When the doors opened, they stepped right into a lavish suite. There were two leather couches and a couple of matching chairs, a large dining table that would seat at least twelve, and a bar. Plants, floral arrangements, and bright colored art gave the room a real flare.
He guided her toward the dining table. He pulled out a chair for her and she sat down.
“Should I assume you don’t have the two fifty?” he asked.
She frowned. Damn, he’d probably throw her out now. But she didn’t have it, so she shook her head.
“How did you intend to play?” he asked.
“To tell the truth, I was hoping I could convince you to talk without me actually playing poker.”
“Using your obvious charms, no doubt. Well done.” He raised an eyebrow. “And if that hadn’t worked?”
“Well, I have some money. And I’m very lucky.”
He smiled. “Really? Well, we’ll see how far your luck goes. And if it runs out, we can certainly play for different stakes.”
The elevator dinged and a bellman delivered a bottle of champagne in a silver ice bucket and set it on a stand by the table. He uncorked the bottle with a pop, then poured it into two glasses.
“Thank you,” Mr. Danner said to the man, who promptly left. He handed her a glass.
She took a sip and the bubbles tickled her nose. She wasn’t used to champagne.
Here he was plying her with champagne in his private penthouse. She had to ensure he didn’t get the wrong idea.
“I hope you don’t think that I’m going to have sex with you, Mr. Danner. Because I’m not.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, his eyes glittering with amusement.
“Yes. Of course, I’m sure. I’m here for poker.”
“Okay, sex is off the table,” he said.
At his words, thoughts of him bending her over the table and his big body moving close sent her senses reeling. She could just imagine his hard cock pressing into her opening.
Oh, God, she’d gone too long without getting laid. This man was good-looking beyond belief, but she wasn’t going to throw herself at him.
“Good,” she said, but she didn’t sound as definite as she’d like.
He sat down across from her and opened a small metal case about the size of a lunch box sitting on the table. Inside were poker chips and two decks of cards.
“How much money do you have?”
“Um… two hundred.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Thousand?”
She shook her head. “Just two hundred.”
He chuckled, but gave her a stack of chips. She took the money from her purse and handed it to him and he tossed it into the case and closed it.
She knew in the game downstairs that they never asked for the money up front. That’s why she knew she could get away with it.
“I really would like a chance to talk to you. Could we arrange a time to do that?” she asked.
“How about if you win, then we’ll talk tonight?”
She glanced at her small pile of chips, and his much bigger one and frowned.
“And how do I win.”
He chuckled again. “I’ll let you know.”
Her stomach clenched, but this was the only chance she had.
He shuffled the cards, then dealt them out. She glanced at her hand. Two queens. She tried to avoid smiling, but her lips quirked. She glanced at him, but he hadn’t seemed to notice. He gazed at his cards, then placed them on the table face down.
She asked for three cards and got another queen. He stayed.
She pushed a couple of chips into the center.
He matched her stack then, to her dismay, pushed in a much bigger stack.
“You’ll have to go all in,” he pointed out.
She eyed him. Was he just trying to intimidate her? Push in a huge amount of chips so she’d fold?
She glanced at her cards again. She was feeling pretty confident.
“Okay.” She pushed the rest of her chips into the center.
Silently, he turned over his hand.
Three aces.
Oh, God, she was out. In just one hand, she’d lost all her money, and her chance to help Ella.
He swept the chips to his side of the table. “I guess it’s time for the other stakes I told you about.”
“And what would that be?” she asked cautiously.
His gaze locked on her and glided down to her low cut neckline.
“I like your dress.”
She flushed, heat spreading through her at his appreciative gaze.
“Thank you.”
“I’m suggesting you can wager the dress.”
Her gaze shot to his. “I thought sex was off the table.”
“It is.” He smiled. “It’s the dress I suggest go on the table.”
She shook her head. “This isn’t why I came here.” She wasn’t about to be his Friday night fling.
“You came here because you want a chance to talk to me. Then you lost all your money. I’m just giving you another chance.”
She knew it was about control. He wanted to manipulate her. To see how far he could get her to go.
It irked her, but he had something she wanted, and as long as that was true, he called the shots. Mr. Danner smiled. “And it’s not like I haven’t seen what you’ve got on under there on any public beach.”
She frowned, but then finally nodded. She reached behind her back, feeling for the zipper tab.
He smiled. “Want some help?”
“No,” she said stonily. “I can manage.”
She dragged the zipper down, feeling the cool air brush her back as the fabric parted. As she pulled the dress off her shoulders, she couldn’t believe she was doing this.
She avoided looking at him as she slowly lowered the garment, pushing it over her hips and down her legs. Then she stepped out of it and held it out to him.
The moment their gazes locked and she saw the heat in his eyes, her cheeks flamed. His already dark blue eyes had darkened to the deepest midnight blue. She realized her hand was shaking as she held the dress. His fingers wrapped around the slinky fabric, brushing hers as they did, and for a moment, time froze, his fingers against hers, and a sultry heat simmered between them.
Then his hand drew away, the dress with it, leaving her close to naked, and feeling vulnerable in her lacy black bra cut low in front and her skimpy black thong. God, she didn’t want to turn around. He might know women who would wear a bikini this scanty on a public beach, but not her. She reserved this level of sexy for the bedroom.
Or it seemed now, a high stakes poker game with a billionaire playboy.
He placed the dress on the table and sat down. He didn’t leer, or even obviously peruse her body, which she had to admit was classy on his part.
But her skin prickled with awareness of his closeness and masculinity. And she knew that even though he wasn’t being obvious, he was taking in every inch of her almost naked body.
She had to face it, if the man offered to bed her to give her what she wanted, she’d probably drop her panties right now.
She sat down as he dealt out the cards again and she picked up hers. Her hand was a mish mash… one king and the rest non-face cards. She kept the king and a ten, both spades, hoping for a flush, or at least another king.
“How many cards?” he asked.
“I’ll take three.”
He dealt her the three cards and she peered at them. There was no king, but she did get a pair of twos and another ten. That was two pair.
She schooled her features not to give anything away and glanced across the table at him.
“I’ll hold,” he said.
Usually, they would bet now, but the current wager was her dress against him allowing her to talk to him.
“So I reveal now?” she asked.
“You mean more than you already have?” His eyebrow arched as his gaze fell on her breasts.
“I mean my cards.”
“No, we’re not finished betting.”
“I thought the dress…”
“Allowed you into the hand, yes. But now I’m going to raise.”
“But I don’t have any money. You expect me to fold?”
He shrugged. “If you want. But I think you’re quite happy with your hand and would be willing to put more on the table, so to speak.”
“I’m not taking off my bra,” she said, eyes flashing. His lips turned up on the sides in a grin. “Or anything else.”
He nodded. “All right. Then I have a suggestion.”
She pursed her lips as she took in his handsome face, his intelligent gaze considering her.
“And what is that?”
“If I win, you let me touch you.”
“Touch me?” Thoughts of his big hands cupping her breasts. Gently squeezing, then his fingers finding her aching nipples and stroking, then pinching them between his fingertips, took her breath away.
She’d like that. In fact, she’d like nothing more than to strip away her lingerie and lie back on the table to let him take her.
Except to have that talk with him. And walk away with some shred of dignity.
“We said no sex.”
“I’m not talking sex. Just touching.”
“Why would I let you do that?”
“I’ll touch only bare skin. And let me make it more interesting.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”
“If you win, then we talk, just as you wanted.”
“That was already the deal.”
“But what if I promise at least one counter proposal.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You want to talk to me. Which means you want something from me. I don’t know what it is, but the answer will likely be no.”