Squeeze Play

by Pierce, Nicolette

  “You can collect your favor when he returns to Vegas.”

  “That wasn’t the wager,” I said.

  “Another wager?” she complained. “What is it with you two and wagers?”

  “I was asking myself that too.”

  “What did he wager?”

  “That we’d get married.”

  A startled gasp was the only thing I heard.

  “Jessica?”

  “The idiot!” she wailed. “I transformed him from a nobody poker player into a name synonymous with Vegas. He’s a star because of me! How many times did he win Sexiest Poker Player of the Year? It was all because of me!”

  Personally, I thought it was his good genes and infectious smile.

  “And then he ruined it in one hand!” she shrilled. “It’s bad enough to want to marry you—you’re not even a model—but then to lose and be rejected on television!” she sniffled. “Oh, I have to issue press releases this instant!”

  “I didn’t reject him! He left. I need to talk to him. I want to marry him.”

  “Of course you want to marry him. Every woman does! Doesn’t he realize how much work I’ll have to do to recover his image? He’ll be a laughingstock.”

  “Not if he marries me.”

  “He’s a bachelor!”

  “I love him!”

  “We’re talking money, not love.”

  “And what about you and Adam? Are you saying that Caleb doesn’t deserve to be just as happy as you are?”

  “But . . .” she paused with a giant sigh. I had found her weak spot. “I guess I could come up with a press release about . . . wait. How about this: Nadia Wolf wins tournament, but Caleb Usher wins her hand. That’s not bad. Let me think on this some more. I know I can come up with something even better. You’ll have to become my client too. If I’m selling you as a package, it might work. It’s not ideal, but I guess I . . .”

  “Jessica,” I said, interrupting her running thoughts.

  “What?”

  “None of this will happen if you don’t tell me where Caleb is.”

  “I’ll have papers drawn up for you to sign.”

  “Jessica . . .”

  “My normal cut is ten percent, but I’m raising my fee. I’ll have to work harder with you in the picture.”

  “Jessica!”

  “Yes, yes,” she huffed. “He’s staying at a hotel not far away. Let me check the travel documents.”

  * * *

  I knocked on the door and waited, willing my pulse to stop pounding so violently. The door swung open. Caleb’s brow darkened as soon as he saw me.

  “I’m not taking the ring back,” he said.

  “You ran away.”

  “So did you. Several times,” he muttered.

  This brooding side of Caleb was new, but he couldn’t pull it off at all. It only made me want to tease him and ruffle his wavy locks. Not a good tactic at the moment.

  “Can I come in?” I asked.

  He shrugged and held the door open. I stepped into the suite and glanced around at the lavishness of it. My room had four walls and a bed. I still wasn’t used to having money. Leave it to Caleb to get a suite complete with a hot tub, fully stocked bar, and a thousand-thread-count bed set. A quick glance at the large, welcoming bed had me turning to look elsewhere.

  Fully stocked bar? Don’t mind if I do. The mini bottles of wine held no interest for me. I’d had enough of Frankie’s wine to last a lifetime. Well, at least a year . . . eh, month. I took a beer and opened it. The dark liquid hit my tongue like a dirty rag.

  Caleb cracked a smile as my face screwed in disgust. “I’ll trade you,” he said, handing me his mixed drink.

  I took a sip. “Much better.”

  “I’m sorry I put you on the spot,” he said.

  “You didn’t.”

  “I feel like an idiot. I thought for sure I’d win.”

  “I thought so too. You normally do.”

  “Except when it matters the most,” he said, taking a swig of the filthy brew. His face didn’t pinch together, but he still wore a scowl.

  “You owe me a favor,” I said, stepping close.

  He eyed me suspiciously but stood his ground, which was quite close. “I won’t take the ring back.”

  “Would you shut up about the ring?” I grasped his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. He shut up. Look at that, kissing really does shut a person up. But it was making me forget my purpose. Not that kissing him didn’t fall into the plan somewhere. But, first step first. I released his shirt and stepped back. His brows rose in confusion, but at least the scowl was gone.

  “Come back here,” he said.

  “Not until I get my favor.”

  “Damn the favor! I should learn never to wager with you.”

  “Funny, I said that about you.”

  “And yet, here we are,” he said, scowling again. “What’s the favor?”

  I pulled the ring out of my pocket. “Ask me to marry you.”

  He stared at the ring as if it was offensive. “I already did.”

  “No. You wagered with me. You wanted to win me.”

  “I seem to be able to win everything except you.”

  “Some things are meant to be asked for.”

  His eyes wandered to mine before settling on the ring again. His hand reached out to touch the ring. His fingers skimmed over it as though it was as delicate as a flower petal. “Your favor?” he questioned.

  I gave a nod. “You owe me a marker.”

  Caleb’s fingers curled around the ring and took it. He stared at it. “It reminds me of you,” he said in thought. “As soon as I saw it, I knew it was your ring.”

  “Why?” I asked, looking at the large round diamond circled by a ring of small emeralds. The silver band had small diamonds encrusted around it. It was glittery and overpowering. Breathtaking. Unlike me in every way . . . except that I loved it.

