In the center of the rug sat Diego and me, cross-legged across a low table. Between us rested a deck of cards and a distinctly lopsided pile of discarded clothing.
"You're cheating," I said flatly, holding my remaining two cards close to my chest while glaring at my husband. "You're using Ares's heightened wolf-senses to smell the ink on the parchment."
Diego, bare-chested and hair disheveled, had a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he leaned back against a floor cushion. He was down to his trousers.
I, on the other hand, had lost my robe, slippers and overskirt. All that remained was a white linen shift that did nothing to hide the curves of my body from his hungry gaze.
"Ares is asleep, mi reina," Diego chuckled. "I'm simply a superior tactician. Now... call or fold?"
"Call
