The Heart's Victory by Nora Roberts Page A

with the Matthews merger, their two offspring, and her bridge club. Love is untidy and plebeian.”
    â€œYou’re making that up.”
    â€œAs you like,” he said easily.
    â€œLet’s not take a cab,” she said as they stepped outside. She tossed her head back to the stars. “It’s so beautiful.” Smiling into his eyes, she tucked her hand in his arm. “Let’s walk, it isn’t far.”
    They ignored the light stream of traffic and walked under the warm glow of street lamps. Champagne spun pleasantly in Foxy’s head and lifted her feet just an inch from the sidewalk. The countess’s warning was forgotten, and she was completely relaxed. The walk under the slice of moon and smattering of stars seemed to occur in a timeless realm, full of the scents and mysteries of night.
    â€œDo you know,” Foxy began and spun away from him, “I love palm trees.” Giggling, she rested her back against one and smiled at Lance. “I always wanted one when I was little, but they don’t do well in Indiana. I had to settle for a pine.”
    Moving closer, he brushed curls from cheeks flushed with wine and excitement. “I had no idea you were so interested in horticulture.”
    â€œI have my secrets.” Swirling out of reach, she leaned over a sea wall. “I wanted to be a skin diver when I was eight,” she told him as she peered out into the dark sea. “Or a heart surgeon, I could never make up my mind. What do you want to be when you grow up, Lance?” She turned back to him, and the wind caught and pulled at her free curls. Her eyes were speared with laughter.
    â€œStarting pitcher for the Red Sox.” His eyes dropped to the elegant curve of her neck as she threw back her head and laughed.
    â€œI bet you’ve got a whole bagful of pitches.” She sighed with the pleasure of laughter. “You never told me how much I won in there.”
    â€œHmm?” Lost in the flicker of moonlight in her hair, he listened with half an ear.
    â€œHow much did I win in the casino?” she repeated, pushing dancing curls from her face.
    â€œOh.” He shrugged. “Fifty, fifty-five thousand francs.”
    â€œWhat?” The one syllable was half laugh, half choke. “Fifty-five
thousand?
That’s—that’s more than ten thousand dollars!”
    â€œAt the current rate of exchange,” Lance agreed carelessly.
    â€œOh, good grief!” Her hands flew up to cover her mouth as her eyes grew impossibly wide. “Lance, I might have lost!”
    â€œYou did remarkably well.” Amusement was back in his eyes and in his voice. “Or remarkably poorly considering your desire to lose.”
    â€œI had no idea I was gambling with that kind of money; I never would have tossed it around that way. Why . . . you’re crazy!” Helplessly she began to laugh. “You’re a lunatic. Certifiable.” She dropped her head to his shoulder as her laughter floated warmly on the quiet night. When he brought his arms around her, she made no protest. “I might have lost, you know,” she managed between giggles. “And I might easily have fainted cold if I’d have found out how much those chips were worth while the wheel was still spinning.” Taking a deep breath, she lifted her brilliant eyes to his. “Now, it seems I’ve added to your already disgusting fortune.”
    â€œThe winnings are rightfully yours,” he corrected, but Foxy stepped back horrified.
    â€œOh no, it was your money. In any case . . . ” She paused, distracted, and plucked a daisy from a clump of grass at the foot of the sea wall. The champagne was still flowing. “In any case,” she repeated as she tucked the flower in her hair, “you wouldn’t have expected me to make up your losses.” With this logic, she began to walk again, holding out a hand for his.