I stare at him, thrown by the generosity; this is the largest tip I’ve ever received. I recover with an affected gasp, then beam at Charles. “I love this one. I love him!”

Darcy almost, almost smiles. He’s regained some of his starchiness since our little moment, but there’s something curious in his look now, an intrigue that wasn’t there before. I can work with that.

I make a minor production of stashing the bill in my garter, patting the little pouch where it’s situated high on my thigh. “Thank you,” I tell Darcy, and lift my tray from the table. “I promise to spend it irresponsibly, and think of you fondly as I do.”

“Then I stand by my investment.” Again, his voice betrays no emotion. But his focus hovers at my thigh long enough for it to feel like contact. Instinct has me shifting closer, my leg a breath from the table’s edge. His fingers curl around his wallet, and he jerks his attention away from me.

Not sure what to do, I wink with a parting, “Gentlemen,” and move toward the next couple. I get two steps before the tug of missed opportunity has me backtracking. I bump Darcy with my hip.

Charles tosses his head back in laughter, clapping again. Darcy looks at me with a wide-eyed expression I have no name for but “dour bafflement.” For a staggering heartbeat, I watch him. He really is devastating, even when he’s staring at me like I’ve insulted his mother.

His grip on the wallet goes white-knuckled.

I swallow hard and nod at the decks on the table. “Four of Clubs.”

CHAPTER

3

I get to the dressing room in time to drop off my tray and head right back for the Twins’ second act. It’s a well-established routine, and I don’t have to track any errant undergarments, which is good, because I’m still reeling from my interaction with Darcy. It wasn’t simply the good face. And he didn’t say anything particularly compelling. So why . . . ?

I flash back to the last few seconds beside their table: his attention on my thigh, the way he clung to his wallet like it was the only thing keeping him from reaching for me.

I wrinkle my nose. Or he thought I was going to swipe it.

Later, Jane joins me to watch Ming, and I distract myself by giving him the lowdown on Charles: “Charming, good sense of humor, and unless my senses are completely off, I’d put him down as a definite potential. I give you leave to like him.”

Jane keeps his eyes on Ming, but he makes a thoughtful “hmm” sound.

“Jane.” My voice is hard, making him look at me. “You know what you have to do.”

“No,” he says with a hint of annoyance. “Absolutely not. It’s too forward.”