by April Angel
“Good evening, ma’am. Would you like to try your hand at blackjack?”
She opened her mouth to reply but stopped when a man walked up behind the girl. Her breath caught in her chest so fast she almost choked.
“Go take a break. I’ll take care of this for a few.” His deep voice made a heated shudder crawl down her spine.
“Thank you. You’re the best.” The girl smiled warmly and strolled away.
He turned to glance at Lucky, pinning her in place with his steel-gray eyes. She was having a weird reaction to this man. Her skin felt tight, hot. The longer she met his gaze, the more she wanted to tear his clothes off. Talk about chemistry in the first degree.
“Would you like to play?” His low rasp slipped through her skin, heating her veins.
“Yes,” she replied, her own voice husky.
Things were about to get interesting. Who was this guy? From the way he was dressed—with a tux that fit to perfection and short, stylish blond hair—she knew he wasn’t hired help. Pure power emanated from him. The intense way he stared at her, dark and deep, made her hormones stand to attention.
She gulped but held his gaze. Sparks bounced between them.
He pulled out a card and placed it face down before her. He did the same for himself, and then added a second card facing up. It took her a second of mental manipulation to talk her fingers into not shaking so she could grab her cards and look at them.
Her gaze strayed from her perfect game to his hands. His big, sexy hands. Navy-blue cufflinks peeked from the sleeves of his jacket, and she shifted her gaze to his wrists. Shit, she was in trouble. Since when did she consider hands sexy? Maybe it was the long fingers with their neatly trimmed nails. Or it could be his smooth-looking skin, skin she kept visualizing contrasting against her own darker hue while his hands slid over her body. Whatever it was, it was making her dizzy with the need to touch him.
Licking her lips, she continued to work her way up to his face. She stopped at his chin and mentally caressed his clean-shaven jaw. Blood pumped and thickened in her veins the moment her gaze connected with his.
“I’ll stay,” she whispered, hoping he didn’t hear the tremble in her voice. Wiggling on the stool, she tried to rein in the wild mambo of arousal in her pussy.
He lifted a brow. A sinful smile split his lips. Her stomach flipped. Entranced by his mouth, she became solely focused on mental fantasies of sucking his firm-looking lips. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he knew how to kiss. It was written in the way he stood, proud and in control. His posture heightened the notion that he’d be one of those men who’d fuck her into stupidity. She wasn’t a mind reader, but the sizzle that kept sliding over her skin told her he would be trouble and probably worth every second.
He pulled another card. She glanced down, having lost all interest in the game but unwilling to lose her perfect hand.
“The house calls at twenty.” He watched her intently. Heat swarmed her neck and face. Every place his gaze touched left a small fire stamp on her skin, dampening her panties.
Flipping her cards over, she smiled when he stared at her hand, his shock visible. “Twenty-one.”
Chapter Two
Jared studied the caramel-skinned, buxom beauty in front of him with undisguised appreciation. He’d noticed her the moment she’d stepped into the ballroom with Max’s fiancée.
He dealt a new hand without asking, unwilling to let her escape. She’d been the reason he told his niece to take a break. Sensuality radiated from each of her curves, and he wanted to get his hands on her.
She swiped the tip of her pink tongue over her plump bottom lip and frowned at her cards.
“It’s OK. Not everyone’s luck holds in these card games.” He wanted to smack himself after the words came out, but fuck if he wasn’t dying to hear her voice again. The husky tone had caressed his cock in a feather-light touch.
Her eyes were filled with amusement when she glanced up at him. “I know that.” She wiggled in her seat. His thoughts went straight to the gutter. “I don’t worry too much about winning.”
She flipped another perfect game. Her pouty lips tipped up in a sexy come-hither grin. Fuck! He wanted to kiss her, touch her. Hell, he wanted to slide his hands up and down every curve he saw. Of course, he’d probably end up getting smacked for being fresh. But he was damn close to believing it would be worth the sting of her hand on his face to kiss her, if only to get a taste.
