Hurrying to the open door, Paulette reached where he stood, drenched.

“Remi, let me take your coat.”

“Merci,” he replied, thanking her, as water dripped onto the Persian carpet.

In a French accent still heavy after over a hundred years away from Paris, she called out, “Henri! Clean this up! Tout de suite! Now!” with a snap of her fingers.

“This house runs as precisely as a clock.”

“More like a ticking time bomb, with your brother and his antics.”

“Ah, but you still love him as much as the night you met.”

Paulette grinned, showing her gleaming white teeth.

“Of course, but he gets so grumpy when he loses.”

“Luc? Not winning? Say it isn’t so.”

“Oh, but it is. You must go and save him, Remi. He became so agitated earlier, I took him to the side and threatened to contact The Directive if he didn’t calm himself.” She giggled and then gestured to the hallway. Remi went still at the mention of the secretive and powerful vampire collective. Moving closer to where he stood, she rolled her eyes. “Of course, I was joking. Should Magno Zara or his wolfie Jana Noskova appear on my doorstep, I don’t know what I would do. Probably be frozen in terror. But my warning did the trick… at least for a few minutes! Follow me, and I’ll introduce you to tonight’s players.”

“Hold these for a second,” Remi said, handing the deck to her, as he shrugged off his jacket.

Stepping to the mirror by the entrance, Remi nodded with a question in his eyes to Henri, who was waiting with a towel.

“You’re just going to add to the mess already there. Go ahead, monsieur.”

Remi plunged his fingers into his slightly curled tresses, attempting to look presentable for the guests. Reaching out, he took the cloth from the servant and patted his head, drying it as much as he could.

“Thank you.”

He tossed the towel back to the man who’d been employed by his sister-in-law for the past 30 years. After straightening his cuffs, he extended his hand, and the comfort of the cards was with him yet again. As they went down the hall, Remi glanced back at Henri, who was dabbing the carpet with a focused intent to perform his job well.

“I never asked you, Paulette.”

“Hmm?”

“Henri… does he know about us?”

“Yes.” She looked over her shoulder and set her eyes alight. “But he’s been compelled not to divulge our tiny secret to anyone. All the house staff has. Although it’s known that vampires reside in the area, I don’t want to broadcast our inclusion as supernaturals.”

The voices ahead were getting louder, and Paulette hurried her steps.

They reached the hardwood double doors, and she opened them with a flourish. All eyes fell on her and then on Remi, who’d set his face to a disinterested mien. Taking a card from his deck, he flipped it end over end, as he glanced at the men at the table and then allowed his eyes to roam over the females grouped at the side.

“Gentlemen!” She strode into the room, beckoning Remi with her hand to follow her. “Allow me to introduce Luc’s brother Remi.”

“What about the women? Don’t I get to meet them as well?”

Remi made his way to the couch, where several were seated, and gave them a bow. Chairs scraped the floor behind him, as their men stood.

As he righted himself, he said, “Enchanté, ladies. I apologize for my tardiness and appearance. I wasn’t aware such beauty awaited my arrival, and unfortunately, I was caught in the downpour.”

The women looked at each other wide-eyed, inhaling deep breaths, and then returned their attention to him.

One had the presence of mind to speak, though her voice came out a tad shaky.

“What does that mean... what you said?”

He dropped his tenor an octave. “Enchanted, chér.”

“Oh, my,” another remarked.

“I’m French, as you’ve surely noticed, and I sometimes fall into my native tongue.”

“Why don’t you ever call me sha, Brad?” said the one who spoke earlier. Then to Remi, “That means dear, right?”

Remi nodded, not mentioning that it was a Creole word he had picked up over the years, living in Louisiana. He looked her over from her blonde tresses, which fell in large soft curls reaching her shoulders, to her cleavage, where his gaze lingered. His focus dropped to her tapered waist and then lower, until he saw the glittery paint on her toenails, peeking out of the straps of her high-heeled shoes.

“And you are?”

“Michelle.”

“Très belle, Michelle. Beautiful.”

