His Ultimate Demand

‘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 (#u4017a3b2-e6af-5f18-a53a-4ede2f98d967)

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.