First, everyone raids the food table, talking loudly. Sara doesn’t join them, instead sitting casually near the card table with a pleasant expression on her face like she enjoys watching them enjoying themselves. I help myself to some dim sum. No one talks to me, though I get some friendly smiles and head nods. I hesitate to interrupt their conversation in Russian. After everyone eats, Sara pours vodka into the shot glasses. This seems to be an indicator that the game will begin, because plates are left on the side table and everyone wanders over to the card table with their drinks.
Ivan stands next to the game table. “Before we play, a toast.” He lifts his glass high in the air, and we all follow suit.
Ivan lifts his glass toward Sara and then me. “To our hostess with the mostess and her royal friend.”
Everyone clinks glasses and downs the shot. Ho-yah! Bu-u-urn. I suppress a grimace. I’m more of a beer drinker than vodka, but when in Brooklyn…
Finally, everyone takes a seat at the card table. Sara announces the round to a jovial cheer from the guys.
The dealer begins, and the conversation is in English now, probably because of me. The guys banter back and forth over who’s been eating too much pizza and putting on a paunch.
I’m prepared to lose, but I have to make it look good, not like I did it on purpose.
Half the guys are easy to read, looking at their hole cards immediately after they’re dealt, their expressions pleased or disappointed. I’m not the only one catching their tells. Two of the players play like pros—emotionless but observant.
“Have you been playing together long?” I ask casually.
“Since August,” Alexy says. “Ivan got the introduction to Sara through Sergei. We all knew each other in different ways, gradually bringing it to ten.”
“We started with five,” Sara says. “I think ten’s more fun, don’t you?”
“I like it,” Alexy says.
There’s a round of agreement and then someone proposes another toast to the ten of them. I take the shot and catch Sara slip off to the corner for her juice chaser. I bet she spit that one out. I’m feeling really warm and relaxed now. I should get myself a chaser too, so I don’t veer into drunk territory and lose sight of my purpose here. I don’t care if the guys never do chasers. As my twin likes to point out when I do what I want, I’m comfortable enough in my masculinity to pull it off. Besides, I’m on a mission to make sure Sara isn’t in danger. He-man enough right there. Ha!
I don’t want to get up from the table, so I signal to Sara with a really obvious drink gesture, tipping my imaginary glass to my lips.
“More vodka!” Ivan calls to Sara. “The prince needs more vodka.”
“Juice chaser would be good too,” I say, sending her a meaningful look.
She grins. “I’m on it.”
I stick to Sara’s method of using the juice chaser to casually spit my vodka into for the next shot. No one gives me shit about the chaser. They’re all having a great time.
An hour later, I’ve lost on purpose, and a few of the guys have triumphant gleams in their eyes. I don’t lose a horrible amount. Just enough to make everyone happy.
Sara stays quietly standing in the background, looking like she’s enjoying being here as host. She doesn’t comment on wins or losses, only chiming in when they address her, which becomes more frequent as the night goes on. All warm friendly talk. No one’s out of line, so I relax.
Yuri arrives, a tall man in his twenties with slicked-back dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. The guys greet him cheerfully. Sara introduces us, and then I step away from the table so he can take my place. I head over to Sara. Normally, I’d leave once I’m done playing, but I want to stick close to Sara to see how things play out.
“Everyone’s having a good time,” I say to her in a low voice.
“That’s the plan,” she says cheerfully. “A good time for all. I saw what you did there with the juice chaser.”
“Yeah, well, it was a good idea you had.” I return my attention to the game. I need to find out last names so I can look into everyone later, just to be sure everything is okay.
The night passes uneventfully. Just guys having a good time. It’s late when Yuri makes his move, asking the guys if they want to get in on a real estate deal. He only has a slight accent. “Prince Adrian, you could join in too. I’ve got a lead on some industrial land in Queens. It’s a sure thing. Queens is like the next Brooklyn. You’d get your investment back fivefold.” He passes his business cards around the table and leaves one for me on the end, tapping it with his fingers and inclining his head toward me.