“Nice, but it won’t last.” Desire thrummed through his body each time their gazes met. Arousal spiked and his cock hardened to an uncomfortable degree.
“Oh?” She lifted her dark brows and curled her lip in a cheeky grin. Challenge filled her eyes. “What’s your name?”
He grinned at the flash of fire he saw in her gaze. “Jared. Jared Thomas.”
She leaned forward, her breasts straining against her flimsy low-cut top. “Well, Jared, care to make it more interesting?”
Hell yes! But first he needed to know who the sexy siren was that would be gracing his bed that night. “What’s your name?”
He watched her nibble her plump bottom lip before answering. “Luciana Rivas.”
Mastering the nearly overpowering urge to grab her by the hand and haul her out of there was not an easy task. He noticed her empty champagne flute and motioned a passing waiter to hand her a full glass. She took a sip of the bubbly. He watched her lick her lips again, lips he kept picturing wrapped around his cock, sucking him into her hot mouth. He leaned forward on the table, closer to her, and inhaled. The sexy, light scent tickling his nostrils made him think of satin sheets and sweaty bodies.
“What did you have in mind?” he asked.
Their gazes met. Arousal flickered to life in the depths of her whiskey-brown eyes. The longer they stared at each other, the brighter it blazed, beckoning him closer. His cock jerked in his dress pants, ready for action. Hell, he sure was glad he was behind the table, because no matter how good his poker face, he wouldn’t be able to hide that bit of evidence from her.
She shrugged. It was a dainty, sexy lift of her shoulders that pushed her breasts farther up her neckline. “You seem to be the expert here.”
He narrowed his eyes. She sounded like she was making fun of him, but she couldn’t possibly know he was anything other than a hired table attendant.
“I wouldn’t call myself a professional.” Oh yeah, he was a lying bastard all right. “But I have experience.”
Her gaze latched onto his lips and slowly traveled back up to meet his. He ground his teeth and fought the cock-hardening look she gave him. She licked her lips. “Let’s see if you’re right in your assumption that my luck won’t last.”
“What’s in it for me, gorgeous?”
She leaned closer. Their faces were only a foot apart now.
“What do you want?”
He wanted to close the distance, to taste her plump red lips, and allow her sexy perfume to fill his lungs. “Alone time…” He watched her eyes widen before he finished. “With you.”
The interest in her eyes grew, until her pupils dilated with arousal. She gulped but didn’t respond. He decided to taunt her into agreeing, into giving in to his wishes.
“It’s all right. It’s clear you’re going to lose anyway. I know the game.” He grinned, and because he couldn’t stop himself, he lifted a hand and caressed her cheek. Her skin was baby-soft and smooth.
Her eyes widened and then narrowed. “And if I win?”
Gotcha.
He felt like a lion that had landed on the perfect prey. Now to reel her in. “Whatever you want.”
A small frown marred her brow. She was thinking hard about whatever it was she was going to ask for. “Fine. If I win, you must do exactly what I say after the final game is over.”
“Deal.”
He lifted her hand from the table to his lips, nuzzled his lips against the back of her hand and watched her. He was rewarded with her pupils dilating further, until he could har
dly see any brown. Temptation pushed him to go for it and kiss her already, but this was one game he wasn’t willing to lose. “Let’s play.”
His mind drew a blank when he tried to remember the last time he’d wanted a woman this much. Luckily his poker face was better than most, so he was able to remain outwardly calm, when inside all he wanted to do was jump over the table and drag her, caveman-style, to his bedroom. “Best out of five?”
She sipped her champagne. Her eyes and body tempted him like no other woman’s ever had. Which was a feat, because he never let himself be guided by his cock. He wished he knew what it was about her that was so potent. Looking at her sent a shot of adrenaline rushing through his system.
“Sounds good.”
