“What have you got, Fi?” Ryske asked. “Want to see me?”
“With what?” Ophelia asked, pressing her cards to her chest. Everyone else liked to leave their cards on the table and just peek at them. Ophelia insisted on holding hers in her hand. “One car for another? The only cars I own are stretch limos.”
Shaking his head, Ryske turned out his lip. “You’ve got to have something I want.”
Ophelia’s cards descended to her stomach. She squashed them against her to better slant toward him. “What would you like?”
Giving her what she wanted, Ryske admired her chest, and the rest of her figure. His deep, admiring eyes remained alight with intrigue. Yet, they were subdued like he was hiding an interest in more than her cards.
“I can have anything?” he asked.
Licking her lips, Ophelia dropped her register. “Anything.”
After thinking about it for a minute and letting his attention float around the room, he nodded. “Okay,” Ryske said. “This place.”
Ophelia blinked while Parratt sat up straighter. “You… you want my club?”
“Yeah,” Ryske said. “Why not?”
“You can’t give him the club,” Parratt blustered. “We need Windsor’s. It’s a perfect location, discreet, and close enough to the nicer part of town without being a main hub.”
“I don’t think you need to list its attributes,” Anwen said. “Ophelia knows how important Windsor’s is to Pothos… We don’t have to worry. Ryske is an integral part of the operation.”
“Right,” Ryske said. “I’m not screwing around. All I’m looking for is an even playing field with you rich fucks.”
Good, he was making his interest seem genuine. That came off as a credible reason for him to desire ownership. Ophelia, Parratt, and Yarker weren’t shy about waving their assets around, or making her, Ryske, and anyone without it, feel less than they were.
Keeping her eyes on Ryske, Ophelia called over her shoulder to the man who’d been on the periphery throughout. “Brash, be a sweetheart and run up to the office. Grab the deeds for the club.”
Tightening his lips until they thinned, Brash hesitated. He could be as irritated as he liked. At the end of the day, he had no choice in present company except to march off and do as commanded.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Yarker asked Ophelia who was basking in Ryske’s focus.
“Oh, please,” Ophelia spat over her shoulder. “What does this hovel matter to me? It doesn’t matter who owns the building, we all profit from it. My Ryske wouldn’t do anything rash… Besides…” She raised a finger to Ryske’s jaw and drew a line around its angle. “I have notions of my own… When I win…” Ryske’s expression loosened. “I want to make an amendment to your offer.”
“What’s that?” he asked, turning his mouth toward her hand and grazing the base of her thumb with his lips.
“I’ll need someone to drive me around in my new car… Will you take me for a spin?”
“You win, and I’ll do that. If I win, you get a lawyer here first thing to transfer ownership to me.”
Putting her cards face-down on the table, Ophelia wriggled closer. Harlow didn’t need to see to know that Ophelia was sliding her hand up Ryske’s thigh. “Hmm, transfer of ownership… Is there anything else you’d like to own, Mr. Ryske?”
Something made Harlow touch the chain around her neck. The one Ryske had padlocked onto her while whispering in her ear that as long as she wore it, she belonged to him. Whether she liked it or not.
Knowing that her heart was his, Harlow would never consider taking it off. The connection it gave her to him was powerful. Only they knew it existed, much like the depth of their relationship.
Ophelia continued to tease. Her mouth came within a tantalizing inch of Ryske’s. She didn’t get to make contact though. Brash returned and broke the moment by tossing the papers onto the table.
“Well,” Ophelia said. “I call… What have you got, handsome?” Although she asked, she didn’t wait for a response. Ophelia picked up her cards and turned them over. “Does it beat my flush?”
All eyes moved from her cards to Ryske, who was assessing the cards she’d revealed. He didn’t need to verify the hand, it was there for all to see. But, her love knew how to build suspense. Even Harlow—who knew he’d have this—was on the edge of her seat, holding her breath to see if he’d won.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he said, and put down his cards. “How does a straight flush do?”
The table erupted with noise, some happy, some not so.
Ophelia slapped a hand off the edge of the table, making everything bounce. “Damnit,” she said.
Although she wore a frown, the hostess didn’t really seem all that disappointed.
Harlow suspected that Ophelia didn’t care who won, her or Ryske, because she believed they were going to get together. Ryske took a pen from his pocket and offered it to Ophelia. Without much reluctance, she grabbed both the pen and the deed to begin filling it out.
