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It didn’t matter either way.
What mattered was that he had Giacomo’s financial demise within his grasp. How very fitting that he should be in the perfect place to celebrate once he’d hammered the last nail into the coffin.
His gaze flickered to the stunning woman in red who regarded him with a touch of wariness and a whole lot of undisguised interest.
The silky cognac-coloured hair begged to be messed with, as did that sinful, pouting mouth she insisted on mauling every time he won a hand.
But her body, Dio! Her dress was a little too tight, sure, but even the fact that it made her assets a little too in your face didn’t detract from the fact that she was a magnificent creature.
A magnificent creature he would possess tonight. She would be the cherry on his cake, one he would take the utmost pleasure in savouring before he devoured.
But first...
‘Do you yield?’ he asked silkily, already anticipating the response. In some ways they were so very similar. Which wasn’t surprising considering they were father and son.
Although a father and son who detested the very ground each other walked on put an interesting twist on their relationship.
‘Over my dead body.’ Giacomo snapped his fingers at the dealer and threw his last five-million-dollar platinum chip in the middle of the table.
Beside him, his hostess’s mouth dropped open. The sight of her pink tongue sent a spike of excitement through his groin.
Sì...he would celebrate well tonight. For a while there, he’d begun to suspect that beating Giacomo would be his only source of entertainment in Macau. Which was why he’d sought the old man out instead of leaving him to squirm a little longer. He’d wanted to be done and out of here as soon as possible.
The other deals he’d come to negotiate had taken the necessary leap forward and he’d believed there was nothing left.
But now...
His groin hardened as he watched her mouth slowly press shut and her eyes dart to his with the same anticipated excitement that flowed within him.
He let his interest show, let her see the promise of what was to come.
Heat flared up her delicate neck and flawless skin into a surprisingly innocent face that could’ve graced a priceless painting.
Dio, she was truly entrancing. And yet she was in a place like this, where the likelihood of being hit on, or more, was very real.
He gave a mental shrug. He’d stopped trying to reason why people took the actions they took well before he’d grown out of long socks.
Otherwise he’d have driven himself mad from trying to decipher why the father whose DNA flowed through his veins seemed to hate every single breath he took.
Or why Maria’s betrayal still had the power to burn an acid path in his gut—
No.
That train had long left the station. Giving it thinking room was a waste of time and his time was extremely precious.
Keeping his eyes on his hostess, he downed his drink and held out his empty glass.
‘I’m thirsty again, amante.’
With a nod, she sashayed away in her too-tight dress and returned minutes later with his drink.
When she started to move away, he snagged a hand around her waist. The touch of warm, silk-covered flesh beneath his fingers short-circuited his brain for a few moments. Then he realised she was trying to get away from him.
‘Stay. You bring me luck when you’re near.’
‘Shame you need a woman to win,’ Giacomo sneered.
Narciso ignored him and nodded to the dealer. He wanted this game to be over so he could pull this magical being tighter into his arms, feel her melt against him, his prize for emerging triumphant.
Giacomo threw his chip defiantly into the fray. Narciso’s chest tightened with the anger that never quite went away. For as long as he remembered, his father had treated him like that chip—inconsequential, easily cast aside. Underneath all the anger and bitterness, a wound he’d thought healed cracked open.
Ignoring it, he calmly plucked his cards from the table.
‘Let’s up the stakes.’
Eyes that had once been similar to his own but had grown dimmer with age snapped at him. ‘You think you have something I want?’
‘I know I do. That tech company you lost to me last month? If I lose this hand, I’ll return it to you, along with all of this.’ He nodded to the pile of chips in front of him, easily totalling over thirty million dollars.
‘And if I lose?’ His voice held a false confidence Narciso almost smiled at. Almost.
‘You hand over the other five-million chip I know is in your pocket and I’ll let you keep your latest Silicon Valley start up.’
Giacomo sneered but Narciso could see him weighing up the odds. Thirty million against ten.
He waited, let the seductive scent of his hostess’s perfume wash over him. Unable to resist, he slid his hand lower. The faintest sensation of a thong made his groin tighten. Again, she tried to move away. He pulled her back towards him and heard her breath catch.
‘My offer expires in ten seconds,’ he pressed.
Giacomo reached into his tuxedo pocket and tossed the second chip onto the table. Then he laid out cards in a flourish.
Four of a kind.
Narciso didn’t need to glance down at his own cards to know he’d won.
And yet...the triumph he should’ve experienced was oddly missing. Instead, hollowness throbbed dully in his chest.
‘Come on, then, you coward. It’s your turn to answer this—do you yield?’
Narciso breathed in deep and fought the tight vice crushing his chest. Slowly, the hollowness receded and anger rushed into its place. ‘Yes, I yield.’
His father’s bark of victorious laughter drew attention from other tables but Narciso didn’t care.
His hand was tightening over her waist, anticipation of a different sort firing his body. He was about to turn towards her when Giacomo reached for the cards Narciso had discarded.
A straight flush. A winning hand more powerful than his father’s.
The evidence that he’d been toyed with registered in Giacomo’s shocked eyes. ‘Il diavolo!’ He lunged across the table, his whole body vibrating with fury.
