Make You Mine

by Jackie Ashenden

  He was thirty-five now, not sixteen. The owner of an incredibly successful chain of clubs. Rich and powerful in his own right. Conrad had no power over him, none at all.

  Katya said nothing, her face smoothing over, becoming expressionless. He’d hurt her probably, but that was too bad. What could he say anyway? I was raped by that fucker over there when I was sixteen. Or no, he couldn’t even say raped. Not when he’d given his consent, hoping like hell Conrad would leave his father alone afterwards. That Conrad wouldn’t follow up on the threats to tell Alex’s mother and sister about Daniel St. James’s secret life.

  Yet in the end it had been for nothing.

  Alex had let his father’s friend have him and his father had died anyway, his mother and sister left struggling. And he, unable to bear the shame, had run away.

  Yeah, sure. He could tell Katya all that. He’d done it before after all, the truth masquerading as a lie. But she’d see through him and he couldn’t bear that. He didn’t want this strong, courageous woman to know what a fucking coward he was.

  “Of course,” she said, her voice devoid of expression. “Forgive me. I should not have asked.”

  Across the room, Conrad was now moving on to another group of people, doing his rounds of the players. No doubt one of his minions had informed him of Alex’s presence, but Conrad didn’t look in Alex’s direction. At least not yet.

  Perhaps the guy didn’t care. Perhaps the guy didn’t even remember.

  Alex’s hand holding the wineglass had begun to shake, so he put it down, curling his fingers into a fist.

  Christ, he needed to pull himself together, because Conrad was going to speak to him, no doubt about it, and if he couldn’t handle that he was never going to survive a whole fucking game. He couldn’t afford to show he was rattled because any chink in his armor would be a weakness that another player might exploit.

  Alex’s confidence and his ability to remain cool under pressure, to remain in control, not to mention his card-counting ability, were his most important weapons when it came to poker and he needed to make sure all of those abilities were rock solid.

  Conrad had stopped to talk to the man near the fire, but not for long. The man’s stony expression didn’t change as Conrad said something to him, then turned away, beginning to come down toward Alex’s end of the room.

  In the armchair beside him, Katya shifted. And then her hand covered his on the table.

  He wasn’t expecting it, a shock of heat holding him still for a long moment. And when he turned his head, he found her looking steadily back, an expression he couldn’t read in her eyes.

  “I will protect you, sir,” she said quietly, seriously. “Have no fear.”

  * * *

  Anger flared, hot and blue in his eyes. But she was ready for it. He was a man who hid his emotions well and he wouldn’t like knowing she’d spotted his fear. No man did, especially when a woman was the one who’d noticed it.

  But then how could she not? Alex was only meters away from his enemy and drawn as tight as a bow, his long, lean body almost vibrating with tension. And she knew fear; she’d experienced it herself many times on the missions she’d undertaken with her unit.

  But as the General had taught her, fear could be harnessed, could be a valuable tool as long as you didn’t let it get the better of you. It could get your heart pumping and your mind thinking coldly, cleanly.

  However, in order to harness it, you first had to admit you were afraid.

  She didn’t look away from Alex’s hot blue gaze. She knew how galling it was for men to have a woman protect them. But she also knew that when danger threatened, when their lives were at stake, most didn’t care who stopped the bullet as long as it was stopped.

  “I’m not afraid,” he said in a hard voice. “Remember who the fuck you are, Katya Ivanova.”

  “I remember,” she responded levelly. “Regardless of who I’m pretending to be, I’m your bodyguard. My job is to protect you. And I will.”

  His mouth twisted. “Look around, sweetheart. There are no bullets here.”

  Katya ignored the bitter sarcasm in his tone. He was trying to hide the fact that he was afraid; that was obvious to her. And no wonder, with his enemy making his way across the room toward them.

  It would be better not to argue, not now. It would only make things worse and she didn’t want that. Her job was to help him, not further expose him.

