Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Did he have to kiss her in the elevator? Was it necessary for the mission? For their undercover and, unfortunately, fake relationship?

Nope. Not at all.

But he was a bastard who could take prime advantage of a situation, and she truly looked gorgeous, and so Logan leaned in for that kiss.

What a hell of a kiss it was, too. Intense, passionate. Hungry. Demanding.

The elevator dinged.

He savored her sweet mouth just a moment longer even as he heard the doors opening and…

“You own a hotel,” Freya announced in her crisp, British accent. “Yet, somehow, you seem to struggle to actually get a room. First, you make out at a gaming table. Now, in an elevator. Really, Logan, I expected you to be far more elevated with your seduction routine.”

He eased back from Charlotte. Her lips were wet, red from his mouth. Her eyes gleamed at him, and he knew the desire he saw in her golden gaze was real. Sure, the relationship might be fake, but the need that burned between them?

Real. Hot.

“Sorry,” he murmured. He wasn’t. “Can’t seem to keep my hands off her.” He turned toward Freya. “Of all people, I’m sure you know what that’s like. You’ve had plenty of husbands and partners over the years.”

A sniff. “I divorced my fifth husband last year. He’d become quite the bore.

I hate when people disappoint me.” She turned with a flourish that sent the wide edge of her skirt flaring.

“I didn’t expect a second party so soon, but when Ares sent me his invitation, curiosity compelled me to attend his little soiree. ”

Charlotte eased forward. Logan curled a hand around her waist and pulled her against his side as they exited the elevator. The elevator had opened directly into the penthouse. More guards waited. Ares always had his crew decked out in all black. So predictable.

The walls were a pale brown. No spots of color at all. A big contrast to Logan’s casino where he was all about bold reds. Everything here felt tame. Controlled.

Not Logan’s scene.

A turn to the right had their little group entering a dining room. A gleaming chandelier hung over the antique table. A table that appeared to be set up for a game of poker.

“Our final player has arrived,” Ares announced from his position at—surprise, surprise—the head of the table.

“You look like shit,” Logan told him by way of greeting. “What happened to your face? Did someone beat the hell out of you?” He pulled out an empty chair and motioned for Charlotte to take it. She sat down, all demure and adorable, and he smirked at Ares. “Oh, wait, I was that someone.”

“Damn, Logan.” Sebastian Shay whistled. “Just couldn’t let that one go, could you?”

“Nope.” Let it go? In no universe would he do that. “I’m still pissed, in fact.”

“Yet you’re here,” Carmichael pointed out.

His brown hair fell over his forehead, and his hands were flat on the table.

“Just like the rest of us. You know, we’re all really going to have to stop meeting this way.

There are other things to do in Vegas. Other people we can associate with.

Perhaps it’s time to broaden the field.” His stare swept to Charlotte.

“Oh, look, the lady who loves knives. Speaking of other things to do and broadening the field…”

“I am not in the mood,” Logan said flatly.

His hands closed around Charlotte’s shoulders as he stood behind her chair.

“The situation with Charlotte and I changed last night. Therefore, I shall lay out a new ground rule. Everyone ready? Paying close attention? Fabulous. Here we go…Fuck with her in any way, and I’ll destroy you. ” Logan waited a beat. “We clear?”

Silence at the table.

“Great,” Logan praised. His fingers squeezed her shoulders lightly. “Glad we all understand. I’d hate for confusion to arise and then for me to have to beat the hell out of someone.” Another deliberate pause. His gaze swung to Ares. “Again.”

Ares glared but didn’t speak.

“I guess this situational change is because she stayed in your suite? After that terrible attempt on your life? A little bird told me about the harrowing event and how your lovely companion saved you.” Pierre sipped from a martini glass.

“Inquiring minds want to know, what was she? Really? Not actually your PA, hmm? An undercover bodyguard, perhaps? That’s my guess.

Has to be, the way she pulled that knife, jumping to your defense so quickly.

” Pierre put down the glass and gave a mock shudder.

“But, back to that harrowing attack in the street. You must have been terrified with death breathing down your neck so heavily.”

“Terrified? Not really.” Logan let go of Charlotte and hauled a chair close to her.

“Annoyed? Yes. I hated for my run to be interrupted.” He sat down and let a wry grin curl his lips as he swept his gaze over Pierre.

“What is it with you and animals? First rabbits. Now birds. Any other animals talking to you that we should all know about?”

Freya chuckled as she took a seat across the table from Logan.

