V Card

Prologue

PROLOGUE

“ Y our call, sweetheart.” I grinned. Watching as a pair of honey-colored eyes peered up at me, then immediately dropped back down to the hand she was clutching a little too tight between a set of manicured fingertips. This particular kitten had pretty pink claws that were two-sizes too big for her.

I shook my head. And if she wasn’t careful, I was gonna have to demand a new deck. No way in hell was I about to chance someone marking a perfectly good stack of cards. Didn’t matter if that shit was intentional or an honest mistake. She hadn’t been on this earth long enough to know what was good for her, and I’d been on it too long to let a little girl get the slip on me.

I might not have known her, might not have ever seen her before tonight, but I sure as shit knew her type. I’d clocked her the moment she started rounding the room before deciding I was the chump she was gonna try to distract with one palm on his thigh and another creeping into his wallet. She was used to a bunch of limp dicks letting her win—or at the very least, she was used to throwing them off their game. Because hers was shit.

It wouldn’t take more than a few rounds for the kid to realize she’d chosen poorly. I wasn’t her meal ticket. I wasn’t easily distracted either. I might have allowed myself a peek at her tits, but it was the rest of her I was more interested in. It was the rest of her that told me everything I needed to know.

All I had to do was read her facial expressions. Study her mannerisms. Listen for the little sounds she made after each hand was dealt. That’s what happened when you were young and your poker face was nonexistent. You were an open book for fuckers like me, the kind of guy who knew better than to drink when he was working a table.

A slurping sound had my glare sweeping over the fruity cocktail the kitten was nursing through one of those straws with the loops in it. Her third since slinking her way into that seat with the confidence of a betta fish that had never seen outside its bowl. And I had to keep from rolling my eyes. Another novice move. You didn’t need your senses dulled by alcohol. You needed them sharpened by years of practice.

Unlike the crowds that flocked to the money pits, lured by all that glitter and gold, I had no problem tuning it out. The other players and the environment built brick by brick to distract you. My sole focus glued to the cards in my hand and the chips in front of me. The noise melted away. The lights didn’t matter. Even the smoke seemed to clear until all I could think about was the offer that hung between us. Her virginity in exchange for another stack of chips. Unless she happened to be staring at an ace of diamonds.

The sudden droop of those plump, overly-painted lips told me she wasn’t, though. Not that it seemed to affect her willingness to bluff. The girl didn’t say a word as she tossed her remaining chips into the pot. All-in.

It was a bold move for someone whose feet barely touched the floor without the help of those ridiculous heels. She probably thought the shoes and makeup made her look older. They didn’t. They made her look like she was trying too hard. A bright-red target for those of us circling the casino room floors as soon as we tasted fresh blood in the water.

I lifted a challenging brow, calling her bluff before the poor kid even realized her mistake as I flipped my hand over on the table. A pair of queens to her jack and king.

Her jaw dropped, her mouth opening and closing a few times like one of those little molly fish with the big bug eyes. She was just as colorful too, in that emerald green evening gown that left little to the imagination when it came to what was underneath it.

I could see the wheels turning in her head, and quickly cut off whatever argument she was planning with a tsk of my tongue before gesturing for security to come and collect my winnings. Which tonight included the girl in front of me and whatever she was hiding between those thighs I could see her clenching from all the way over here.