That husky voice of hers was wreaking havoc on his discipline. He’d worked years at hiding his feelings from the world, just so he could play the perfect hand. Nobody knew your game sucked if you never showed it. Besides, his experience taught him to keep shit to himself. Emotions, or at least letting them control you, could get a man killed.
He dealt a hand. She grinned, flipped a perfect game and lifted her brow. Her challenging self-assurance only pushed him to play another hand. She choked back a giggle. And won.
“Give up yet?”
Those were some war-inducing words.
“Not a chance, sweetheart.”
She appeared to be fighting the laughter from coming out. It took him a second to realize why. She won again. And again. She full on laughed, apparently unable to hold it off any longer. The sound was music to his ears.
“So…” She sipped her champagne and peered at him with curiosity. “Do you think my luck will hold the rest of the night?”
Lust coursed through him at her bold words, traveling down his body, urging him to get her out of there. Of course he liked sexy, curvy bodies as much as the next man, but he’d never wanted to run his fingers through a woman’s hair and feel how soft the strands were like he wanted to now. The thought of stripping her out of the tiny top and short skirt threatened his tenuous control. A flare of longing filled her eyes. It disappeared so fast he almost wondered if he'd imagined it. Air caught in his lungs at how vulnerable she’d looked for that flash of a moment.
“It depends on what it is you want.”
Mischief and boldness took over her gaze. What could she be thinking about? His mind took all kinds of sick and twisted turns down the path of getting her naked. Really naked. Really fast. One of his guests approached the table—a foreign dignitary he’d done work for, who happened to be in town for the weekend. The man’s predatory gaze was stuck on the woman Jared now considered his for the night. Good manners dictated he be polite to the man. But Jared wasn’t known for letting other men poach his catch.
“This table is closed,” he stated, his voice flat, right before the other man had a chance to sit.
His guest ignored him, took a seat, and focused on Luciana.
“Weren’t you in Paris a few months back for the McKinley-James wedding?” The man asked, his gaze much too interested in her rack.
Jared watched the color drain from her face. Her fingers tightened on the stem of the flute. She lifted it to her lips and drained the glass. Anger burned bright inside him at the discomfort he saw set in her features. He’d heard about the McKinley-James wedding, and had even been invited, since he’d done work for the head of the European Union. But he'd decided not to attend in favor of spending time with his niece and teaching her the ropes as his new assistant.
She placed a hand over her small clutch and nodded to the man. “I was, yes.”
“I knew I recognized you. I don’t think I could ever forget your face.” He laughed.
Even though her skin was naturally tanned, a blush crept its way to her cheeks.
“Yes, well it was an interesting affair.” She shifted and glanced at him. There was disappointment in her eyes.
“I’ll say. I’ve never been to a wedding where—”
She shot up to her feet.
“Excuse me, please.” She lifted her clutch to her chest as if ready to use it for a shield. A second later she’d stepped away from the stool. A small smile flitted on her lips when she turned to him one last time. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Thomas, but I think I need some air.”
Shocked into immobility by the turn of events and her reaction, he watched her make her way toward the open French doors. Those doors led to the outdoor garden, where people had gone to have more privacy. His shock was quickly replaced with defiance. No way in hell was she going to get rid of him that easily. They had a deal, and what he wanted, he got. And he wanted her—to get to know her better, to kiss her mouth, to slide his hands down every delicious curve on her body.
“Hey, Jared, you should’ve seen that wedding—”
With single-minded concentration, he watched her sexy body stroll outside. Irritation seared his tongue. He refrained from the urge to yell at the idiot who had ruined what had been working so well and marched around the table, leaving the man mid-speech. His sole focus was convincing her to spend the rest of the night with him. No matter the price.
Lucky’s heart pounded so hard she started to feel like she was going to hyperventilate. It would never go away. Her breakup with Nick would haunt her for as long as there were witnesses, photos, and videos of the ordeal. And damn, there were a whole mess of them all over the world.