  “The way the emeralds circle the diamond reminds me of a poker chip. I fell in love with you while stealing your chips,” he said with a playful smirk and then continued, “The green is the same color as your bewitching eyes that visit and tease me every night. The diamond is beautiful and strong just like you. It’s centered in the middle as large as life.” He reached up and cupped my cheek. His thumb caressed softly. “You are the center of my heart, the center of my life.” His hand dropped as he looked back at the ring. “And the small diamonds running around the band reminded me of all the little reasons why I love you . . . all the little things that make you such a wonderful, warm, amazing woman.” My throat caught when he sunk down on one knee, capturing my hands in his. He slipped the ring on my finger. It fit perfectly. It rested there, sparkling in between his hands with such hope. “Nadia, my love, my kitten, will you please make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

  “Yes,” I choked, overcome with a wave of emotions. “Yes!”

  Caleb stood and brought me into his arms, kissing all the emotions away until I was left with only one, and dang if the bed seemed a mile away.

  “I love you,” he whispered. “I was afraid I lost you.”

  “I could say the same thing.”

  “You’ll never have to worry about that.”

  “You know that Frankie will want to marry us,” I said as his kisses drifted to my neck.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he mumbled.

  “Mya will dress me up in a ridiculously over-the-top dress.”

  He nipped at my ear, backing me toward the bed. “All the more fun to remove.”

  It was closer than I thought. I felt the mattress press into the backs of my legs.

  “I was thinking . . .” I babbled as he stripped my shirt off. “Since the building burned down . . .”

  “Nadia,” he said, interrupting as he pulled off his own shirt. The sight had me staring without a single thought in my head. Well, maybe one thought. “You’re going to finish the entire tour, but your nights are mine. Then we’re going home. I d
on’t care where that home is as long as it’s with you. Where you go, I go. And right now, that’s in bed,” he stated greedily, pressing me down on the bed.

  “Caleb . . .”

  His lips were firm against mine, effectively silencing me. Our legs mingled together and our hands roamed. His skin was so warm and exciting. It was an addiction waiting to take me.

  “Caleb?” I nipped at his lips.

  He groaned and nipped back. “Stop talking.” His hand slid the length of me.

  “But . . .”

  “You can’t stop talking, can you?”

  “I can,” I said.

  He planted a kiss and rolled me on top of him with a devilish smile. “Care for a wager?”

  I smiled back. “I’ll win.”

  “You can try.”

  “I’ll do better than that,” I vowed to my fiancé.

  “May the flop be with you.”

  ~ Doyle Brunson

  Find out what happens next in the Nadia Wolf character novels.

  It all begins with Greyson’s The Last Tailored Suit.

  Keep reading for a first chapter preview . . .

  Chapter 1

  “Have you heard that she’s engaged?” Remy asked warily, taking a swig of beer.

  Greyson barely nodded. “Yeah. I heard.” He stretched his tired legs in front of him, staring out at his disheveled landscape baking under the midday Las Vegas sun. His backyard was in a constant state of change. It had started with a shovel and a sleepless night and was now on its way to becoming a garden filled with surprises — surprises that had been designed with Nadia in mind.

  And now she’s engaged to Caleb.

  If he didn’t actually like the man, he’d have let his temper take control, flown to Paris or wherever the hell they were now, and punched him. But, as it was, he did like Caleb. And he wanted the best for Nadia. If that meant the two of them sharing a life, then he would accept it. Grudgingly.

  Dammit!

  It was going to take another sleepless night of gardening to get her out of his mind . . . again. Not that she had ever been completely out to begin with.

  “You okay?” Remy asked. He sucked down the rest of the beer and waited.

  Greyson had to chuckle — a sound he hadn’t made for weeks. Remy looked thoroughly uncomfortable about the prospect of talking. “I’m fine,” Greyson finally said, letting Remy off the hook.

  Remy grunted.

  “What?” Greyson asked.

  “That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. You have a grizzly beard, and there are dark, saggy bags under your eyes. You look like shit.”

  Greyson smiled ruefully. Remy wasn’t one to mince words. He was brutally honest. “Would you believe I’m better?”

  “I might believe that,” Remy said with a small shrug. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Is that why you’re here?” Greyson asked. “Are you checking up on me?”

  Remy’s large hand slid over his shaved head. “I heard the news and thought you might be wallowing in your garden.”

  “I don’t wallow.”

  “No, but I know you,” Remy said.

  “That still doesn’t mean I wallow.”

  “No, but you might wrap yourself up in a project and forget about life around you. Don’t forget the many years I worked for you. There were times when you were so focused on the job at hand, I couldn’t even reach you.”

  Greyson didn’t need the reminder. He relived those days over and over again. Shovel after shovel, he remembered. Remy had been his right-hand man then. If he couldn’t break through, how could Nadia have?

  “I haven’t forgotten anything,” Greyson said. “In fact, my project has grown. I plan to bring life here.”

  “I’m not talking about flowers,” Remy stated with a frown, as though flora was the bane of man’s existence.

  “I don’t mean flowers,” Greyson said. “I’m turning the house into a bed and breakfast.”

