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“Why would I do that?”
Vladimir indicated his own entire pile of chips. “For this.”
The blood rushed from her head, making her dizzy. “All of that?” she gasped.
He gave her a single nod.
Greg Hudson made a noise like a squeak. Sweat was showing through his tropical cotton shirt as he, along with everyone in the room, stared at the pile of chips. “But Prince Vladimir—Your Highness—that’s a million dollars,” he stammered.
“So it is,” he replied mildly, as if the amount were nothing at all—and to Vladimir, it probably wasn’t.
A single bead of sweat broke out between Bree’s breasts. “And what would you want from me?”
His blue eyes seared right through her. “If I win,” he said quietly, “you would be mine. For as long as I want you.”
As long as he wanted her? “That would make me your … your slave.”
Vladimir gave her a cold smile. “It is a wager I offer. You. For a million dollars.”
“But that’s—”
“Make your choice. Play me or go.”
She swallowed, hearing a roar of blood in her ears.
“You can’t just buy her!” her ex-boss brayed.
“That’s up to Miss Dalton,” Vladimir said. He turned his laserlike gaze on Bree. “So?”
Though there were ten other people in the room, it was so quiet she could have heard a pin drop. All eyes were on her.
A million dollars. The choice she made in this moment would determine the rest of her life—and Josie’s. They could pay off their father’s old debts to unsavory men, the ones that had kept them in virtual hiding for the past ten years. Josie would be free to go to college—any college she wanted. And Bree could start her own little B and B by the sea.
They’d no longer have to hide or be afraid.
They’d be free.
“What is the game?” she said weakly. “Poker?”
“Let’s keep it easy. Leave it to fate. One card.”
Her eyes widened. “One …”
His gorgeous face and chilly blue eyes revealed nothing as his sensual lips curved. “Are you feeling lucky, Miss Dalton?”
Was she feeling lucky?
Taking a million dollars from Vladimir would be more than sweet revenge. It would be justice for how he’d coldly abandoned her when she’d needed him most. He’d destroyed ten years of her life. She could take this one thing from him. A new life for her and Josie.
But risk being Vladimir’s slave—forever? The thought made her body turn to ice. It was too much to risk on a random card from the deck.
Unless … it wasn’t so random.
She looked sideways beneath her lashes at Chris, the dealer. He lowered his head, his expression serious. Was that a nod? Did she have a sympathetic ally? She closed her eyes.
How much was she willing to risk on a single card?
Are you feeling lucky, Miss Dalton?
Bree exhaled. She’d just won a hundred thousand dollars in a single game. She slowly opened her eyes. So, yes, she felt lucky. She sat back down at the table.
“I accept your terms,” she stated emphatically.
Vladimir’s smile widened. “So to be clear. If my card is higher, you’ll belong to me, obeying my every whim, for as long as I desire.”
“Yes,” she said, glancing again at Chris. “And if mine is higher, you will give me every chip on that table.”
“Agreed.” Vladimir lifted a dark eyebrow. “Ace card high?”
“Yes.”
They stared at each other, and Bree again forgot there was anyone else in the room. Until someone coughed behind her, and she jumped, realizing she’d been holding her breath.
Vladimir turned to the dealer. “Shuffle the deck.”
Bree put the chips she’d won in the last game into a little pile and pushed them aside. “I will select my own card.”
Her opponent looked amused. “I would expect no less.”
They both turned to Chris, who visibly gulped. Shuffling carefully, with all eyes upon him, he fanned out the facedown cards. He turned them toward Bree, who made her selection, then toward Vladimir, who did the same.
Holding her breath, Bree slowly turned her card over.
The king of hearts.
She’d drawn the king of hearts! She’d won!
She gasped aloud, no longer able to control her emotions. Flipping her card onto the table to reveal the suit, she covered her face with her palms and sobbed with joy. After ten years, fate had brought the untouchable Vladimir Xendzov into her hands, to give her justice at last. Parting her hands, she lifted her gaze, waiting for the sweetness of the moment when he turned over his own losing card, and his face fell as he realized he’d lost and she’d won.
Vladimir looked down at his card. For an instant, his hard expression didn’t change.
Then he looked up at her and smiled. A real smile that reached his eyes.
It was an ice pick through her heart.
“Sorry, Bree,” he said casually, and tossed his card onto the table.
She stared down at the ace of diamonds.
Her mind went blank. Then a tremble went through her, starting at her toes and moving up her body as she looked at Vladimir, her eyes wide and uncomprehending. She dimly heard Greg Hudson’s annoyed curse and the other men’s cheers, heard the women’s snide laughter—except for the woman directly behind Vladimir, who seemed to be crying.
“You—you’ve …” Bree couldn’t speak the words.
“I’ve won.” Vladimir looked at her, his blue eyes electric with dislike. He rose from his chair, all six feet four inches of him, and said coldly, “You have ten minutes to pack. I will collect my winnings in the lobby.” As she gaped at him, he walked around the table to stand over her, so close she could feel the warmth of his body. He leaned nearer, his face inches from hers.
“I’ve waited a long time for this,” he said softly. “But now, at last, Bree Dalton—” his lips slid into a hard, sensual smile “—you are mine.”
CHAPTER TWO
BREE’S heart stopped in her chest.
As Vladimir turned away, she struggled to wake up from this bad dream. She looked down at her overturned card on the table. The king of hearts looked back at her. Bree should have won. She was supposed to win. Her brain whirled in confusion.
“Wake up,” she whispered to herself. But it wasn’t a dream.
She’d just sold herself. Forever. To the only man she hated.