Frustration flourished inside her. Rising to a furious degree that made her want to hit Nick, in the balls with a bat. She sighed, releasing some of the fury within her that the man who’d joined the table and interrupted her time with Jared had revived. He’d probably done her a favor. Jared had been so intense. His words. His looks. Everything about him sent off an alarm inside her head to watch it. Heading down one of the garden paths, she inhaled the scent of fresh flowers and pine. Thick hedges and baby pine trees lined the sides of the paved stone walkway. The moon was full, bright, and working in tandem with antique streetlamps to light the way.
She stopped when she reached a glossy dark green metal bench in front of a fountain. A soft growl escaped her as she sat down, the metal hard and unforgiving under her butt. Her mind kept bringing her back to the past. The past she didn’t want to think about. She studied the figure at the center of the fountain. The angel, whose wings were curled protectively in front of him, held a woman in his arms. What made it hard for her to look away was the way the artist had been able to show the woman’s complete trust in the angel.
But Lucky wasn’t looking for an angel, or even a man, to depend on. All she wanted was to meet someone who wouldn’t lie to her. No more lies. Was that so hard? Her luck in the love department sucked big-time, and it appeared that finding a person to trust was not in the cards for her.
“You left.”
She jolted in her seat at the sound of Jared’s voice. Heart hammering in her chest, she turned to the sound of his voice. He’d caught her off guard, daydreaming about a man who wouldn’t lie. She almost snorted at her own idiocy. Like that was going to happen. The antique lamps all over the garden kept the place well lit and allowed her to see his features clearly. He seemed irritated.
“What are you doing here?”
He made his way toward her, hands buried deep in his pockets, with an unreadable expression on his face.
“We had a deal.”
If she were to compare his voice with something, it would be steel—hard and uncompromising. Her pussy quivered at his no-nonsense tone. She stared at his lips, watching him flatten them into a thin, straight line. Combine that with the way a muscle quivered on his cheek, and she was positive he wasn’t happy. His gaze was filled with shadowy promise and possessive intent. Arousal thickened in her blood.
“The game ended.”
He took another step, closing the distance between them. “You won.”
Butterflies took flight in her stomach; dipping and diving until she swore there were flight lessons going on in her chest. She cleared he
r throat from the knot that had appeared out of nowhere.
“I won’t hold you to that.”
He held out a hand for her. “But I will hold you to your end.”
Excitement buzzed over her skin, caressing her body with a thrill of anticipation. The amount of sizzling chemistry dancing between them was enough to burn down a bed…or two. She wanted to take him up on his offer and do some of the bad—OK, more like depraved—things she’d been visualizing while they’d played. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? But…a one-night stand? She should be honest. It wasn’t her type of thing. Then again, relationships that ended so badly she erupted in hives every time she thought of the breakup was not what she wanted either.
So she wasn’t into one-night anything. At this point she just wanted to try something different. To forget. She studied his outstretched hand and felt something push her to grab hold. She met his gaze and held it. Maybe it wasn’t the norm for her, but for tonight, she didn’t want to think. She wanted to feel.
Satisfaction filled his gray eyes. His warm hand enveloped hers and pulled her closer to him. Their bodies were mere inches apart. He lifted a hand to her face, stroked a long finger lightly down her jaw. The hairs on her arms stood on end. He held her in place with his penetrating look. Her breath hitched in her chest from his intent gaze. She’d never had this kind of electric pull toward a man. She inhaled the scent of sandalwood, bergamot, and mandarin from the cologne he wore. It was a scent that she would always connect with this very moment. Forever. Her pussy ached, and she had the urge to rub her nose all over his neck—heck, all over his body.
“What would you like to do?”
Growing need gathered in her core. His voice, that sexy churned gravel, turned her nipples into tight pebble points. She was going to go with her gut this time. And it told her to get her hands on his body as soon as possible. Like yesterday. Maybe that was her lust talking, and not common sense, but she didn’t give a rat’s ass anymore.