“I’m investing in my homeland right now, but I’ll think about it,” I say, striding over and tucking the card in my pocket just for reference. Now I have a last name for Yuri to look up later.
He nods and turns back to the guys, switching to Russian. There seems to be some interest and a few nods. Real estate in nearby Queens sounds legit to me. Maybe Silvia was worried for nothing.
The game ends with Sergei in a snit over his loss, throwing his cards down and challenging Ivan to a fistfight. He says it in English, and I suspect it’s because he wants Sara to know what he’s up to.
Sara steps in right on cue, smoothing things over. “It’s late. Game will be back on Thursday. More fun, more chances to win. How about we raise the buy-in to one hundred K? Makes it that much easier to recoup quickly.”
Sergei huffs, his dark eyes murderous on Ivan. “Be a man and step outside.”
Ivan grabs him by the shirt collar and hauls him up close. “Get out of my home. You are no longer welcome here.”
Sara hovers nearby. “Next game is in a hotel suite. Perfect for everyone. Sergei, I really hope to see you there.” There’s a hint of flirtation in her voice.
Sergei yanks Ivan’s hands off him and straightens his dress shirt. He turns to Sara. “I will be there for you, beautiful Sara.”
“See you then,” Sara says with a sunny smile. “Goodnight.”
He swaggers out the door.
Does she always handle the guys by being flirty?
The moment we’re safely back in the car on the way to her apartment, I ask, “How many times have you been asked out by one of the guys?”
She waves a hand airily. “Don’t worry about it. Harmless flirting. Everyone knows I don’t date a player, or do anything else with them. It’s strictly poker and friendship.”
“And how do they know that?”
She sighs. “Because, if they ask me out, that’s what I tell them.”
“Who asked you out?”
“Just Sergei, and yes, I explained my policy of keeping it professional.”
I clench my jaw, a rare stab of jealousy making me more irritated than I have a right to be. Sara isn’t mine. I force my mind back to my purpose tonight. I don’t think her players are organized crime—they seem like regular guys—but I also don’t think she’s out of danger. I’m concerned about the risk she takes handling the money, both by taking the buy-in home with her and by covering their bets.
I open my mouth to address the money issue, but what comes out is a growl of possessiveness that surprises even me. “Don’t talk to them in a flirty way. They’ll get the wrong idea.”
She exhales sharply. “Jesus, Adrian. What is this? I can talk however I want to. Sweet goes a lot further with these guys. I’m the one who keeps it light and fun.”
“By using their attraction to you?”
She lifts one shoulder. “I can’t help it if guys are attracted to me. That’s their problem. Not mine.”
“So you don’t find any of them attractive?”
She rolls her eyes. “They’re all attractive. It doesn’t matter. I’m there for the game and the tips. I don’t date players.”
I calm down a little. I reassure myself that what I thought was jealousy was actually more protectiveness than anything else. “How much did you collect in tips tonight?” I saw the guys handing her chips and wads of bills a
s they each took their leave.
Her face lights up. “Sixty K. Some of them were extra happy to have you at the game and also glad to be in on a sure thing with the land development deal. They were feeling extra generous.”
Her suitcase of money is safely in the trunk of the car, but anyone who knew about her game could track her down at her apartment and take it. She lives alone. She’s small, shorter than my sister. My protective instincts are perfectly justified in this case.
“You need a guard,” I say. “I don’t like you handling the money by yourself.”
“I told you I can’t afford that. I’ll look into it as soon as I have enough for Chloe’s tuition. I need to save enough to get her through undergrad; then I can consider spending elsewhere. It’s a calculated risk.”
I keep my voice even. “I’ll cover the cost of a guard.”
“No, I’m not taking your money. It’s fine. I only have the money in hand for a short time and then it goes in my safe.”
