The tension around the table loosened, the other players smiling along with Conrad and looking his way.
But Alex could feel the muscles in his shoulders and neck getting tight. He had to fight down the urge to launch himself across the table and strangle the other man with his perfect black bow tie.
Remember the plan.
Good fucking point.
Alex inclined his head as if acknowledging a joke, raising his glass in another token toast. Keeping his “I don’t give a shit” smile pasted there.
Conrad gave a bit more speechifying, which Alex ignored, checking on Katya down near the bar before sweeping a glance over the rest of the players, noting their reactions. Mrs. Lau betrayed nothing, like the mercenary. Jason was handing his phone to an aide while Christine sipped at her champagne and fiddled with her poker chips. The sheikh stared at Conrad, his brow furrowed.
Alex dismissed him as a threat. The guy appeared inexperienced and Alex had never seen him at a poker table before, so what he was doing here was anyone’s guess. As to the other players, Alex knew for a fact that Jason August liked to play fairly often and when he played he liked to win. Mrs. Lau was another unknown quantity and the fact that her poker face was pretty much perfect made her an opponent to be wary of. Christine seemed as inexperienced as the sheikh, but then she didn’t have that unconscious discomfort that the sheikh radiated. Perhaps she was projecting inexperience as a cover.
The mercenary, though … Shit, there was that nagging familiarity Alex couldn’t quite put his finger on. Yet he was sure he would have remembered a guy with a scar like that from other games.…
“Thank you for bearing with me, friends,” Conrad was saying. “And that’s enough of me talking. Now we get to the fun part of the evening.” He brought his hands together in a sharp clap. “Let the end of the world begin.”
The dealer approached the table and began to deal out the cards.
Alex sat back and sipped at his vodka, aware of the gazes of the other players on him, measuring him in the same way as he’d measured them. He gave them nothing.
But there was something odd about this game. The reputation of the Apocalypse was legendary, the rumors about only the best of the best being invited. The mysterious way the invitations turned up in the first place and the fact that no one was ever asked to participate twice.
Yet the people sitting around this table … They weren’t the best of the best. They were rich and powerful certainly, but as poker players Alex was betting they were hardly the cream of the crop.
“I heard that it’s not really poker that goes on here,” Christine had told him.
So, if it wasn’t poker, then what was it?
He settled back to observe the game as it progressed, going through a couple of early rounds with chips representing thousands of dollars being exchanged. Not that the money was important, or even the winning or losing at this stage. No, what was important was the chance to watch the other players, take note of their playing styles.
Christine tended to talk loudly and laugh when she had a crappy hand, sipping her champagne moodily when it was good. The sheikh drummed his fingers on the side of the table when his hand was bad, his fingers going still when it wasn’t. Mrs. Lau and the mercenary were more difficult to read. Both kept their expressions completely blank, though the Chinese businesswoman’s mouth went tight when her cards weren’t what she wanted. August, on the other hand, was famous for taking a poker chip and tapping it on the side of the table regardless of his hand, usually in an effort to irritate other players. But after a couple of rounds, Alex found that the rhythm of the tapping changed slightly depending on August’s cards. Faster indicated a good hand, slower not so much.
Conrad was a different story. His tells were almost impossible to discern. The guy had been playing too long and was too good at hiding to give himself away so easily. He seemed to shift in his seat a lot and would touch his hair every so often, but they were obvious and Alex was pretty certain he put them on for the benefit of the rest of the players.
Clearly Alex was going to have to pay more attention.
Another couple of rounds passed, the stakes getting slowly higher, the pile of poker chips collecting in front of Mrs. Lau getting larger.
Alex kept himself out of the majority of the rounds, losing a bit to keep everyone else feeling smug, then winning a couple of hands so he didn’t look like an amateur.
Conrad seemed to be doing the same, letting the early glory go to Mrs. Lau more often than not. He was probably doing the same thing Alex was, saving himself for the later rounds.
About an hour later, Conrad announced a short break for refreshment purposes and Alex got up from the table to join Katya by the bar.
“Are you bored yet?” He leaned an elbow on the bar top.