From what Harlow had seen of the document on the table, it was a warranty deed. Her father said they were used as proof there were no encumbrances on a property, such as a mortgage, or others with a claim to ownership. Ophelia must have had the document prepared after her brother’s death. Smart. No one would want others to have ties to a business that was being used for illegal dealings.
“Wait a minute, we should give her a chance to win it back,” Yarker said. “One more hand.”
Ophelia finished filling in the deed. Though it would probably need to be recorded by a lawyer and witnessed by a notary to make it official. Harlow didn’t know for sure, but she doubted signing over a building was that easy.
“Yes,” Ophelia said, throwing the deed at Ryske and sitting up poker straight. “I do want to play one more… I get to call the stakes this time… I want to pick my opponent too. Play head to head.”
Ryske was the one who’d lost and the one who she wanted, so Harlow waited to hear his name.
“Go for it,” Ryske said, no doubt expecting the same.
“Harlow,” Ophelia said, pointing across the table. “I want to play her.”
“You lost to me,” Ryske said.
A new wariness shimmered around him. Compared to Ryske, Harlow was a rookie. Ophelia was no pro, but this was a helluva risk for them to take. While Ryske was trying to talk Ophelia out of her choice, Harlow was more interested in what Ophelia wanted from her.
The point of this hand was to lose. Harlow knew that from the numerous times they’d gone over the plan. Ryske was supposed to lose to Ophelia who would pick him as her prize. It seemed Ophelia was up to something far more devious. Her prize would still be Ryske, but she wanted Harlow to be the one to give him up. Maybe as a way to drive that wedge between them.
Putting Ryske on the table could be seen as disrespectful or emasculating. Ophelia might believe that Ryske would resent Harlow for handing him over like he was her possession. Except he’d already promised that he wouldn’t let Ophelia put a wedge between them. Harlow couldn’t screw this up, she couldn’t. It was literally impossible because the point was to lose.
“I’ll do it,” Harlow said, shirking her wondering and ignoring all the shocked or intrigued faces around to fixate only on Ophelia.
The hostess’ smile spread like the cat who’d caught the mouse and the fish and sautéed them in thick fresh cream. “Excellent,” she said, shuffling the cards. “Are we ready?”
“Wait a second,” Ryske said.
“You don’t trust me to play in your stead?” Harlow said.
There wasn’t even a comparison between her skills and Ryske’s. He’d been playing cards since he was a kid; she hadn’t even been playing for a year. “Trinket, I—”
“I promise we won’t stake your precious new building,” Harlow said and looked at Ophelia. “Fair?”
Ophelia nodded once. “Agreed.”
Both tossed in their blinds, which were the me
asly amounts meant to get the game started. Ophelia dealt them five cards each, and placed down the draw pile.
The game went on in almost silence, with only the players muttering as required. Harlow kept her focus on Ophelia’s. Even though neither of them were expressive, Harlow felt a cool serenity in her gut. This stage of the plan was easy. It was easy to lose a game of cards. What came next would be harder, but it wasn’t the time to be thinking about next. If Harlow thought too much about that, she’d lose her ability to project the cool confidence needed to play this game.
“So, Miss Sweeting,” Ophelia said. “I suppose it’s time to negotiate.” Harlow nodded once. “Why don’t you tell me what you are so eager to have?”
“What we were talking about earlier,” Harlow said without being explicit. Theirs had been a deal within a deal when it came to the money that was invested. She wasn’t sure what Parratt and Yarker knew about it. “But I maintain my stake.”
“You want me to write you a check,” Ophelia said and cracked a pitying smile. “Oh, money. It is so precious to those who don’t have it, and so meaningless to those of us who do.”
“It’s only meaningless because you do have it,” Maze said, defending her, but remaining cool.
His family was loaded, so most would believe he was in that category too. Only a select few knew how completely he’d shunned that part of his life.
“I will agree,” Ophelia said. “You get your check and your stake.”
It didn’t really matter what Harlow said. She could’ve asked for a unicorn Frisbee and left it at that. She didn’t have a winning hand. Three of a kind wasn’t going to win her much, and she’d bluffed it well, but that was okay. Her goal wasn’t to win.
Glancing at Ryske, she let herself see him for the first time. All through the hand, she’d felt his eyes on her and had refused to look his way. With each breath, his chest moved shallow and slow. Harlow couldn’t imagine he was mad. It worked out better this way. Her losing was more credible than him losing. Everyone knew he was a shark. He would never put himself in a position to lose; especially something as valuable as his own freedom.