“Talk to us a little bit more! I just love listening to you!” the one at the end of the couch exclaimed.

“Hey! Are you here to play cards, or flirt all night?” a guy behind him shouted.

Ignoring the irritated comment, Remi took Michelle’s hand in his and placed a kiss on the back of it, knowing his old-world charm was working on her and the other women as he’d intended. He could smell it rising in the air. To his delight, it was also annoying the hell out of the men.

“You’ll have to excuse me. As you’ve heard, the table is ready for me.”

“I am too, Remi.”

“What’d you say to him, Michelle?”

She breathed out an annoyed sigh and said, “Nothing, Brad.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, listen here… what was his name?” Brad asked.

Another man replied, “Remi.”

“Yeah, you, Rani, or whoever you are. Either sit down, or leave.”

Luc said, “You did hear that’s my brother you’re talking to.”

“And that’s my wife he’s making moves on.”

Remi stared into Michelle’s eyes, as he replied, “If she’s truly yours, then you have nothing to be worried about from my flirtation with your stunning wife. You might be concerned about her responses, though.”

“Michelle! Stop talking to him! Not another word! Sit there and be quiet!”

“Or you’ll do what, Brad? Spank her? Really teach her a lesson by showing her who she belongs to?” Remi asked, letting his gaze roam over her once more. Her breathing increased, and her chest flushed red. Her lips spread, as her tongue darted out, travelling over them. “I think she’d enjoy receiving that particular session from me instead… tying her to my bed, having my way with her.”

“Oh, my God!” the woman at the end of the couch said. “Take me instead! My husband couldn’t care less.”

“You should find a better lover,” Remi responded, though his comment was directed to Michelle.

“Get the fuck over here, so I can wipe the fucking table with you!” Brad shouted.

Turning around, Remi held up his hands and closed his eyes for a second, before popping them back open, his gaze one of steel.

“Let’s play.”

Taking a seat where he could view the women, especially Michelle, he folded himself into the wooden chair. After settling in, he looked over to the couch, and their gazes met and locked.

“Stop eye-fucking my wife, asshole.”

“Would you prefer I do it the old-fashioned way?’ Remi replied, letting his gaze darken, as he pictured her naked underneath him. “It’d be something she wouldn’t soon forget.”

“So would my foot up your ass.”

Remi chuckled, giving his attention to those at the table.

“So, what’s the game tonight, boys?”

Luc answered, “Texas Hold ’Em.”

Remi shook his head and said, “Non. I prefer Seven Card Stud.”

Banging his fist on the table, Brad shouted, “You can’t stroll in here and change everything!”

Remi spread his deck out in front of him on the green velvet in an arch. Lifting and tilting the cards at the end, he made the line flow left and right in a hypnotic rhythm. Glancing up, he saw that Michelle was staring at him.

After assessing the agitated state of the man opposite of him, he jerked his thumb towards the door and said, “Ante up or get the fuck out, Brad. Your choice. Unless you don’t know how to play.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

As he stared at the wave of hearts, clubs, diamonds, and spades, he murmured, “The best motherfucking card player you’ve ever met.” He flicked his eyes to Paulette, who was standing at his side. “Shuffle up and deal.” Then, to Michelle, he said, “Bring me a whiskey... neat.”

“That means no ice, right?” Michelle said, as she stood and smoothed her mini-skirt.

She then made her way to the bar, teetering on her stilettos.

Smirking at Brad and staring him straight in the face, Remi said, “That’s right, chér.”

Later, only he and Brad remained at the table.

“You don’t have any money left, Brad. So, now what?” He glanced to the side and gave Michelle another onceover. Leaning forward on the table, he added, “How about we play for your wife? I wanna give her the night I described earlier.”

“Oh, my God!” she gasped.

“That okay with you?” Remi asked, and she nodded.

“Goddamn it, Michelle!” Brad shouted. “He’s already taken everything I own, and now you’re turning on me, too?”

“If you wanna play me to try to redeem yourself, that’s the wager.”