She was sitting on a stool, elegant legs crossed, her purse in her lap. “I’m used to waiting. It doesn’t bother me.”
“What about intel then? Zac’ll have my balls if I don’t have information to pass on to him.”
She frowned. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”
He wasn’t surprised she’d picked up on his unease, and this time he didn’t even try to hide it. “There’s something off about this game. The players aren’t pros–especially that sheikh–and the blonde is telling me that there’s a rumor that poker isn’t even the aim of it.”
“That does seem strange. Do you need me to do anything?”
He thought about it a moment. “Get in touch with Zac. They’ve been trying to get some info about the players. Ask him if he’s found anything on them yet.”
“Okay, I can do that. You’ll have to give me his number.”
Alex left her to it while he collected another vodka for himself, mainly to hold rather than drink, since he never allowed himself too much while he was playing. Then he went back to the table, leaning on the rail that kept distance between the table and the spectators.
Christine approached him, leaning back against it. “You’re quiet tonight, Mr. St. James. I thought you were supposed to be good. Or is that just to lull us into a false sense of security?”
Alex lifted a shoulder. He knew exactly what the point of this little interchange was, since she was telegraphing it loud and clear. Unluckily for her, he had no interest in her whatsoever. Which was weird, since he usually had some appreciation for a beautiful woman at least. “Perhaps my luck is off tonight.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s it. I think you’re saving yourself.”
“I don’t save myself for anything, or haven’t you guessed?”
Her blue eyes were guileless. “Aren’t you? Not even for your blonde over there?”
He smiled. “That would imply she’s special, darling. And no one’s ever that special.”
“Good to hear. Maybe she wouldn’t mind me crashing the party then.”
Fuck, he really couldn’t be bothered with this kind of game, but he had to play it tonight regardless of whether he wanted to or not. “Party like that needs an invite.”
“Are you giving me one?”
“Oh no, you don’t get it that easily. You have to earn it.”
She gave him an enigmatic look. “I think I can do that. The next round is the fun one.”
He wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but at that moment Conrad ended the break, reminding the players to all return to their seats if they wanted to keep playing.
When everyone had seated themselves again, Conrad put his elbows on the table, lacing his hands together, a wicked gleam in his eye. “I think we’ve all got our heads in the game now, which means this round the gloves come off. It also means I get to make things a little more interesting.” He gazed around and Alex found himself tensing as Conrad’s gaze met his. “Money’s off the table. But to keep it interesting, I thought we’d go old school and have a strip poker round.”
Silence fell around the table.
Interesting. Alex flicked a glance at the others. The sheikh w
as clearly not happy, while Mrs. Lau was expressionless as ever. The mercenary was silent and motionless as a rock, but August laughed. “Holy fuck, South. You’re not expecting me to take my damn clothes off, are you?”
Christine smiled. “Oh, come on, Jason. Where’s your balls? I’m okay with it if you are.”
The Texan leered at her. “Well, honey, if you’re okay with it then—”
“I’m not envisaging the players getting undressed, August,” Conrad cut in. “That would make it far too … easy, shall we say. I’m going to nominate stand-ins for you all instead.” His gaze shifted to Alex’s and the tension abruptly pulled tighter than a bowstring. “Starting with Mr. St. James here. You have a very lovely girlfriend over there by the bar. I nominate her to be your stand-in.”
Fuck, no.
The response was instant and unequivocal. And it wasn’t, despite what he’d told Christine, only because Katya was starting to become somewhat special to him. No one screwed around with his employees. No one.
With a lazy movement he swirled the vodka in his tumbler, managing to keep the slightly bored expression on his face and not let any of his fury out. “So let me get this straight,” he said slowly. “You want to play strip poker, but the players don’t strip, a nominated stand-in does instead?”
“In a nutshell, my dear boy.” The prick was still smiling that smug smile, like he just made the best joke in the world. “That way we preserve our dignity and we all have something nice to look at. I’m sure I can find the ladies here something for their preference too.”
“I have no problem with looking at girls,” Christine said, her mouth curving suggestively. “Though I’m a little disappointed not to see Mr. St. James in the buff.”
