Gisele was used to big money being won and lost. It didn’t faze her, as the players knew the risk. That was why they paid to get in the high-stakes games, and why they kept coming back. But she hadn’t expected to see Micah at the table.
He’d been a distraction. With his coat off and his sleeves rolled up, she couldn’t help notice the strength of his forearms. Without being obvious, Gisele’s gaze kept drifting to his wide shoulders, and his buff chest outlined under his dress shirt. One button was undone, revealing bare skin that she wanted to touch, and the silver studs in his ears were sexy.
With the other players at the table, it had been easier to blend in and stay unobtrusive. With more to focus on, Micah hadn’t been able to watch her the entire time. But Gisele watched him…a lot. The man was a hunk, and handsome as hell. His dark, spiky hair was lightly gelled, just enough to be classy. Her hands twitched to dig her fingertips into his scalp, even draw blood, to release the tension that built inside her.
So Micah Rinaldi was in Vegas, and had managed to get into the high-stakes game. Just as Gisele already knew, the man was a risk taker. If there was such a game available, he was the type to find it. She’d watched him play, and he was good.
A good player had unreadable body language and unbreakable confidence. Micah had both. Whether he had a winning or losing hand was unknown until the cards were turned over. Even when another player scooped the chips, Micah showed no reaction.
It was marvelous to watch, and Gisele had seen her share of games. She’d expected him to leave with the others, to walk out as she’d done in Hollywood. When he didn’t, it made her nervous. Surely he didn’t intend to play against Danilov.
Several times, Micah’s eyes locked with hers, but Gisele looked away. She was trained not to be a distraction, and dared not reveal that she knew him. Encouraging him couldn’t lead to anything good, so she kept her cool as best she could.
If only he’d abandoned the game with the others, Gisele could have put aside the knowledge that she’d been with Micah before. It had been only for dancing, but had left an impression on her. The fact that the sight of him rattled her was infuriating.
But just as the players wore their stone faces, she did too. But Gisele knew she couldn’t hide her feelings entirely. When Micah looked at her with those brown eyes it unnerved her, and she was certain it showed. Despite her best effort to be aloof, she knew Micah read the truth.
And what was the truth? Gisele wasn’t sure she knew. The hunky fighter affected her, in a way that she wished he didn’t. But she couldn’t turn her feelings on and off, as much as she’d like to. Yet she maintained enough composure to hide the electricity between them from the others.
Micah didn’t know he was playing a deadly game by challenging Danilov. This wasn’t a friendly game of poker with friends from the neighborhood. When each player stood to gain or lose so much, one false move could be cause for retribution. If Micah was thought to be cheating, then all bets were off. And Danilov would be watching closely; his ego was on the line.
Gisele knew that men played poker for many reasons, not exclusively for sport. There was that chance to win an obscene amount of money, and she’d seen men close to tearing each other apart for a chance at the pot. Losing wasn’t only about walking away poorer, it was about self-esteem suffering. And men with egos like Micah and Danilov didn’t find losing an acceptable outcome.
That was all the more reason that Micah should have taken his winnings while he had them and left. It was foolhardy to go against Danilov. He’d chosen an opponent whose ruthlessness matched his deft skill. Whatever the outcome, the game would be grueling.
Gisele hadn’t spoken since she’d entered the room, nor did she say anything when Micah voiced his challenge. She muffled her surprise, but widened her eyes in warning. Yet Micah paid no heed, willing to risk every dime he had for the chance to spend the evening with her. It was poor judgment on his part, considering how the first evening he’d spent with her had ended.
Clearly, Micah had decided to try his luck with her again, if he was given the opportunity. There still remained the issue of winning the game, of which there was no certainty.
When Danilov agreed, the dealer shuffled then dealt. Gisele took the seat next to Danilov. She didn’t want to stand behind him or see his cards. Butterflies fought in her stomach, and she preferred to wait things out, face the outcome when it was known.
Micah played with iron focus, and was unreadable. And Danilov maintained a lofty expression, one meant to intimidate. Gisele had seen it before, and that cold, impenetrable look usually drove a wedge into the opponent’s confidence. Yet she saw no change in Micah.
As the seconds ticked by, the shock from Micah’s challenge was replaced with annoyance that Gisele was a pawn in the game. How dare these men trade her back and forth like a prized possession? She belonged to no one, and resented being treated as if she did.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she was. Betting one’s fortune was each man’s option, but neither had the right to offer her for the evening. She might damn well refuse to cooperate, and see how they liked that.
But she didn’t interrupt the game. That just wasn’t done.
The only sign of stress was the wetness on the underarms of Micah’s shirt. He was sweating, whether from the stillness of the room or the heat of the game, Gisele didn’t know. Yet she didn’t get up or offer to turn down the temperature. While watching the game, she hardly moved a muscle.
