Not a hero. Not a villain. Just a man afraid to risk his heart…and hers.

 

Game of Hearts

© 2011 Kate Donovan

 

The Happily Ever After Company, Book 1

Aengus Yates broke Suzannah Hennessy’s heart. Twice. As an eight-year-old, she entreated the handsome young rancher to wait. He laughingly rebuffed her and went on to marry his beautiful fiancée. When he abandoned his family years later, Suzannah should have felt justified. Instead, her heart broke all over again—with disillusionment that the man she loved could do such a thing.

Now fully grown, Suzannah signs up along with her shy, self-conscious best friend to let a matchmaker find them husbands. Love may not be in her future, but there is adventure to be had in the Wild West.

Aengus has done his best to make a fresh start, to banish old betrayals. When Suzannah appears at his door, it’s clear she’s no longer a lovesick child. Now her womanly curves make his heart pound with desire. Yet he dare not trust himself to love again, and he plans to tell her just that…as soon as she stops berating him long enough to let him get a word in edgewise, to tell her he’s just trying to live an honorable life—against some very dishonorable odds.

Warning: Contains a love-soured heroine and a love-starved hero who’d like nothing better to sweeten things up.

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for Game of Hearts:

Ben Steele played games for a living. Playing games, devising strategies, distracting opponents—his effectiveness at such pursuits could not be denied. But he was beginning to think he’d met his match in Suzannah Hennessy, who seemed to have a counter for his every move, an insight into his every bluff, and a determination to win that equaled his own in every way. She was pretty too. Under other circumstances, she might have figured in this contest as both opponent and prize. But in this particular game, it was a beautiful creature named Megan Braddock he was determined to win.

The dark-haired beauty made the gambler’s usually untouchable heart pound in his chest, to the point where she was in his every thought and dream. Her long, graceful neck; her soft, melodious voice; the perfectly manicured hands that nested in her lap, so prim and proper, waiting patiently to be introduced to the feel of a man. Ben Steele was determined to be that man.

Since the day he’d first met the pretty pair and offered to serve as their escort on the long voyage from New York to San Francisco, his interest in Megan had shifted from admiration to lust to pure yearning, then back to lust, again and again. If only he could be alone with her for just a few moments. Or the rest of his life. Or anything in between.

But the only thing “in between” was Suzannah Hennessy. And of course, the mysterious “Mr. Riordain” of whom they spoke in guarded whispers. And the even more mysterious “Aengus Yates,” who was apparently someone from their past who had earned Suzannah’s undying wrath. It was all very intriguing. Not to mention frustrating.

“What exactly did he do to you?” Ben demanded finally in mock exasperation as their ship sailed into the royal blue waters of the Caribbean.

“I beg your pardon?” Suzannah shot him a haughty glance. “Was our conversation disturbing you, Mr. Steele?”

“Completely, Miss Hennessy.” Ben winked toward Megan. “You’ve mentioned a scoundrel named Aengus so often I almost feel as though he’s riding along with us.”

To Ben’s delight, his true love’s soft gray eyes began to twinkle. “Aengus is always with us, Mr. Steele, because Suzannah carries such strong feelings for him in her heart. Would you like to hear the story?”

Before Ben could respond, Suzannah frowned and insisted, “It’s the story of an irresponsible man. I’m certain that, in your profession, you meet dozens of such men every year.”

“Suzannah!” Megan blanched. “Forgive her, Mr. Steele.”

“Call me Ben,” he reminded her. “And don’t apologize. I wasn’t at all offended.” Leaning forward, he dared to up the ante. “May I call you Megan?”

“You may not!” Suzannah scolded. “We’ve tolerated your attentions on this voyage, Mr. Steele. But you would be mistaken to feel encouraged in any way.”

Megan’s eyes clouded. “You’ve been a wonderful escort, Mr. Steele. And a perfect gentleman. We don’t mean to seem ungrateful, but—”

“But we’ll be in Panama City in just a few days, boarding the steamship for San Francisco,” Suzannah reminded her friend firmly. “Mr. Steele will be heading to his fancy hotel. And you will be only weeks away from marrying Dennis Riordain.”