“Your safe,” I echo. “And how hard would it be to get you to open that safe if someone broke in?” My mind goes to a dark place, and I don’t like the risk she’s taking at all.
She clamps her mouth shut and looks straight ahead.
I press on. “And what if one of the players became aggressive after the game? Sergei almost had a fight.”
She shakes her head. “I know how to talk to these guys. Besides, I’m the key to their game. They love it. And every one of them is thrilled to be there. I actually had to turn some guys away. I screened them for deep pockets and playing ability ahead of time. It’s an honor to be at a Sara Travers game.”
I still don’t like it, but I’ll wait and see how it plays out tomorrow when she’s collecting and doling out money. She may not be mine now, but she’s still my Sara from golden carefree summers. Nothing can happen to her.
I give her hair a tug. It’s as silky soft as it looks. “An honor to be at a Sara Travers game. Wow, aren’t you something special?”
She grins. “I am. So do you feel better about my game now? Report back to Silvia that all is well.”
“I want to watch collections tomorrow. Then I’ll report back.”
She stiffens. “You can’t come into people’s places with me on collections. They hate to be the loser who has to pay up. I have to keep it like a fun social visit. The last thing they’ll want is another guy witnessing it.”
“I’ll wait in the car. If anyone gives you trouble, I’ll be nearby with Jack.”
Her green eyes flash. “There’s not going to be any trouble, except for the trouble you might cause by being there.”
“I’ll be discreet.”
She crosses her arms. “Sorry, but a black Mercedes with tinted windows isn’t exactly discreet.”
“They all live in wealthy neighborhoods, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So it should fit right in.”
She narrows her eyes. “Your car sticks out. Most of them don’t own cars. They walk or use a ride app. A car’s a hassle in Brooklyn.”
“Tell them I’m your boyfriend, and we’re going out afterward.”
“I’m not going to tell them that.”
The car pulls up to her place. I get out and get her suitcase for her, intending to see her safely inside with it. “I’m walking you in,” I inform her.
She sighs. “Fine.”
I follow her upstairs and watch her dig her key out of her purse by her apartment door. “So why won’t you tell them I’m your boyfriend? Don’t you know I’m a catch?”
She shakes her head. “Ya know, for someone who’s been here for, like, two seconds, you’re awfully pushy about the way I do business.” She opens her door.
I follow her in and set her suitcase next to the coffee table. “So?”
She locks the door and turns back to me. A tense beat passes, our eyes locked.
Her voice is breathy. “So it’s a lie. You’re not my boyfriend.” She looks up at me under her lashes, a pink flush to her cheeks. She wants me to kiss her.
I lower my voice to a husky tone. I may be aggravated with the risk she’s taking, but I’m also deeply drawn to her. She’s like the missing piece to a puzzle, the perfect fit I hadn’t known I was searching for until I found her again. “So kiss me and make it the truth.” It’s a dare and an invitation. I want you.
She steps closer. “I’m not kissing you.”
“Bet you’re too damn scared.” Kiss me.
“I don’t operate on a bet anymore.”
I close the distance. Sara Travers can’t resist me. “Shame. You were more fun when you did.” Let’s see what you got.
Her eyes widen, and then she grabs my head and kisses me hard on the lips. A surge of triumph shoots through me.
She pulls back, and we eye each other. We both want more. I can feel it.
She kisses me again, softer now, her hand resting on my cheek. “Adrian.”
I slide my hand into her silky hair and take the kiss I’ve been aching for. It’s hot and hungry. I’m greedy for more, my arms wrapping around her, bringing her close.
Next thing I know we’re on her futon, and she’s straddling my lap, her skirt hiked up to her hips, her fingers gripping my hair, kissing me urgently. It’s heaven and hell at the same time. I need so much more.
She breaks the kiss, breathing hard, her fingers tangled in my hair. “I swore I wouldn’t do this.”
I stroke my fingers down her throat. Her pulse is beating rapidly. So’s mine. “Why not?”
