave them on. He wanted her naked wearing only them.

Izzy muttered a curse. Then she reached behind her head and pulled out the hair tie that held her hair back in a ponytail. White-blonde curls drifted over her shoulders in a thick cotton-candy mass. “There.” She held out the hair tie for inspection. “Happy?”

He couldn’t complain. Her hair was beautiful. “Yes.”

“Don’t forget I have to win some pieces.”

Like he could forget that. He didn’t answer, moving another pawn instead.

“Not much of a talker, are you?” Izzy shifted her bishop.

“Is that another question?”

She made a frustrated noise. “Yeah it’s a question but I guess you don’t have to answer it.”

Aleks considered his move. “I talk but only when I have something to say.”

“Which isn’t often.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, but…” She faltered. “Makes me feel like I’m running at the mouth all the time.”

“I’ve noticed.” He shifted another pawn. “You talk a lot when you’re nervous or unsure of yourself.”

A small silence crept between them.

He looked up from the board. Izzy was staring at him, a surprised look on her face.

“What?” he asked.

“You noticed that about me?”

“I notice a lot of things about you.” It was, he realized, true. And he hadn’t been aware quite how much he noticed until now. But then it shouldn’t surprise him, should it? He paid attention to the things that interested him. And she interested him.

A stain of colour washed through her cheeks. She looked away, back down to the board. “Well,” she said. “Well… Good.”

He watched her, the play of colour on her cheeks, the way the corners of her mouth had curved slightly into a smile. She looked pleased. And for some reason that pleased him too.

“Oh,” Izzy breathed. “I think I can take your pawn.”

Aleks didn’t need to look. He knew she could because that’s the way he’d planned it. “So take it then.”

She didn’t hesitate, knocking over his piece with hers then picking up the black pawn with a look of triumph. “Ha! It’s mine now. And that means I get to ask you a question.”

A small flicker of tension went through him, but he ignored it. He’d promised her she could ask questions and he would answer them. His past was fraught, admittedly, but he had nothing to hide. Nothing to be ashamed of.

“Ask away,” he said.
 

 

Carefully Izzy placed the black pawn down beside the chessboard. Then she looked at the man sitting opposite her.

He had one leg stretched out in front of him, the other bent at the knee, his elbow propped on it. Casual and relaxed. Except the intensity of his expression and the air of subtle tension about him. As if he was bracing himself for something. Her question probably. Interesting. He did seem to be very reserved. Was that a Russian thing or an Aleks thing?

She leaned back on her hands, thinking. There were a whole lot of questions in her head, but she decided to keep the first one general. He already looked like he was expecting something major so shaking up his expectations wouldn’t be a bad thing. It would have to be phrased carefully though because she already knew he’d give her exactly what he promised and no more. Him and his bloody rules.

“So, Aleks. Why chess?”

He lifted one black brow. “What do you mean ‘why chess’?”

“You’re a professional chess player, or so you told me. Pretty unusual. I want to know why you do it.”

“Because I’m good at it.”

“That’s it? Because you’re good at it?”

“What more were you expecting?”

Dear God but the man was annoying. “A little bit more than ‘I’m good at it’. C’mon. Why chess player and not, say, policeman? Or truckdriver? Or President of the USA?”

“That’s more than one question.”

Izzy glared at him. “No more clothes are coming off until you give me a decent answer.”

Aleks said nothing for a long moment. “I play chess professionally because I’m good at it. Because I enjoy playing.” The slightest of hesitations. “And because I don’t have any qualifications for anything else. I never went to school.”

Carefully Izzy pushed herself off her hands. “Never went to school? Why not?”

“That can be your next question.”

Damn him. His rules were stupid. But then she’d agreed to them, hadn’t she?

She glared harder, but he didn’t seem to notice, reaching out and moving up a bishop to take one of her pawns instead. He picked up the white piece, turning it over in his long, clever fingers, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

Her annoyance faded at that glint. Being the object of his satisfaction was a rush. “I guess you’re going to be asking me to take something off, huh?”

“Yes.” The glint in his eyes deepened. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Izzy grinned. Then with great ceremony took off one of her sandals. “Don’t tell me, that wasn’t what you had in mind?”

BOOK: Black Knight, White Queen
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