  You care too much, Katya. That has always been your weakness.…

  Her father’s voice echoed in her head, but she ignored it. This was not about caring. This was about doing her job. That was all.

  As she remembered how Alex’s fingers had tightened on her arm as they’d entered the casino, pulling her close, an idea came to her.

  “But not all fatal shots come from guns,” she murmured. “Stay in your seat.” Before he could respond, she rose from her chair and sidled around the table to him. He leaned back, his gaze on her, still as a hunting cat. She smiled at him, just in case anyone happened to see past the screens surrounding their little seating area; then without hesitation she turned and sat directly in his lap.

  At first all she felt was heat pressing against her thighs and buttocks, up along her spine. Then, slowly, the tight coil of his muscles beneath her. She hadn’t imagined his tension; she could feel it like an electrical current singing through him.

  She leaned back against his chest, willing him to play along. No, there were no bullets here, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t in danger. And her job was to put herself between him and that danger, even physically if she had to.

  Are you sure that isn’t an excuse to get close to him?

  No, of course it wasn’t. She’d had two whole days to beat this inconvenient sexual awakening into submission and in the privacy of his personal gym she’d had a good stab at it, working out until she was physically exhausted. Until the ache inside her had vanished.

  The problem was that it hadn’t stayed gone, reappearing every time she got near him.

  Luckily, since he’d remained working in his office for the past two days, she hadn’t had the opportunity. She’d spent the time she wasn’t in the gym trying to find more information about the Four Horsemen and the Apocalypse game. But as she’d discovered even before she’d left New York, there wasn’t much. The game itself, apart from the fact that it was one of poker’s most elite tournaments, had a great deal of secrecy surrounding it–there were rumors that it didn’t even have a prize pool; the notoriety gained from being the Apocalypse winner was apparently reward enough.

  Except that information didn’t help her now as she sat in Alex’s lap, the heat of him pressing everywhere, waking the ache she’d hoped to get rid of.

  He didn’t say anything, remaining silent and still beneath her. And she wondered if she’d made a mistake. That perhaps this was too far even for one of his girlfriends. Then one arm slid around her waist, pulling her tight against him, his palm on her stomach, his fingers splayed out in a strong possessive hold. Her heartbeat began to speed up as his breath whispered over her bare shoulders, as he shifted, settling her more firmly in his lap.

  No, she hadn’t made a mistake. The tension in his muscles had begun to loosen, his breathing becoming more regular.

  “What are you doing, sweetheart?” he murmured in her ear, making a strange shiver sweep over her skin. “Is this some kind of new bodyguard move I wasn’t aware of?”

  “You want to appear strong and confident,” she murmured back. “What is stronger and more confident than you being intimate with your lover in front of everyone?”

  “Jesus.” He gave a soft laugh. “I think you’re enjoying this role way too much.”

  But she ignored that because Conrad South was making his way toward them, an insincere smile on his handsome face.

  “Alex,” the older man said, approaching the table. “They told me you were here, hiding down the back. Good to see you again. It’s been a long time.” He held out a hand.


  Beneath her, Katya felt the flex and release of Alex’s muscles, tension coiling, then loosening. “Hasn’t it? You’ll forgive me if I don’t get up,” he said carelessly, his voice smooth and regular. “As you can see, I have my hands full at the moment.”

  South’s hazel eyes met Katya’s for a second. He smiled at her. It was probably meant to be friendly, but there was also something greedy in it. As if she were a jewel in a shop window he wanted to buy but couldn’t afford. “I can see and I approve.” He sat in Katya’s abandoned chair, running a hand through his perfectly coiffed black hair. He was going gray at the temples and he looked as if his flesh sat more heavily on him than it should. Yet he had a handsome man’s confidence and projected a powerful man’s authority, the two combining in an undeniable charisma.

  Katya had met men like him before, at the private functions her father had hosted for his political friends.

  She distrusted South instantly.

  “Conrad,” Alex said, “Meet my newest acquisition. Katya Ivanova.”