Blinking, she looked up tearfully at the young dealer, who she’d thought was her ally. Chris just shook his head. “Wow,” he said in awe. “That was a really stupid bet.”
Bree gripped the edge of the table with trembling hands. Staggering to her feet, she turned on Vladimir savagely. “You cheated!”
From the doorway, he whirled back to face her. “Cheated?”
He went straight toward her, and the crowds parted for him, falling back from his powerful presence and his expression of fury. He looked as cold as a marble statue, like an ancient tsar of perfect masculine beauty, of despotic strength and ruthless cruelty. He reached for her, and she backed away, terrified of the look in his eyes.
Vladimir dropped his hands. His posture relaxed and his voice became a sardonic drawl. “You are the one who cheats, my dear. And you’d best hurry.” He glanced at his platinum watch. “You now only have—nine minutes to pack before I collect my prize.”
She gasped aloud. His prize?
Her body—her soul!
Turning without another word, Vladimir stalked out the door with a warrior’s easy, deadly grace. Everyone in the room, Bree included, remained silent until the door closed behind him. Then the crowd around her burst into noise, and Bree’s knees went weak. She leaned her trembling hands against the table. Her ex-boss was yelling something in her ear: “Nine minutes is too long. I want you out of the Hale Ka’nani in five!”
Greg Hudson looked as if he were dying to slap her across the face. But she knew he couldn’t touch her. Not now. Not ever.
She was Vladimir Xendzov’s property now.
How could she have been so stupid? How?
Bree had never hated herself so much as she did in that moment. She rubbed her eyes, hard. She’d thought she could save her hapless baby sister from the perils of gambling. Instead, she’d proved herself more stupidly naive than Josie had ever been.
The warm, close air in the red-curtained, windowless room suddenly choked her. Pushing past the annoyed blonde who’d stood behind Vladimir’s chair, Bree ran for the exit, past a startled Kai who was guarding the door. She rushed down the hall, past the deserted outdoor bar, into the dark night.
She ran up the hill, trying to focus on the feel of the path beneath her feet, on the hard rhythm of her breathing. But she was counting down her freedom in minutes. Eight. Seven and a half. Seven.
Her right foot stumbled and she slowed to a walk, her breath a rasp in her throat. The moon glowed above her as she reached the apartment building she shared with her sister.
Bree shivered as a warm breeze blew against her clammy skin. Rushing up the open-air stairs of the aged, moss-covered structure, she shook with fear. He would take everything from her. Everything.
She’d been stupid. So stupid. He’d set his trap and she’d walked right into it. And now Josie would be left alone, with no one to watch out for her.
Bree started to reach for the doorknob, then stopped. Her body shook as she remembered the poker chips she’d been so proud to win—all of which she’d left behind. With a choked sob, she covered her face with her hands. How would she ever explain this disaster to Josie?
The door abruptly opened.
“There you are,” Josie said. “I saw you come up the path. Did you manage to …?” But her sister’s hopeful voice choked off when she saw Bree’s face. “Oh,” she whispered. “You … you lost?”
Josie spoke the words as if they were impossible. As if she’d never once thought such a thing could happen. Bree had never lost big like this before—ever. Even tonight, she would have won, if she hadn’t allowed Vladimir to tempt her into one last game. Her hands clenched at her sides. She didn’t know who she hated more at this moment—him or herself.
Him. Definitely him.
“What happened?” Josie breathed.
“The stranger was Vladimir,” Bree said through dry lips. “The man who kicked you out of the game was Vladimir Xendzov.”
Josie stared at her blankly. But of course—she’d been only twelve when their father had died, and Bree had set her sights on the twenty-five-year-old businessman with a small mining company, who’d returned to Alaska to try to buy back his family’s land. She’d hoped to con him out of enough cash to pay off the dangerous men who’d tracked them down and were demanding repayment of the money Black Jack and Bree had once stolen.
She’d fallen for Vladimir instead. And Christmas night, when he’d proposed to her, she’d decided to tell him everything. But his brother told him first—and by then, it was in the newspapers. Without a word, he’d abruptly left Alaska, leaving eighteen-year-old Bree and her sister threatened by dangerous men—as well as the sheriff, who’d wanted to toss Bree into jail and Josie into foster care. So they’d thrown everything into their beat-up old car in the middle of the night, and headed south. For the past ten years, they’d never stopped running.
“You lost? At poker?” Josie repeated, dazed. Her eyes suddenly welled up with tears. “This is all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault,” Bree said tightly.
“Of course it is!”
Josie was clearly miserable. Looking at her little sister’s tearful face, Bree came to a sudden decision. She grabbed her duffel bag.
“Pack,” she said tersely.
Josie didn’t move. Her expression was bewildered. “Where are we going?”
Bree stuffed her passport into her bag, and any clean clothes she could reach. “Airport. You have two minutes.”
“Oh, my God,” Josie breathed, staring at her. “You want to run. What on earth did you lose?”
“Move!” Bree barked.
Jumping, her sister turned and grabbed her knapsack. A scant hundred seconds later, Bree was pulling on her hand and yanking her toward the door.
“Hurry.” She flung open the door. “We’ll get our last paychecks and—”
Vladimir stood across the open-air hallway. His broad-shouldered, powerful body leaned casually against the wall in the shadows.
“Going somewhere?” he murmured silkily.
Bree stopped short, staring up in shock. Behind her, Josie ran into her back with a surprised yelp.
He lifted a dark eyebrow and gave Bree a cold smile. “I had a feeling you would attempt to cheat me. But I admit I’m disappointed. Some part of me had hoped you might have changed over the last ten years.”
