She was well versed in the game and was indeed lucky with cards, but she wasn't fool enough to think herself in Connor's league. She pretended to consider his proposal, conscious that all eyes had turned their way, then she shook her head, a dismissive smile on her lips. "I think-"

"I've a pretty little mare, pure Arab-bought her for breeding, but she's proving deuced picky, altogether unamenable. She should suit you well." The comment was just glib enough not to rate as an insult. Connor smiled, very definitely too knowing. "Beat your cousin to her, as a matter of fact."

That last comment, thrown in no doubt to pique her interest, pricked her pride instead.

"No!" Reggie insisted, his whisper despairing.

Amanda locked gazes with Connor and raised a haughty brow; her smile had disappeared. "A mare, you say?"

Connor nodded, somewhat distracted. "Worth a small fortune." His tone suggested he was having second thoughts about the wisdom of his wager.

For one instant, Amanda teetered on the brink of accepting his challenge, then caution reared its head. If she rejected Connor, playing a rubber with some of the blades watching would be sufficient to prevent her being labeled a silly chit out of her depth, a dilettante. She couldn't afford to be contemptuously dismissed by the crowd she suspected harbored her future husband. But how to slide out of Connor's trap?

The answer was blindingly obvious. Letting her lips curve, she murmured, "How intriguing. Unfortunately, I have nothing I'd care to wager against such a valuable stake."

Turning away, she let her gaze meet those of the two blades who had started to approach. Blatantly considered them. They straightened.

Connor growled, "Not even three hours of your time?"

She swung back to face him. "Three hours?"

"Three hours, to be spent by my side"-Connor waved magnanimously-"in whatever surroundings you choose." The last phrase was delivered with an intense leer.