  South leaned back in his chair, his gaze heavy lidded and sleepy. Yet the gaze beneath those lids was sharp as a blade. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Ivanova. I hope this bastard is treating you well.”

  “Yes, thank you,” she replied, settling her head back on Alex’s shoulder. She could hear his heartbeat. It was racing.

  “So polite.” That edged hazel gaze shifted from her to Alex. “Where do you find them? I didn’t think you liked blondes.” South was still smiling and yet there was something unfriendly under those words. A meaning she didn’t understand.

  “Oh, I’ve discovered I prefer them,” Alex answered. “After all, isn’t that what gentlemen do?”

  “I wouldn’t know, not being a gentleman.” The older man tilted his head. “I’m supposed to welcome you to the game. Tell you what an honor it is to have you at the table. Except…”

  “Except you didn’t invite me.”

  “No.” The word was said on a long breath. “I didn’t. Which begs the question as to who did.”

  Alex shifted again, his body moving under hers as he got something out of his pocket and leaned forward, putting it on the table in front of them. His arm tightened around her as he did so, keeping her exactly where she was. When he took his hand away she saw the two silver dice sitting on the polished wooden surface.

  Conrad’s gaze dropped and he looked at them for a long moment. Then he reached for one, picking it up and studying it a second before placing it back on the table.

  “They’re not fakes,” Alex said.

  “No, I can see that. How did you get them?”

  “UPS delivered them straight to my door.”

  The older man gave a short, hard laugh. “Stop fucking with me, boy.”

  “Oh, been there, done that.” Alex’s voice was lazy. “I’ve got no desire to do it again.”

  An expression Katya couldn’t read crossed the other man’s face, the smile slowly fading. “Tell me where you got them or else you don’t play.”

  “It doesn’t matter how I got them. All that matters is that I have them. That’s all I need to play, Conrad.” Alex said the name like it tasted bitter in his mouth. Like a curse.

  “I can prevent you from playing.”

  “No, you can’t. In fact, you have only one rule: If you have the invite, you can play.” Alex paused. “At least, from what I hear.”

  South’s features had settled into complete and utter neutrality, blank as a wall. “Yes, and they are my rules. To make or break as I see fit.”

  “So you really want to draw attention to yourself by forbidding me to play, hmmm?” Alex sounded almost amused. “That’s not like you. Anyone would think you were afraid.”

  The other man didn’t move. “Those are Tremain’s dice, aren’t they?”

  Katya felt Alex’s muscles tense again. Except when he spoke he sounded bored. “Are they? Do you all have a pair then?” He laughed. “No, on second thought, I don’t think you do. None of you do, you fucking ball-less cowards.”

  Conrad smiled. “You sound angry, son. Perhaps you need more than that fine piece of pussy sitting on your lap. Perhaps you need something a little harder, rougher.”

  The arm around Katya’s waist was like a steel band, rigid with tension. She let out a breath, relaxing against him, her muscles going loose, hoping to ease whatever it was that held him tight.

  Then suddenly she felt his fingers in her hair, turning her head on his shoulder so she looked up into his burning, blue eyes. A scorching glance that held fury and determination and something else she didn’t understand.

  That was the only warning she got.

  His fingers curled tight and he bent his head, covering her mouth with his.

  Her mind blanked in shock, searing heat bursting inside her, that ache she’d been trying to ignore for the past two days springing back to life, hungry and wanting.

  She’d never been kissed before, and in the few vague fantasies she’d allowed herself she’d imagined kisses to be soft and dry and, she hoped, pleasant.

  But this kiss was none of those things.

  It was gentle, with a deep, insistent sensuality that had her mouth opening in response before she could even think straight.

  Alex’s tongue traced the line of her lower lip, then slipped inside her mouth, exploring her. She tasted the wine he’d been drinking and something else, a delicious, spicy edge that made her want to explore him in return.

  His fingers tightened in her hair, holding her as he stroked his tongue deeper still, the sensuality of the kiss turning hotter, blatantly sexual.

