I lift my hand and signal for the bartender.

“What are you drinking?” I ask Lauren.

Her long eyelashes flutter and I suppress a groan. The woman sitting next to me isn’t just beautiful—there’s something else about her that I don’t quite understand. I’m burning with the desire to know what it is.

“I should buy you a drink,” she points out, pushing a strand of her black hair out of her eyes. “Since I made you spill yours.”

“Nonsense. That was the best thing that’s happened to me all night. Also, as of this moment, you’re my guest. It’s up to me to show you a good time.”

I didn’t mean for the comment to be suggestive, but apparently, Lauren takes it that way. Her eyes go a little wide at my statement, and she lightly bites down on her cheek.

Christ. Women shouldn’t be allowed to be this hot.

“Wine?” I ask. “Gin and tonic?”

“What are you having?” Her voice is low and flirtatious.

“An Old Fashioned, for both of us,” I tell the bartender.

He nods and turns to mix the drinks.

I turn to face Lauren once more. “Do you know anything about poker?”

Her musical laugh fills my ears. “I know that you play it with cards. Beyond that…no.”

“Would you like to learn?”

She eyes me suspiciously, although I suspect it’s just a ruse. This woman is as interested in me as I am in her. I can see it in her eyes.

“You’re offering to teach me?”

“I’m a good teacher.”

She presses her lips together in a cute attempt to stop a smile. “How do I know that?”

The bartender sets our drinks down in front of us. I raise mine for a toast.

“I wish I could say, ‘Do I look like the kind of guy you can trust?’, but I’m well aware that I don’t.”

Lauren laughs again and raises her drink. “You don’t look so bad to me.”

“Fair enough, and thank you. I should probably tell you, right up front, that I’m no saint, though.”

“I don’t mind.”

She clinks her glass against mine so hard that my fingers vibrate.

As I sip my drink, I take a second to look her up and down, realizing how incredible her body is. Hot desire swells in my gut, and I take in a sharp breath to quell it. Either this woman is going to be the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time, or she’s going to be my total undoing.

Here’s hoping she’s the former.

I take a hearty sip of the whiskey drink and enjoy the sting of it against my tongue. It’s decent, but I’ve had better elsewhere in my travels.

“Ready?” I ask Lauren.

She nods. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

I offer her my arm. “Right this way.”

She delicately wraps her hand around my forearm. In heels, the top of her head comes just to the bottom of my chin. She’s the perfect height for dancing and for laying her cheek on my shoulder.

We take our drinks and make our way through the casino. It’s become more alive in just the fifteen-or-so minutes since I’ve met Lauren. Though I know the place well, each time I visit, it’s different. The people make the environment and ambiance change each and every night. It’s the gamblers who give the venue life, imbuing the walls with their passion and rollercoaster of feelings of excitement and disappointment.

“The poker tables are right over here,” I say, using steering Lauren in the right direction as an excuse to place my hand on her lower back.

Trepidation passes across her face as we close in on a table. “I have no clue what to do,” she whispers frantically at me. “Remember?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”

I give a curt nod to the dealer—one who has worked here for years and knows me well—then pull a chair out for Lauren. It’s a round with no real bets, which means that most of the other players at the table are amateurs, just like her.

Taking my own chair, I push it in close to hers. The heat of her body burns through her dress and presses against my leg. For the second time in one night, I have to take a deep breath in order to get a hold of myself. This evening, when I got to the casino, playing a few games and warming up was the only thing on my mind. Now, I can’t stop thinking about the beautiful woman sitting right next to me, and the things I’d like to do to her on the poker table.

The cards are dealt, and I stay close to Lauren, guiding her through each hand. The other players aren’t annoyed by my presence; they’re all tourists, not serious players. One woman is even wearing a T-shirt from an amusement park in Florida. They’re not here to win. They’re here to ride the gondolas and take some pictures so they can brag to their coworkers.

“This is awesome,” Lauren whispers, turning her face to me. Her breath hits my cheek. Strawberries and cotton candy. That’s what she smells like. I bet she tastes like them, too.