“When we lay these cards down,” Ophelia said, bringing Harlow’s attention back. “One of us will be the victor.”
“Yes,” Harlow said. “Now, why don’t you declare to the table what it is you want from me? What do I have that you want?”
“Oh, it’s simple really,” Ophelia said, sitting back and draping an arm across Ryske’s lap. “One little thing… It’s something you shouldn’t have any trouble giving me at all… It won’t bankrupt you and it is yours to give… I could ask for so much more—”
“Spit it out, Ophelia,” Harlow said. “What do you want?”
Something about the way Ophelia angled her head from one side to the other, and curled the corner of her mouth, piqued Harlow’s anxiety.
Moving forward, away from Ryske, Ophelia leaned across the table. “You.”
Anwen gasped, but it was Ryske’s nasal intake of breath that Harlow heard over the shift of others.
“Me?” Harlow asked, trying to act like she hadn’t expected a different response.
“Yes,” Ophelia said. “Simply put, you’ll be mine… until I say otherwise or am convinced to put your freedom back on the table.” The smug smile on her face betrayed how unlikely that was. “I’d say my bet matches yours given how much you’re requesting I hand over.”
Which was Ophelia’s way of telling Harlow it would take her a decade to make a half million dollars. Except maintaining her stake in Pothos in addition to the payout meant Harlow could make ten times that amount. So, in truth, her request totaled more than just a half million dollars.
The tension at the table was palpable. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, but Harlow kept her cool. None of this mattered. She’d promised herself that no matter what happened tonight, she would go with it. The point was to lose and collect intelligence on Ophelia. It didn’t matter which of them was on the inside, so long as one of them was.
“Done,” Harlow said.
Both Ryske and Maze sat up straighter; Harlow didn’t let herself look at them. Lydia was scribbling behind her, but it didn’t matter. Everyone had heard their agreement.
Harlow revealed her cards. Ryske immediately sagged as Ophelia whooped and turned hers to show a full house. The hostess had won, but that was no surprise.
Trying her best to appear downtrodden and beaten, Harlow was doing a dance inside.
Whatever Ophelia wanted her to do, she’d do it with bells on. Her fear had been leaving Ryske behind, and now she wouldn’t have to.
Almost everyone was rising from the table and Ophelia was calling for champagne. Ryske hadn’t moved. Their eyes found each other through the melee; she didn’t need him to speak. He was furious. He was mad as hell. Harlow smiled.
This might not have been what she meant by distance, but they were going to be parted. Ryske would be worried, just as she had been when she thought about leaving him behind. Ophelia wasn’t going to make this easy. Her new boss would probably have all sorts of demeaning tasks lined up. Harlow would do them and wouldn’t complain.
From here on out, Harlow belonged to Ophelia. Her belief in her earlier claim to Ryske remained true. No doubt Ophelia’s first requirement would be no contact between her and Ryske. But, she was going to be on the inside. Someone from their crew had to be and this was the way it had worked out.
She wouldn’t let her crew down. Whatever the price for triumph, Harlow would pay it. Even if it meant never having his heart, or his body, again.
Living in the enemy camp presents new challenges…
Harlow’s compliance is crucial. No matter what, she has to obey.
But her love is in self-destruct mode.
Her strength, her focus, is all that is getting them through. She has to put the pieces together before her man takes matters into his own hands.
If he does, there will be no going back.
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Also by Scarlett Finn
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GO NOVELS
GO WITH IT
GO IT ALONE
GO ALL OUT
GO ALL IN
GO FULL CIRCLE
EXILE
HIDE & SEEK
KISS CHASE
THE BRANDED SERIES
BRANDED
SCARRED
MARKED
THE KINDRED SERIES
RAVEN
SWALLOW
CUCKOO
SWIFT
FALCON
FINCH
THE EXPLICIT SERIES
EXPLICIT INSTRUCTION
EXPLICIT DETAIL
EXPLICIT MEMORY
RISQUÉ SERIES
TAKE A RISK
RISK IT ALL
GAME OF RISK
HARROW DUET
FIGHTING FATE
FIGHTING BACK
MISTAKE DUET
MISTAKE ME NOT
SLEIGHT MISTAKE
STANDALONE ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
RELUCTANT SUSPICION
RESCUED
STANDALONE CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
GETTING TRICKY
HEIR’S AFFAIR
MAESTRO’S MUSE
REMEMBER WHEN…
RIVALS ON AIR
SWEET SEAS
THIRTEEN
XY FACTOR
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