  The world began to dim around the edges and she couldn’t remember what she was doing or why she was here. There was only this moment, this contact. The heat of his mouth on hers and the driving ache that she knew no amount of working out was ever going to get rid of.

  She wanted to respond to him, to kiss him back, but she didn’t really know how. And then, suddenly, way before she was ready, he lifted his head. For a second he only looked at her and she was lost in the fierce blue glitter of his eyes, in the raw heat and hunger she saw in them. Then he turned his head, that seductive mouth of his turning up into a satisfied smile. “There’s nothing wrong with this fine piece of pussy, believe me,” he drawled, his voice holding a sensual note to it. “Why the fuck would I want rough when I have warm, wet, and willing?”

  Another shock went through her. She’d forgotten about the man sitting opposite them. Forgotten completely. And the kiss had apparently been for his benefit.

  Katya struggled to get her breathing under control, for the strange shaking that had taken hold of her to ease. She let her head tilt against Alex’s shoulder so she could see the other man’s face.

  If their little display had affected him, he gave no sign, merely lifting a shoulder. “Then why are you here?”

  “I’m here same as the rest of the players. Because I got an invite. Because I want a good game and a decent opponent.” Alex paused. “And because I’m hoping that this is the year you decide to play.”

  South’s smile deepened into one of genuine amusement. “I don’t play, son. I never do.”

  “Oh, I think that perhaps this year you’ll make an exception.”

  “And why the hell would I want to do that?”

  “Because if you do…” Alex paused again and she could hear his heart beat faster, feel his lean body beneath her become tense again. His fingers moved in her hair, a gentle, absent caress. “You might get the chance to, uh, revisit happy memories, shall we say.”

  Something sparked in the other man’s gaze, a brief flare, and then it was gone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  This time it was Alex’s turn to laugh and she couldn’t help shivering at the sensuality implicit in the sound. “Don’t be coy, Conrad; of course you do. Or is rough not so much what you’re into these days?”

  Her mouth burned, her thinking sluggish, her heartbeat still out of control.
The undercurrent of the conversation had entered territory she didn’t understand and everything felt extremely dangerous. Like a match in a gas-filled room, one spark could make everything explode.

  Dear God, no wonder the General had told her that sex was a distraction. That it diluted the blood and clouded the mind. He was right it did. She had to concentrate. Be cold, sharp, and clear.

  Shifting in Alex’s lap, she put one hand on his thigh and squeezed once, a silent warning to him of her concern. Then she gave the room a quick scan, watching for any other danger. But the only person looking at them was the tall, scarred merc standing next to the fire, his black gaze full of an emptiness that was horribly familiar to her. She’d recognized it in soldiers who’d seen and done traumatic things. Men who’d lost their souls.

  Cold began to steal through her. What was going on here?

  The mercenary was dangerous, yes, but she got the sense that the real danger was coming from the man sitting opposite Alex. And the strange tension between the two of them. A tension that seemed almost … sexual. Which couldn’t be right, surely? She didn’t think Alex was into men; at least she’d never seen him with any nor had he ever displayed the slightest sign of interest.

  His hand settled over hers where it rested on his thigh and pressed down, holding it there, the warmth of the contact stopping her breath. Making her forget the mercenary beside the fire, making her forget why she was even here in the first place.

  All she could think about was the searing heat of Alex’s mouth, the softness of it as it moved on hers, the rich taste of him—

  Remember who you are. And what you’re supposed to be doing.

  “You wouldn’t know what I’m into, son,” Conrad was saying thoughtfully. “It’s men’s business and I don’t see any men sitting here.”

  “Petty,” Alex murmured. “Very petty. I thought you were better than that.” Amusement entered his tone again. “Just think of all the satisfaction you’d get out of beating me and reminding yourself of the good old days. It’s a great deal, wouldn’t you say? How can you lose?”

  The good old days … What did that mean? And why was Alex goading him into participating in the game?