Not knowing what either player had been dealt made her crazy. Maybe it would have been better to look over Danilov’s shoulder, as she’d know if he had a good hand or not. She gently gnawed her lower lip, worrying. It would definitely be worse if she did see Danilov’s cards and knew that he had a strong hand. The anxiety over wondering what Micah had would be worse in that case.
Each player took fresh cards, and the dealer slid a card across the felt to each of them. The atmosphere was tense as each player peeled up the edge to see their card. This was it. Danilov looked across at Micah. He nodded and pointed to the cards. “What do you have, my friend?”
The only thing that Danilov stood to lose was one evening of Gisele’s time, something he’d hardly notice. On the other hand, he might win a significant sum, considering how much Micah had won so far. He looked directly at his opponent.
Micah looked back, unmoving. If he was aware of Gisele, he showed no sign of it. His full attention was on Danilov as he flipped over his cards. All eyes were on the row of diamonds—a flush.
Without flinching, Danilov turned his cards over, one at a time. He had three of a kind, three aces, not good enough to win. Gisele expelled the breath she’d been holding and sagged against the chair. Relief flooded her: Micah hadn’t lost it all. Although it would have served him right if he had.
Danilov pushed back his chair and stood up. He looked down at Gisele without acknowledging Micah’s win. “You can have the west wing,” he said to her.
Gisele gave him a scathing look, still miffed that he’d bargained with her. It was downright insulting.
Micah stood up, his impressive build getting her attention. “What do you mean by west wing? The deal was that I have the evening with Gisele.”
Danilov glared at him. “I’m sticking to the deal. You have the evening with her.” A glint of satisfaction flickered across his expression. “I didn’t say that you could leave the premises. There’s no way I’m letting a stranger walk out of here with Gisele.”
Gisele put her hand on his shoulder. “Alek?”
“No, that’s the end of it, Gisele. I’ve spoken.” And he left the room without another word to either of them.
Micah’s jaw clenched and his hands formed into fists.
“If you’re considering fighting him, I wouldn’t,” Gisele said. “It’s a bad idea, even worse than the idea of going one on one in poker with him.”
The dealer stood back from the fray, and the guard who’d seemed to blend in with the walls now stepped forward. “I’ll escort you,” he said.
Micah rolled his shoulders, as if trying to loosen up. “Okay, which way?” he said, and the guard motioned toward the front entrance of the gaming room.
The guard led them out the door and down the hall to the elevator. Gisele could have found her way to the west wing, but the guard was a show of strength, letting Micah know who was in control. The message was clear. The evening with her was the prize, but she was well guarded, which was Micah’s warning to behave.
What Micah didn’t know was that the circumstances irked her as much as they did him. She felt trapped, overprotected, suffocated. Yet there was little she could do. There wasn’t a chance that she’d walk out of the complex with a player. It wasn’t safe, as she’d been told numerous times.
The west wing was the guest quarters, complete with dining room, spa, and in-house theater. However Micah wished to spend the time with her, it could surely be done there. When the guard opened the door to the main gathering room, Gisele nodded at him. “I’ll be fine from here.”
The guards patrolled the property at all hours, and could be buzzed in an emergency. But with the door shut, Gisele escaped their watchful eyes. There were hidden surveillance cameras in the room, but she saw no reason to make Micah aware of that.
Micah walked into the room as if he owned the place. Given the circumstances, his command of the situation was remarkable. He looked around at the spacious room. An enormous window faced out onto Vegas, lights gleaming against the sky.
The travertine floors and plush furniture were done in dark brown, tan, and cream. There were sculptures of chess pieces, as tall as Gisele, strategically placed around the room as art. There were miniature palm trees, candles on thick bases, and paintings in ornate frames on the walls. Micah headed toward the bar along one wall.
Gisele watched him, admiring his round ass and his strong legs. He’d left his blazer behind, not that he needed it. She eyed his broad shoulders that veed to a narrow waist, and her mouth went dry.
Yet her arousal was mixed with annoyance. Who did Micah think he was, joining a private game, and having the gall to force her to spend another evening with him? There were no manners left among men; a woman was no more than chattel to be traded as they saw fit. She sat on one of the sofas and crossed her legs.
Micah turned and studied her for a moment. “Would you like something to drink?” he said, his tone implying something more than he said.
“Yes, I’ll have a bourbon on the rocks,” Gisele said. “Help yourself to whatever you like.”
A narrow smile crossed Micah’s lips. “I’ll have the same.” He went around the bar and pulled the bottle from the shelf, and opened the cupboard for glasses.
With two drinks in hand, Micah came over to sit down. He handed over the drink, and took the chair across from her. Gisele watched him take a gulp of his drink, then did the same. “What are you doing here?” she said.
After another gulp, Micah said, “That’s what I was going to ask you. What are you doing here?”
