When His Kiss is Wicked
“Four aces. His friends groaned when they saw his winning poker hand. “And that’s the game.”
“Doesn’t that beat all?” Lord James Buckley complained with a desperate frown. “How do you always manage to win, Waverly?”
“Just born lucky, I guess.” Lucien grinned as he collected his considerable winnings from the center of the table. It wasn’t as if he needed the money. Lucien just liked to play cards and spend time with his friends. Not since his father’s apoplectic sickness began had he hosted a night of cards.
“He gets all the cards and all the women,” Buckley muttered to the others, his thin face narrowed in dissatisfaction. “It’s not fair.”
“Fair enough,” Jeffrey Eddington responded cryptically, collecting the cards from the table. He shuffled them effortlessly and they began another hand.
They had recently learned to play poker, a distinctly American card game, from their friend Harrison Fleming, who had visited New Orleans the year before, and they had been playing it ever since.
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