  Greyson had come up with the plan last week. The “house” was actually a sprawling three-story mansion that he’d come to hate. Well, perhaps hate was too strong a word. But he’d never loved the house, not in the sense that it was his home. It had always been just an address, and then it became a reminder of Nadia and his past life wearing suits. Suits he no longer wore. His CEO days were behind him.

  It was time to move on.

  He would create a luxury retreat. A haven for those needing an escape from the realities of life for a day, a week, however long they wanted to stay. Once it was operational, he would sell it for a tidy profit. Not that he needed the money, but it would free him to start over again somewhere else.

  That was the plan.

  And if not for the empty pit in his stomach, he’d be excited.

  “A bed and breakfast?” Remy cocked a brow.

  “Yes. I’ve hired a manager to deal with the start-up.” It was something he’d had to do. Greyson had every skill to open the bed and breakfast on his own, but he didn’t want any part of office work anymore. That was how his life fell apart the first time. The new manager could handle the paperwork, and Greyson would focus on finishing the extensive ten-acre garden. “She’s starting today. In fact, I expect her any minute.”

  Remy’s mouth twitched.

  “What?” Greyson asked.

  Remy held up his hands as his smile grew. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking about the last two managers you hired. They both tried to kill you.”

  “I admit I’ve recently had bad luck when it comes to hiring,” Greyson said dryly. “But this time I had someone else do it for me.”

  When Greyson had sought out the recruiter, he had the same fear. He didn’t want a repeat of his last experiences. It was no wonder Nadia didn’t want him. He brought her nothing but problems. Between his own off-kilter employees and his brothers’ antics, no woman was safe around him.

  And to be honest, he didn’t care who the manager was as long as the job got done. He had no intention of sticking around anyway. Let the new owner deal with staff.

  Remy stood to leave. “David has been begging to go out and grab a drink.”

  “I heard,” Greyson replied with a smile only a mischievous brother could have. “Mya’s in the process of turning one of the guestrooms into a nursery.”

  “It’s turned into a giant production. Even Frankie and Mark are involved. We should probably be nice and let the guy out for a night.”

  “I think he should suffer just a few more nights,” Greyson said, having no qualms about leaving his brother hanging.

  “That’s cruel, man,” Remy said with a deep chuckle.

  “I’m not so cruel as to leave him hanging indefinitely. Why don’t we meet up on Friday night? That’s only a few nights away.”

  Remy agreed and headed for the door. “Are you going to call him and let him know?”

  “He can stew for another day,” Greyson said, following Remy outside.

  Remy shook his head. “I’m glad I’m not your brother. I’ll leave it up to you to tell him. But put the poor man out of his misery soon.”

  David was anything but a “poor man,” and he certainly wasn’t miserable. David had a beautiful wife who he loved to the ends of the earth. She returned that love equally. And, he was going to be a dad for the first time. David was anything but a poor, miserable man.

  As Greyson watched Remy angle into his car, a dark, older-model SUV stopped at the closed gate. Greyson didn’t bother to walk to the panel. He knew Remy would drive out and open it for the person. Or, should he say, Jenna Newman, his new manager.

  * * *

  Jenna had packed her few belongings and tossed them into her decade-old SUV. The recruiter had told her that she could live on-site at the bed and breakfast located on the outskirts of Las Vegas. It fit her plan perfectly. In truth, she had nowhere else to go, and if she disappeared from the world for a while, all the better.

  Before she’d set out onto the road, Jenna had quickly changed into he
r best skirt suit and knotted her long, auburn hair into a tight, professional bun at the nape of her neck. She wanted to make a good first impression since it would be her first day on the job with a boss she had never met. She’d thought for sure she’d at least meet him before he officially hired her. But it had never happened.

  It was odd.

  But it didn’t bother her at all. She had heard of Greyson Miller. So she knew he was a powerhouse in the business world. To work for him would be a boon to her résumé. In fact, she was surprised he’d hired her at all, considering her lack of qualifications. Sure, she had a degree, and she had worked for a small start-up, but Mr. Miller could have hired anyone. Why her?

  It made Jenna determined to make a good impression. If she was going to succeed, she had to put her business face on and work as hard as she could. She wasn’t going to let Mr. Miller’s blind faith in her go unfulfilled.

  And now, as she drove up a long stretch of driveway, she had the first glimpse of her new home . . . and it was magnificent. The three-story mansion spread massively across the wide yard.

  A muscular man with olive skin and a heavy brow opened the gate for her and drove past. He gave her a curious glance but kept driving. Perhaps he was part of the staff. She wondered who else worked here.

  As she parked near the front door, she noticed a gardener standing and waiting. She was definitely going to have to issue uniforms right away. The man looked nearly homeless and quite dirty.

  “Hello,” the gardener said, walking over to help her with her bags. “I assume you’re Jenna Newman.”

  “Yes,” Jenna said. “Did Mr. Miller tell you that I was starting today?”

  The gardener looked at her as if confused. A lock of dark hair curled toward his gray eyes.

  “I’m the new manager,” she explained. “If you’ll let him know I’m here, I can begin right away. I’m sure there’s much to be done.”