Chapter Two #2
Her eyebrows twitched slightly, as though surprised by his reaction. “Yes, he is, but he enjoys coming out of his cage to see everyone.” She bit on her bottom lip and grinned. “He’s also always on the lookout for rats. They’re his favorite meal.”
Jules chuckled and stared at the creature’s pointed face and forked tongue that was busy tasting the air. “Plenty of them out there if you know where to look.”
“Oh, yes, he never goes hungry.” She glanced at the tables. “Are you playing?”
“Most certainly. Perhaps Sydney will bring me luck.”
“I’m sure he will.” The woman walked past him, the end of the snake’s long body curled around her arms.
“Well, I never,” he muttered with a chuckle. That was something he hadn’t seen at the Lyon’s Den before.
He spotted an almost-full table about to start a game of brag. The dealer was shuffling. Time to start winning.
As he sat, he noticed this dealer was different.
A woman.
She glanced at him then carried on expertly smooshing the cards. Spreading them out facedown before gathering them up in a completely new arrangement.
The three men at his side were watching closely, their cash already stacked up.
Brag was a fast betting game. Three cards, best hand won the pot.
“Mr. Habsburg.” One of the wolves, Lysander, nodded at him as he walked behind the dealer.
“Greetings,” he said in return as he dug into his pocket. He had a pleasing amount of silver crowns and several gold sovereigns, so to get himself started, he pulled out four crowns and set them on the green table covering.
The other men glanced at him. It was enough money to be serious about a game but not enough to give any indication of how lucky he was feeling or how competent a player he was.
“May the best man win,” he said, holding his drink aloft and grinning.
“Hear, hear.” The man closest to him tugged on his graying beard.
The other two nodded in acknowledgment.
The dealer, a delicate woman with an elegant jawline, looked at each man in turn, her blue eyes connecting with everyone. “Set your bets, gentlemen.”
He pushed forward a silver crown, his gaze dipping to the pretty pearl necklace she wore that reflected onto her pale skin.
“Very good.” She held the cards in her grip for another split second and then, fast as a cobra strike, she dealt each man three cards and laid the communal three on the table.
His stomach tightened the way it always did as he took his cards. The unknown, the potential, the thrill of a hand of cards gave him a thrill.
“Sirs.” She tipped her head. “When you are ready.”
“Thank you.” He smiled at her. Perhaps having a woman dealer here at the Lyon’s Den would bring him luck.
Lysander walked around their table. It seemed he was keeping a close eye on the new lady dealer.
Keeping his expression thoroughly neutral, Jules watched the other men at the table pick up their cards and look at them. He wanted to see the first tiny expressions of his competition.
Beard Man twitched his chin, his beard shifting a fraction. The man in glasses, he pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, and the other man stayed perfectly still.
Jules went back to his own hand. Not bad but not good enough, he suspected.
“Sir,” the woman dealer said.
“Please. Mr. Habsburg. Jules Habsburg.” He smiled at her and set his free hand on his chest.
“Mr. Habsburg. Are you playing or folding?” Her voice was sweet with a slightly singsong accent he couldn’t quite place.
“I’ll play.” He switched a card. It was an improvement.
The player next to him did the same.
So did the next one but not the third.
Which was unusual. Did he have a flush or a run or maybe even a pair? It couldn’t be a prial, the top winning hand, as Jules himself had one of the three threes needed for that.
The dealer looked at them each in turn, again her eyes settling on each man.
He shifted his weight on the seat. He was a fine-looking chap, he knew that, had been told often enough, but she wasn’t studying his strong jawline, wide shoulders, or fine suit. This was something else.
She was really looking at him. As if trying to read his thoughts, his face, and his body language.
“And again?” she asked him. He was to her left so the first to go each time.
“I’ll play.” He tilted his chin and swapped another card.
Someone brushed past his shoulder.
The woman with the snake stopped at the next table.
“Sir?” the dealer asked Beard Man.
He too played, though not the next man or the third.
After a few more minutes, it was time to show hands.
Jules presented first. Not bad. A flush. Three hearts.
Beard Man had a pair, so he’d lost.
Glasses Gentleman displayed a running high. A queen and two lower numbers.
Jules felt his heart rate quicken. So far, so good.
Until third man flipped his hand, revealing a running flush.
“Damn it,” Jules muttered as he watched his coins shift from his side of the table to the other.
“Another game, gentlemen?” the dealer asked.
He nodded and set a gold coin on the table. The atmosphere shifted slightly as the stakes were raised.
The casino was busy now. Jules was aware of people around him, moving about, trays of food and drink being delivered. The pianist played a faster tune and a dancer with feathers in her hair took to the stage.
Lysander cupped his hand, leaned in, and spoke quietly to the dealer.
She nodded and didn’t pause shuffling the cards.
For a moment, Jules was mesmerized by her graceful movements.
Her nails were perfectly buffed and her fingers long and elegant.
He’d wager she could play a piano beautifully.
And she held herself tall, shoulders back, almost as if she were apart from the room, looking into it rather than being part of it.
Curious.
Very curious.