It irked him, like a pebble caught in his shoe, that knowledge that she refused to reveal that most basic part of herself to him.
"Do you intend to enter, Captain Wargate?" she asked, her tone acid.
He grinned and bowed. "I have every intention of entering your secret room, ma'am."
That surprised a short laugh from her. "Touché, Captain. Please come in."
He passed her, conscious that she stepped back so he wouldn't brush her person as he moved. "Call me Isaac."
"What a very Biblical name."
"What's yours, then?" He turned to look at her. "Your real name, not the one they call you here."
She hesitated and for a second he thought she might tell him, but she shook her head. "Would you like some wine?"
"Aye." He set his satchel on the square table before the fire. A man must be patient with a cat. She'd only drew near when he wasn't looking.
He heard the clink of the glass behind him as he opened the satchel and brought out the board. The pieces were in a soft leather pouch and he laid them out on the black and red squares.
"What is that?" She was closer than he'd realized.
He hid a smile. "What does it look like?"
She moved around him to set a glass of wine on the table. "A draughts board." She frowned down suspiciously at the game. "What did you bring it for?"
"I thought we'd play." He sat at one side of the table and picked up the wine glass, watching her.
"But . . ." She glanced about the room. "You came here to—"
"Play a game with you," he said softly. "That is if you wish to."
She debated that a moment and he'd have given all the winnings from last night to have seen beneath the flat golden mask. Then she lowered herself to the chair opposite his, her back as straight and rigid as if she were about to take tea with the king.
He nodded and moved one of his men. "You don't have wine yourself."
"I don't drink it while entertaining." She pushed a round piece forward. "Why draughts?"
He shrugged and made his move. "It's easy to play, but hard to master. I thought you might enjoy it."
"Enjoy it." She said the words as if tasting a strange meat. "You'd rather play a child's game than bed me?"
"Right here, right now, yes," he said and took the two pieces she'd played. "And it's not a game for a child."
She stared down at the board and he knew that under the cold metal mask she was frowning.
He made sure to keep his mouth straight.
"I don't think I like this game," she said regally and flicked a piece forward with her fingertip.
"That's because you're not used to playing it," he replied. "It takes but a bit of practice. A smidgen of thinking ahead."
"Thinking ahead in what way?"
He scratched his chin. "Draughts can be played in two ways. One can move the pieces at random, reacting to the plays of the opponent. That is how a child plays draughts." He pushed forward a round wooden piece, tempting her to capture it. "Or one can plan ahead, anticipate the moves the opposite player makes. The game is more complex then."
She stared at his lure for a moment and then moved a different piece forward. "It sounds like too much thought for what is merely a game."
"A game is what one makes of it," he said softly. "Much of life is a game. If played skillfully, with an intelligent and fascinating opponent, it can become almost like a dance. One challenges and moves, the other teases and skips away, only to dart forward later and strike a telling blow."
She looked at the board and then suddenly leaned forward and jumped two of his men, capturing them. She set the pieces neatly by her side of the board before looking up her green eyes flashing triumphantly behind the mask. "Perhaps I like this game after all."
He felt the thrill go through him—the knowledge that he'd engaged her, this mysterious woman, but he bowed his head to hide his own triumph. A commander knew not to celebrate too soon and let the enemy ship duck thorough his defenses.
Aphrodite was fingering one of the wooden markers she'd captured. "Where did you get this game?"
"I made it."
She bent her head as if to examine the piece she held. "You carved it?"
"Mmm," he murmured his assent. "The evenings are long at sea. I carved that and stained it several years ago."
"Who do you usually play with?"
His lips twitched her suspicious tone. "My first mate or one of the lieutenants. King me."
She placed a second marker on top of his first and then stared down at the board, but made no move. "It must be dreary to be so long at sea."
"No, not at all." Isaac sat back in his chair and took a sip of wine. "The sea is ever changing, sometimes so mild and sweet it makes your heart ache at the beauty. Sometimes she throws a fit and tosses the ship about so that you'd like to leave her and never return. But a sailor always returns to the sea."
She pushed one of her markers too near his guard. "You make the sea sound like a woman."
"She is to most sailors," he murmured absently. He could see no trap so he took three of her men.
Aphrodite made a sound of displeasure at his move and bent her head to the table. "You're widowed, but you must have a woman waiting for you somewhere?"
"I wouldn't be here if there was."
Her head jerked up. "What a very fine sentiment, Captain."
He cocked his head, eyeing her. "You don't believe me."
"No." She took one of his men. "In my experience all men are happy to dawdle with more than one woman, given the temptation."
"Most men, perhaps—"
"All men," she said with finality.
"Not this one, madam," he growled and took six of her markers at once with his king.
She gasped, looking down at what remained of her men. "A gentleman would let the lady win!"
"No." He shook his head. "No quarter, no false pity. We play this game as adults, you and I."
"I don't understand you," she said and for the first time he heard uncertainty in her voice.
"Make your move."
She glanced at the board. "Whichever way I move I'll lose."
"Do you admit defeat, then?"
"No." She played.
He took another man. "I'll ask a forfeit when I win."
"You made no mention of a forfeit before we started." She sounded indignant.