Pierre’s face flushed an angry red.

All the players seemed to be there except… “Where is the lovely hotel magnate’s daughter? Did Harper not warrant an invitation?” Logan’s fingers tapped lightly on the table. “By the way, I don’t quite understand the fancy dress requirement. Pretty unnecessary when it’s just us, don’t you think?”

“I like for things to be civilized,” Ares informed him. A woman with long, black hair waited behind him. Like the others in his employ, she was dressed completely in black.

“Civilized, huh? Could have fooled me based on your behavior last night.” Logan rolled his shoulders. “Why no Harper? Got the vibe that you were attempting to recreate last night’s game, yet we’re missing a player.”

“An invitation was delivered to her hotel,” Ares told him, voice dripping ice. “I guess the lovely Harper decided that she could not match the level of our play. Too rich for her blood.”

“Word buzzing around…” Freya inserted helpfully. “People are saying her family business is on the verge of going under. I think she might have been looking for some last-minute miracle by showing up at your game last night, Logan.”

Now Sebastian leaned forward. His dark brows lowered. “You’re not seriously saying she was trying to win enough money at Logan’s game in order to keep the hotel chain afloat?”

“No.” A quick shake of Freya’s head. “I don’t think she’s that naive.

But I believe she might have been looking to talk business with Logan after the game.

Logan or Ares. They both own hotels. Maybe she was looking for a merger or a buyout.

Or even basic business advice. But then…

” A delicate clearing of her throat. “Things got messy. Some people can’t handle messy.

” Her attention shifted to a silent Charlotte.

“Other people excel surprisingly well in messy situations.”

“Are we gonna have a game?” Sebastian demanded. He glanced at his watch. “Logan’s slow ass arrived late, and Ares wouldn’t let anyone do jack shit until he walked through the door. I have other places to go, and I don’t intend to let my tux be wasted on just you all.”

The woman near the right of Ares stepped forward.

“I invited you all here tonight because I wanted to offer you a fair game,” Ares announced.

“Oh, I do believe he’s implying that your game wasn’t fair,” Pierre hush-whispered to Logan. An overly loud hush-whisper.

“I got that, jackass,” Logan returned. “Thanks.”

Charlotte had stiffened in the chair next to him. Deliberately, he reached over and squeezed her hand.

“So, what happened?” Pierre asked with a flick of his fingers toward Charlotte as some of the red color fled from his face. “Did she save you and, in return, you decided to fuck your bodyguard? Because that’s what she actually was, oui? Not some personal assistant. Her job was to protect you.”

“Like a personal assistant can’t multitask?

” Logan exhaled on a sigh. “And I fucked her because the adrenaline was rushing. Need was flaring, and the woman is hot as hell. Now, if you don’t mind, stay out of my private life.

I’m not here to gossip.” Logan’s head turned so that he could stare down the table at Ares.

“I’m here because, apparently, my honor is being attacked. ”

“Oh, crap.” From Sebastian as he groaned. “Your honor? Really?” He stood. “Know what? I changed my mind. I am not up for the level of drama happening between you idiots tonight. Peace out and all that. See you later.” With those words, he stormed away from the table.

But before he could leave the dining room, two hulking guards appeared in his path.

Sebastian stopped. “Ares, tell them to get out of my way.” His tone had changed. Hardened. “Or I’ll have them on the ground, begging for their mothers, in about five seconds.”

A muscle flexed along Ares’s clenched jaw. “Sebastian can exit,” Ares rasped. “Be sure he is escorted to his vehicle and that any weapons are returned to him.”

Sebastian glanced back. “Thanks, you are the best host.” Sarcasm flowed through his words.

That muscle flexed again. “Leaving my party early means you will never be invited back to another game. You’ll be on my list.”

The words were a threat. Logan knew it. So did Sebastian. When he turned his head, Logan could see the understanding in the other man’s eyes.

Only instead of being intimidated, Sebastian laughed. “Great. Your parties are lame, anyway. I’ll just wait for Logan to invite me back to his place. I’d choose him over you any day of the week.” With a twisted grin still curing his lips, he marched out.

The tension in the room amped up even more.

“Anyone else in the mood to call it an early night?” Ares asked. “Because once Evelyn begins dealing, no one leaves until the games are done.”

Carmichael cut a glance toward Pierre. The Frenchman flickered his gaze at all his competitors.

Freya just sat there, appearing mildly amused.

Ares…oh, but that dick was chomping at the bit to begin.

He’s going to fix these games.

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