Narciso stood, his eyes devoid of expression. ‘Sì, I am the devil you spawned. You’ll do well to remember that next time we meet.’
CHAPTER THREE
I AM THE devil you spawned.
Had he meant that literally?
Ruby glanced at the man who had her imprisoned against his side as he steered her towards...
‘Where are you taking me?’ she demanded in a rush as electrifying fingers pressed more firmly into her skin. Who knew silk was an excellent conductor of heat?
She burned from head to toe and he wasn’t even touching her bare skin.
‘First to the dance floor. And then...who knows?’
‘But my duties...behind the bar—’
‘Are over,’ he stated imperiously.
Despite the alien emotions swirling through her, she frowned. ‘Can you do that?’
‘You’ll find that I can pretty much do anything I want.’
‘You deliberately lost thirty million dollars two minutes ago. I think doing what you want is pretty obvious. What I’m asking is, am I risking my job by deserting my post?’
He ushered her into the lift, took hold of her wrist and held the smartwatch against the panel. When it lit up, he pressed the key for the floor below. ‘You’re here to serve the members of this club. I require your services on the dance floor. There, does that ease your anxiety?’ He asked the question with a thread of cynicism that made her glance closely at him.
The tic throbbing at his temple and tense shoulders indicated that he hadn’t shrugged off his encounter at the poker table.
‘Who was that man you were playing with?’ she asked.
Silver eyes hardened a touch before they cleared and he smiled. Ruby forced herself not to gulp at the pulse-destroying transformation his smile achieved.
‘No one important. But you—’ he faced her fully as the lift stopped and the doors glided open ‘—are much more fascinating.’
One hand brushed her wrist and slid up her arm. The shiver when he’d first touched her returned a hundredfold, sending soul-deep tremors through her.
What on earth was going on? She’d believed herself in love with Simon, enough to come within a whisper of making a fool of herself, and yet he’d not triggered an iota of what she was feeling now.
Chemistry.
The word fired alarm bells so loud in her head she jerked backwards. Her back hit the lift wall and panic flared high as he stepped closer. Heat waves bounced off his hard-packed, unapologetically male body straight into hers.
‘I’m not fascinating. Not in the least,’ she said hurriedly.
He laughed, a deep, husky sound that sent warning tingling all over her body.
Was this how helpless prey felt within the clutches of a merciless predator? She was nobody’s prey; nonetheless she couldn’t deny this man’s seriously overwhelming presence.
‘You’re refreshingly naïve, too.’ His gaze probed, then his smile slowly faded. Although the hunger didn’t. ‘Unless that’s the ploy?’ he queried in the same silky tone he’d used at the poker table.
Ruby’s breath caught as the unmistakable sense of danger washed over her again. ‘There’s no ploy. And I’m not naïve.’
His fingers had reached her shoulder. They skated along her collarbone, perilously close to the pulse jumping at her throat.
The doors started to slide shut. His fingers stopped just shy of touching her pulse, then returned to grasp her wrist. With a tap on the smartwatch the doors parted again.
‘Come and dance with me. You can tell me how un-naïve and un-fascinating you are.’
He led her to the middle of a dance floor much larger than the one upstairs. Over a dozen guests graced the large space, moving to the beat of the sultry blend of Far Eastern music and western jazz.
They could’ve danced apart. In fact Ruby was counting on the brief reprieve from close contact. But he had other ideas.
He caught her close, one arm around her waist and the other catching her hand and imprisoning it against his chest as he began to sway. The fluidity with which he moved, his innate sensuality, told her that this man knew a lot about sex and sexuality. Would know how to take a woman and leave her utterly replete but desperate for more.
‘I’m waiting for you to enlighten me.’
For a second she couldn’t get her brain to work. Sensations she’d never felt before crashed through her as his hard thighs brushed hers.
‘About what?’
‘About why you think you’re not fascinating. Those impure thoughts running through your head we’ll leave for later.’
She sucked in a shocked breath. ‘How...? I wasn’t...’
‘You blush when you’re flustered. As endearing as that is, you’d make a lousy poker player.’
‘I don’t gamble. And I don’t know why I’m having this conversation with you.’
‘We’re performing the requisite mating dance before we...mate.’
She stopped dead. ‘In your dreams! I’m not here to be your, or anyone’s, appetiser.’
‘Don’t sell yourself short, sweetheart. I’d place you more as a deliciously forbidden dessert than an appetiser. But one I intend to devour nonetheless.’
She was on a dance floor thousands of miles away from home, immersed in a debate about which food course she was.
Surreal didn’t even begin to cover the emotions coursing through her as she glanced up at him and encountered that blatantly masculine square jaw and those hypnotic eyes.
‘Look, Mr...?’
He raised a brow. ‘You’re at a masked event, shrouded in secrecy, embroiled in intrigue and mystery, and you want to know my name?’ he asked cynically.
Damn, how could she have forgotten? ‘Why do I get the feeling that all this bores you rigid?’
His eyes gleamed. ‘How very intuitive of you. You’re right—it does. Or it did, until I saw you.’
Her heart gave a little kick. One she determinedly ignored. ‘You were fully engaged when you played your game. And that had nothing to do with me.’