“Marrying?” Ben almost choked on the word. “Is that so, Miss Braddock?” When Megan’s gaze dropped from his, he groaned aloud. “I had no idea. Forgive me. You just didn’t seem…”

“Didn’t seem what, Mr. Steele?” Suzannah taunted. “Didn’t seem engaged to be married? Well, I’m afraid she is.”

Ben placed his hand tenderly over Megan’s. “You didn’t seem like a girl in love, Miss Braddock. You seemed like a girl falling in love.”

Megan gasped and pulled free of him just as Suzannah’s huge emerald eyes flashed in warning. “You’ve insulted my closest friend, Mr. Steele, and now I must insist you find other company to keep for the remainder of this trip.”

“No, wait!” Megan wailed. “I have something to say first.”

Ben and Suzannah stared, united for once in disbelief at the gentle girl’s strident tone.

“Miss Braddock?” he asked cautiously. “Are you angry?”

Megan moistened her lips. “Suzannah? Could you give me just a moment alone with Mr. Steele?”

“Pardon?”

“Please? Just… well, ten minutes?”

“Ten?”

It was all Ben could do to keep from grinning victoriously in the flabbergasted chaperon’s direction, but he wisely adopted a humble tone instead. “I assure you I’ll behave, Miss Hennessy.”

Suzannah was quick to rally. “I wouldn’t be so smug, Mr. Steele. I’m quite certain she simply wants to say good-bye.” With a haughty glare, the golden-haired passenger slipped out of her deck chair, smoothed the skirt of her finely tailored traveling outfit, and hurried away.

Ben waited, patient and hopeful, while Megan visibly gathered her thoughts. Finally she blurted, “I’m flattered by your attention, Mr. Steele. But honestly, I don’t understand it! I can only imagine the adventures you’ve had and the women you’ve known…” She blushed frantically. “In any case, I have apparently misled you, and so you are entitled to an explanation, and so… Well, I’m not in love with Mr. Riordain yet. I can’t imagine how you guessed that. I suppose your experience—”

“I’ve had little experience with true love,” Ben interrupted gently. “But they say that when it happens, one knows. By the racing of the pulse, and the tightening of the throat, and the yearning of the heart. You feel it too, don’t you, Megan darling?”

“Mr. Steele, please. Don’t say such things.”

He grasped her hand and knelt quickly before her. “I’m sure you have your reasons for admiring this Dennis Riordain fellow. Perhaps he’s been kind to you in the past, and has promised to care for you. I appreciate that, but…” He caught the flicker of something—confusion? embarrassment? guilt?—in her dove gray eyes, and prodded warily, “What is it, Megan?”

“It’s…it’s just… you wouldn’t understand. You’re being so patient, though. I thank you for that. But I assure you, the situation is hopeless.”

Her smile, so hesitant and vulnerable, made Ben yearn to gather her into his arms. Instead, he murmured, “You can tell me anything, darling. I promise I won’t judge you.”

Megan tilted her head, as though seeing him for the first time, and he thought for an instant he had managed to find the only words that could unlock the mysteries of her heart. Then she reached into her satchel and pulled out a fold of paper, which she proffered shyly.

It was a letter. A love letter? Ben struggled against a surge of jealousy and forced himself to read it. At first it made no sense, and then…

“He’s a stranger?”

Megan nodded.

“You’ve never even met him?”

“No.”

“This has been arranged?”

“By my uncle. It is his business, and his talent. I’m sorry, Mr. Steele.”

“Megan…” He was almost giddy with relief. “Darling, our obnoxious chaperon will be back at any moment.” Cupping her chin in his hand, he whispered, “May I kiss you?”

“But—”

“Shh.” He smiled, completely confident at last. “Just one kiss. Mr. Riordain won’t mind, I assure you.”