“Because…” She swallows visibly, looking away. One of her tells—avoiding eye contact. “Because I want to remember you as part of my sweet past.”
I kiss her gently. “Tell me the truth. Why not?” If she’s really opposed to exploring what may be between us, I’ll back off.
“That’s the truth,” she insists, staring at my mouth.
I have a feeling there’s more to it, like maybe she still has me tangled up with Villroy and those associations with her parents, but I’ll have to wait until she’s ready to say it.
I hold her jaw, stroking her soft cheek with my thumb. “I’ll always be part of your past. That’s how time works. Past is the past. Present is…” I nuzzle into her neck, working my way up to her ear, breathing in her sweet scent before I give the lobe a tug with my teeth. “Right here, right now. I want you.”
Her green eyes are dilated. She wants me too. I love that I can read her so easily. “For how long?”
“Until we’re both gasping for air.”
Chapter Six
Adrian
She smiles and gets off my lap, yanking her skirt back in place. “I think it’s better if we don’t get tangled up that way.”
Damn, I lost her. I barely resist grabbing her and hauling her back. “I like getting tangled up that way.”
She smooths her hair. “Well, so do I, but then it’ll be awkward and you’ll leave, and it just sounds messy. Let’s keep things neat between us.”
A beat passes in silence as we eye each other once more, the tension thick in the air.
I stand in front of her, close but not too close. “Aren’t you curious how we’d be together? I mean, I know a lot more about women now than when I was twelve. You liked my first kiss enough to propose to me.” I grin.
She puts her hand over my mouth. “Not another word, you tempting devil. And I proposed before the kiss.”
“Because I was your hero.” I take her hand and kiss her palm and then the sensitive underside of her wrist. She shivers. I release her hand, and she stares straight ahead.
“You play dirty,” she says in a hoarse voice.
“Play with me.”
“Adrian!”
“Sara!”
She takes off her blazer and sets it neatly across her arm. “No.”
“Okay.”
Her brows shoot up over wide eyes. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. I’ll just play by myself. Want to watch?”
; She laughs.
This is going to be torture. I want her even more now that I’ve had a taste. I can be patient. Really. I can.
“Put your money in your safe and then I’ll go,” I tell her.
“But then you’ll know where I stash my money.”
“You really think I’m going to steal from you?”
Her cheeks tinge with pink. “Sorry. No. I’m just naturally distrustful of people.”
“I’m not people. I’m your hero.”
She wags her finger at me as she heads to the tiny kitchen. “You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
I watch her pull the safe from the oven. Not a bad hiding place considering the limited places where she could hide something in her apartment.
She gathers the money and chips from her suitcase, sets them on the coffee table, and then sits on the futon with the safe, about to do the combination. “Don’t look.”
I sit next to her on the futon and slap a hand over my eyes. “Your secret code is safe with me. Let me guess, Chloe’s birthday.”
“How did you know?”
I drop my hand. “You just told me, and it’s not hard to guess. Use something random.”
“But then how will I remember it?”
“You’ll remember it because it’s important.”
She opens the safe and quickly shoves tonight’s tips in there. I spy stacks of hundreds with rubber bands and some cards sticking up in the back. Wait a minute. Is that what I think it is?
I stare at her in shock. “You still have them. The pair of red twos.” It must mean something. She keeps them in her safe like they’re valuable. Did she hope we’d reunite one day?
She flushes bright red, peeks in the safe, and hastily slides the cards under the bills. “I need to get a bigger safe.”
I lean close. “You pretended you didn’t remember the pact, but you kept the pair.”
She bites her lower lip. “They’re my lucky cards.”
“Why?” For the first time, I’m hopeful. Like maybe it’s a sign we were meant to be. I thought she’d shut me out of her life for good, until I came barging back in, but maybe she never let me go, just like I never managed to let her go.
Royal Shark (The Rourkes, Book 6) Page 7