The game ends with Lauren winning, and she shrieks with joy, throwing her arms around me. Most of the other players get up and wander off, ready for the next excitement. A figure enters the corner of my eye and takes a seat two chairs down from Lauren.

I instantly freeze up. If I were a dog, the hairs on my back would be standing straight on end, cartoon-like.

Maxime Petit smiles knowingly at me, all-too-aware of the effect his sudden appearance has had on me. He’s more tanned than he was the last time I saw him, but still wearing the tasteless, chunky gold jewelry that make him look like some kind of wannabe pimp. Add that to the white suit, and he might as well have a flashing neon sign over his head saying, ‘Warning: Pompous Ass.’

“Hello Jay,” he rumbles in his thick Belgian accent.

I’m not wasting my time playing mind games—which is what Maxime is saying hello to me for. “I don’t think this is the table you’re looking for, Petit.”

His eyes slide over to Lauren. “Oh, it’s definitely the table I was looking for.”

Fury flashes through me and my hands curl into fists. “There’s nothing here to win.”

“Are you sure about that?” he briefly addresses me before turning his attention back to Lauren. “Are you with him?”

Petit makes ‘him’ sound like a curse word.

Lauren glances over at me. “Yes, I am, actually,” she responds with some hesitation.

Petit’s upper lip curls. “Surely, you haven’t known him for very long.”

“We just met,” she responds coolly.

“Ah. So that explains it.”

I open my mouth, ready to tell him to fuck off, but Lauren speaks before I get the chance.

“Excuse me? And do I know you?”

He lifts his goateed chin. “Do you want to?”

“Based on the little you’ve said since sitting down, no. I don’t think I do.”

I smirk at her response. Lauren has more fire in her than I expected.

Petit remains unfazed. “I’m in,” he tells the dealer.

The cards fly across the green surface. Lauren picks hers up and quickly gauges the hand. She seems to already be comfortable with everything I taught her, and even eager to play another game. I keep my jaw clenched and my eyes anywhere but on Petit.

It’s been months since we last saw each other, but we’ve never seen eye to eye on anything, and our interactions have only become more painful since I beat his ass last year. The best word to describe Petit would be ‘infamous’; once you cross his path, you don’t forget him—especially with his bad attitude and reputation as a sore loser. I wasn’t there to see it, but a story made the rounds that he smashed the poker table at the Bellagio when he couldn’t handle losing the international championship.

Swallowing my loathing for the man lounging only a few seats away, I turn my attention back to Lauren. I’m going to make this night about her.

“Save the Queen,” I whisper into her ear.

She gives me a little hum of acknowledgment and desire blasts through me once again. Is there anything this woman can do that’s not sexy?

Across the table, Petit chuckles. “Are you sure you chose the right teacher? Wouldn’t you like to be taught to play by someone with a little more class?”

I bite down on my tongue. If I say one thing back, I’m going to blow up. With my anger unleashed even the smallest bit, I won’t be able to control it, and as much as I’d like to beat Maxime Petit into a pulp, this is neither the time nor place.

Lauren’s voice is cold. “Thanks, but I’ll only be playing with one man tonight.”

I don’t know if she meant for the statement to come out like that, but my body responds in a primal way to the words. Heat sizzles under my skin, and my dick twitches in my pants.

Petit’s face turns red, and even the fake tan can’t hide it. He tosses his cards onto the table in a dramatic display.

“I should have known any woman on Hammond’s arm would have as little class as him.”

He stands and practically knocks his chair out of the way as he leaves the table. It’s tempting to watch him stalk off, cradling his bruised ego, but instead, I turn my eyes to Lauren.

“Bravo,” I commend her.

She shyly ducks her chin. “He was being a jerk.”

“He’s always a jerk,” I mutter.

The other players seem to have taken Petit’s explosion as a sign that the game was done. With everyone dispersing, I take Lauren gently by the arm.

“Let’s go do something else.”

She turns her heart-shaped face up toward me. “Like what?”

“Right now?” I give it some thought. “I can think of a hundred other things I’d like to do with you.”