Death of a Beauty Queen

She frowned at him, feeling the skin stretch along her forehead and cheek. Her hand moved to brush the scar, but she stopped it. “All right,” she said reluctantly. “I’ll read your cards, but I have to warn you, I don’t guarantee happy endings.”

His smile stretched wider. “I’ll take my chances.”

She’d already studied and cataloged him last night, using the tools Maman had taught her. Now she thought about the kind of man she’d judged him to be, and decided that for him, happy little hints of the future wouldn’t do. Whether he would admit it or not, his challenge to her was to tell him exactly what she saw inside him. And that she would do.

She dealt the cards, surprised when the Fool turned up in position zero. Something Maman had said not long before she died echoed in her head.

Keep your heart open, ‘tite. When I’m gone, your safety will lie in the hands of the Fool.

He pointed at the Fool card without touching it. “That’s significant, isn’t it?”

Rose swallowed and rested the heels of her hands on the edge of the table. “Would you like to read your own fortune?” she asked drily.

He shook his head and waited, but his eyes twinkled. Twinkled!

“Every card is significant,” she said, starting her usual spiel. “Where they are is as important as what they are. The Fool in position zero indicates that—” she took a breath, wishing she could stop herself “—that you don’t have to search any longer. You already have everything you need. You’re standing on the threshold of a new life. All you have to do is make use of what you already know. But beware. If you become distracted from your primary goal, you’ll fail and lose everything.”

She felt his dark gaze on her the whole time she talked, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the Fool card. She’d wanted to skew his fortune—tell him that he should give up his current obsession, but that wasn’t in the cards, and she wasn’t able to make herself say anything but exactly what the cards foretold.

She started to gather them up, but he stopped her with his hand. She looked up at him, startled.

“My primary goal—what is it?” He angled his head, indicating the cards.

Rose looked at his large, warm hand on top of hers. Its heat sent warmth flowing through the lace into her skin, up her arm and through her entire body. Warmth and promise. One person’s stalker is another’s protector.

No. If he was the Fool, she’d take her chances on her own. She jerked her arm away. “I can’t tell you that. If you don’t know—”

He nodded slowly, still holding her gaze. “I know.” He took a long breath. “It’s you.”

Rose recoiled, aghast. “Stop this. I shouldn’t have …” She picked up her cards, stacked them quickly and shoved them into her large tote. “I have to go.”