older man long enough to glance from the pale golden drink to her face. ‘What is this?’ he asked.
‘It’s a...Macau Bombshell,’ she blurted out the name she’d come up with seconds ago.
One smooth brow spiked as he leaned back in his seat. ‘Bombshell?’ Once again, his gaze drifted over her, lingered at the place where her dress parted mid-thigh in a long slit. ‘Would you place yourself in that category, too? Because you certainly have the potential.’
Right, so really he was one of those. A Playboy with a capital P.
A man who saw something he coveted and went for it, regardless of who got hurt. The clear image of his hand on another woman made her spine stiffen in negative reaction, even as a tiny part of her acknowledged her disappointment.
Irritated with herself, she pushed the feeling away.
Now she knew what sort of man she was dealing with, things would proceed much smoother.
‘No, I wouldn’t,’ she said briskly. ‘It’s all about the drink.’
‘I’ve never heard such a name.’
‘It’s my own creation.’
‘Ah.’ He sipped the champagne, falernum, lemon and pineapple mix. Then he slowly tasted the cocktail without taking his eyes off her. ‘I like it. Bring me one every half-hour on the button until I say otherwise.’
The implication that she could be here for hours caused her teeth to grind. She looked from the dealer to the other players at the table, wondered if she could ask to speak to Narciso privately now.
‘Is there a problem?’ he queried.
She cleared her throat. ‘Well, yes. There are no clocks in this place and I don’t have a watch, so...’
The silver-haired man swore under his breath and moved his shoulders in a blatantly aggressive move.
‘Hold out your hand,’ Narciso said.
Ruby’s eyes widened. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Give me your hand,’ he commanded.
She found herself obeying before she could think not to. He removed an extremely expensive and high-tech-looking watch from his wrist and placed it on her right wrist. The chain link was too large for her but it didn’t mask the warmth from his skin and something jagged and electric sliced through her belly.
When his hand drifted along the inside of her wrist, she bit back a gasp, and snatched her hand back.
‘Now you know when I’ll next need you.’
‘By all means, keep me waiting as you try out your tired pick-up lines,’ the older man snapped with an accent she vaguely recognised.
Silver Eyes shifted his gaze to him. And although he continued to sip his cocktail, the air once again snapped with dark animosity.
‘Ready for another lesson, old man?’
‘If it involves teaching you to respect your betters, then I’m all for it.’
The resulting low laugh from the man next to her sent a shiver dancing over her skin. On decidedly wobbly legs, she retreated behind the bar and forced herself to regulate her breathing.
Whatever she’d experienced when those mesmerising eyes had locked into hers and those long fingers had stroked her was a false reaction. She refused to trust any emotion that could lead her astray.
Focus!
She glanced down at the watch. The timepiece was truly exquisite, a brand she’d heard of and knew was worth a fortune.
Unable to stop herself, she skated her fingers over it, her pulse thundering all over again when she remembered how he’d looked at her before slipping the watch on her wrist. She shifted as heat dragged through her and arrowed straight between her legs.
No!
She wasn’t a slave to her emotions like her parents. And she wasn’t the gullible fool Simon had accused her of being.
She had a goal and a purpose. One she intended to stick to.
Exactly half an hour later, she approached, willing her gaze not to trace those magnificent shoulders. Up close they were even broader, more imposing. When he shifted in his seat, they moved with a mesmerising fluidity that made her want to stop and gawp.
Keeping her gaze fixed on the red velvet table, she quickly deposited his drink on the designated coaster and picked up his almost-empty one. He flicked a glance at her.
‘Grazie.’
The sound of her mother tongue on his lips flipped her stomach with unwanted excitement. She told herself it was because she was one step further to confirming his identity but Ruby suspected it was the sheer sexiness of his voice that was the bigger factor here.
‘Prego,’ she responded automatically before she could stop herself. She bit her lip and watched him follow the movement. A deeply predatory gleam entered his eyes.
‘I want the next one in fifteen minutes.’ His gaze returned to his opponent, who looked a little paler since the last round of drinks. ‘I have a feeling I’ll be done by then. Unless you want to quit while you’re behind?’ he asked, sensual lips parted in a frightening imitation of a smile.
The older man let out a pithy response that Ruby didn’t quite catch. Two players quickly folded their cards and left.
The two men eyeballed each other, pure hatred blazing as they psychologically circled one another.
Narciso laid down his cards in a slow, unhurried flourish. His opponent followed suit with a move that was eerily similar and made Ruby frown. The connection between the two men was unmistakable but she couldn’t quite pin down why.
When the older man laughed, Ruby glanced down at his cards. She didn’t know the rules of poker, but even she guessed his cards were significant.
She held her breath. Not with so much as a twitch did Narciso indicate he’d just lost millions of dollars.
‘Give it up, old man.’
‘Mai!’ Never.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Narciso calmly laid down another set of cards that won him the next game. Hearing Giacomo’s grunt of disbelief was extremely satisfactory. But it was the indrawn breath of surprise from the woman next to him that drew his attention.
He didn’t let himself glance at her yet. She’d proven a seriously delicious distraction already. He had plans for her but those plans would have to wait a while longer.
For now, he revelled in Giacomo’s defeat and watched a trickle of sweat drip down his temple.
They were barely an hour in and he’d already divested him of several million dollars. As usual, Giacomo had been lured in by the promise of trouncing his son, enabling Narciso to lay the bait he knew wouldn’t be resisted.
The last game had won him a midsize radio station in Anaheim, California.
It would be a superb addition to his already sizeable news and social media portfolio. Or he could shut it down and declare it a loss.
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