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IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

LOVER BY CHANCE

Copyright © 2010 by Debra Glass

First E-book Publication: July 2010

Cover design by Debra Glass

All cover art and logo copyright © 2010 by Debra Glass

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

LOVER BY CHANCE

DEBRA GLASS

Copyright © 2010

Chapter One

Aboard Belle Creole, Mississippi, 1852

Jedidiah Nash laid his hand down on the table. His winning hand.

His opponent, Richard Laurent, paled. He tugged at his neck cloth. “Wait. Double or nothing. I’ll put up the deed to my farm.”

Jed sized the man up. Experience told him Richard was at the end of his tether. “And you just happen to have this deed with you,” Jed stated.

Laurent raked a trembling hand through his brown hair. “Well…no. But—”

Jed flashed an easy smile at the feathers and velvet adorned waitress who offered to pour his shot glass full. Again. “No thank you, Jenny.”

He gained his feet. “I’ll take that key, Monsieur Laurent.”

The other gamblers all gaped at Richard.

Jed leaned over the table to grind out his cigar in the ashtray. “Are you going to break the news to Madame Laurent or shall I?”

Richard’s face blushed crimson. He jammed his hand into his pocket. Instead of withdrawing the key, he pulled a pistol.

With lightning speed, Jed drew his Derringer and fired. Richard’s weapon flew from his hand. He gaped and shook his hand. “You nearly shot me!”

Jed eyed his opponent. “The key, please,” he said calmly.

Defeated and embarrassed, Richard threw the key to his cabin across the table. Jed chuckled as he collected it. This wouldn’t be the first wife or mistress he’d won in a poker game. And daresay, it wouldn’t be his last.

Even though this was merely sport to him, Jed couldn’t quell the grin that played on his lips. Now, to extract whatever money Laurent’s wife had withheld from her husband…

“Good evening, gentlemen,” he said with a low and mocking bow.

Once he was out of the salon, Jed glanced at the key fob for the room number. His smile broadened. The honeymoon suite? Well, well.

* * * * *

Elena Laurent sank into a wingback chair and cast her sullen gaze on the still made bed. With a sigh, she crossed her arms over her chest. Richard had told her he’d only be gone for an hour at the most. She glanced at the clock. It had been four. Four long hours. And it wasn’t fitting for a well-bred lady to step into the salon after the men had taken it over to gamble.

The doorknob rattled and she heard the key twist in the lock. A sudden burst of anger at her husband flared. She shot to her feet and snatched the closest weapon—a vase. As soon as the door opened, she hurled the vase with all her might. But her target dodged and instead of crashing against Richard’s skull as Elena had intended, it shattered against the wall.

“I see you’re expecting me,” came a raspy voice—a voice that did not belong to her husband.

Elena blinked. Her eyes focused on a tall, black-haired man. Her breath froze in her chest at the sight of him. Wavy locks protested against the pomade in his hair. His fashionably cut suit fit him to utter, mouth-watering perfection. Although he dressed the part, Elena knew this man was no gentleman. He leaned casually against the doorframe as if he belonged in this cabin—with her.