“I work here.”
Micah’s eyes narrowed. “Doing what?”
“Well, if you must know, I watch for cheaters.”
Micah held his drink in midair. “The dealer can’t do that?”
“Of course he can,” Gisele said, “but as you know, these games are played for a lot of money. With so much at risk, cheating is too much of a temptation. The dealer can’t be expected to see everything.”
Micah stared at her, so she continued, “And the players relax around a woman. I’m a bit of a distraction, and that’s intentional. The players let their guard down with me around, making it easier for me to do my job.”
“Well, then you’d know I didn’t cheat.”
“No, you didn’t, which was the smart thing. Cheating isn’t tolerated well.”
“Sounds like you have a lot of experience with it,” Micah said.
“Enough.” Gisele took a sip of her drink, then balanced it on her knee. Micah’s eyes followed and he took the liberty of gazing at her legs. “Our dealer is professional, and he is the only one permitted to touch the deck.”
“So there’s no sleight of hand with the cards, bottom dealing, or palming cards?”
“No, but there are more subtle ways to cheat,” Gisele said, “Such as folding out of turn, by making a motion as if you’re going to do so, then reclaiming it when the action truly gets to them. Or betting out of turn…making a motion as if intending to bet, so the players to the right see, and change their behavior based on that signal.”
“Then when the action reaches him, he pulls his bet back,” Micah said.
Gisele saw the gleam in his eye. “Yeah, so you know all of this. Still, you’d be surprised how many try to get away with it.” She jiggled her glass and the ice cubes rattled against the sides.
“I doubt collusion happens often,” Micah said. “With the way the players are screened for the games here, it wouldn’t be easy for two of them to team up and signal each other.”
“Not often, but it’s been tried.” Gisele had relaxed a little, talking about the game and taking the focus away from the intimate encounter.
Micah looked at her, making her feel as though he could read her thoughts. It was difficult to maintain her composure. Then she remembered how angry she was. “I can’t believe you challenged like you did. You risked too much.”
“I don’t agree. It was worth it.” Micah leaned back in the chair. “I have you for the evening.” He studied her for a moment. “Does that worry you?”
He’d probably picked up on Gisele’s anxiousness and misread it. “You won the poker game against Alek. But I’m not the least bit worried.” She paused. “If you hurt me…he will kill you.”
Micah gave her a challenging look, as if he’d welcome the opportunity to fight. That was no surprise. “He certainly didn’t hesitate to agree for you to be the prize.”
Gisele put her empty glass on the table. Being reminded of her circumstances grated on her nerves. “He just wanted to win at poker—the higher the stakes the better. I’d say you have a lot in common.”
Micah smiled.
“Besides which,” Gisele said, “you’re in a guarded compound, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
“Yes, I can understand having security at the game, but this is a bit much. What are they afraid is going to happen?”
“With so much money changing hands, you never know.” That was as much as Gisele was willing to tell him. “And if you’re trying to impress me, you’re going about it the wrong way.”
“What do you mean?”
“The first time we met, you carted me off like some barbarian.” She tensed. “And now we’re here because you won me as a prize. Don’t I have a say about whether I want to spend time with you?”
Micah smiled. “Give me your phone number, and next time I’ll call you for a real date.”
“I’ll take another drink,” Giselle said, lifting her empty glass and ignoring his request.
Micah got up and turned on some jazz on his way back to the bar. He refilled their glasses and returned, this time to sit on the sofa beside her. Her heart skipped a beat.
It occurred to her that after how the last evening they’d spent together had ended that Micah was really taking a chance on her. Or maybe this whole thing was a ruse, and he intended to throw it all in her face. Gisele wasn’t sure she wanted to find out the punch line to this story. “You don’t have to stay, you know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just because you won the game, doesn’t mean you have to spend the evening with me.” Gisele had thought he was as attracted to her as she was to him, but now she wasn’t sure. “After all, winning is what it’s all about, right?”
“I’m staying,” Micah said. His male scent made her lightheaded, and she had to resist the urge to reach underneath his crisp shirt to feel his hard muscles.
Micah leaned a bit too close. “I told you, I take what I want…and I want you.”
Gisele could think of no witty reply.
“There is one thing I wonder about, though.”
Here it comes, she thought. Micah was going to let her know just what he thought of her behavior the last time they met. Gisele braced herself. “What’s that?”
“I don’t get it. Danilov owns this place, and it seems you live here too,” Micah said. “Yet he gave you up so easily. If you were mine…I wouldn’t do that.”
Gisele couldn’t breathe.
“So explain it to me,” Micah said. “What’s your connection with the Russian?”
That was a complicated situation, one that Gisele didn’t intend to talk about to a man she barely knew. But Micah wasn’t asking for her life’s story. He was just trying to figure out why she was here, so she’d tell him the short version.