Alex laughed. “Oh, honey, don’t give up hope yet. But you know, Conrad”—he didn’t bother to keep the edge out of his voice—“I’m going to have to run that by Katya. I’m not sure she’d agree to taking her clothes off in front of a whole lot of strangers.”
“Well, I guess that all depends on your poker skill, doesn’t it?” Conrad’s tone was slick as a pool of oil. “But I’m sure one of your lovers wouldn’t mind. Aren’t they all strippers and suchlike?”
Okay, so here was the shit he’d always known Conrad would pull, the little power games he liked to play. Probing for weaknesses, testing. And since Katya was here with Alex, it was natural for her to be Conrad’s target.
There was a certain poetic justice to it in many ways. Since if Conrad had been seeking to use one of Alex’s usual lovers, it wouldn’t have bothered him quite so much. Oh, he would have been pissed, but only in the same way as he would if anyone started screwing with him and his stuff without permission.
But Katya wasn’t one of his normal lovers. And he didn’t feel pissed. He felt furious.
Calm down. You have a plan. Remember it.
Yeah, the plan. And that meant putting up with Conrad’s crap to lull the guy into a false sense of security. In which case, maybe a small, token protest would help. It would make Conrad think that Alex had revealed a weakness, that he’d been affected by Conrad’s power plays. And that in turn would make Conrad even smugger. Possibly even complacent.
Excellent.
Alex let out a long-suffering sigh and sat back in his chair. “Cheap, Conrad. I didn’t think we were at the ‘make patronizing comments about my lovers’ stage of the evening yet. Weren’t you supposed to be cleverer than that?”
“You better pray she agrees, son.”
“Oh?” Alex lifted a brow.
“Because if she doesn’t, you’re out of the game.” Conrad’s teeth flashed. “This game is mine and I make the rules. And if I want you out, you’re out. Understood?”
Asshole. Alex lifted a shoulder. “Oh sure, but isn’t strip poker a little juvenile?” He tilted his head slightly, unable to resist baiting Conrad. “I seem to recall someone talking about a game for men, not boys. But perhaps I’m mistaken.”
The other man’s expression didn’t change, but Alex didn’t miss the almost imperceptible tightening of his mouth. A hit. How satisfying.
“You have five minutes to get the lady to agree,” Conrad said as if Alex hadn’t spoken. “I’ll organize stand-ins for the others.”
Alex laughed. “Hell, Conrad, if you want my girlfriend that badly you know you only have to ask. No need to go through all of this strip poker nonsense. I’m always happy to share.”
“I prefer my goods not to be shop-soiled.” Conrad’s hazel eyes glittered. “Are you in or out?”
Time to stop pushing. Alex put his tumbler down on the side table with a soft click. “Well, of course I’m in. But I’ll probably need those five minutes.”
* * *
Katya already knew Alex wouldn’t need those five minutes. She’d heard what Conrad had said and had already made her decision.
The man was targeting Alex and using her to get at him; that much was obvious. Which meant she had to neutralize herself as a possible weapon. And the way to do that with a manipulative game player like Conrad South was to not give him any more ammunition. If she took the fun out of the game, he’d leave her alone.
She straightened from her position with the other spectators at the rail circling the table as Alex approached her. His mouth curved in his usual lazy smile, but there was a dangerous glitter in his eyes. He was furious.
“I presume you heard that?” he asked, sliding an arm around her waist and drawing her away from the other spectators where no one could overhear them, though that didn’t stop every eye in the place from looking at them.
“Yes. And it’s fine. I can do it.”
He turned her so his back was to the room and she was sheltered by it; then he bent his head near her ear and she couldn’t stop the shiver that went through her as his breath passed over her neck. “You don’t have to.”
It wasn’t what she was expecting. She turned her head, meeting his gaze, reading the anger in it. “If you refuse, you’re out of the game. And we haven’t got what we came here for yet, remember?”
An expression she didn’t understand crossed his face. “Getting your clothes off in front of a bunch of strangers was not part of your contract.”
“I will do what I need to do for the success of the mission. Taking my clothes off is nothing.”
“You really want to be naked in front of all these people?”
“Nakedness doesn’t bother me.”
“It did that night when I told you to get undressed.”
Unfamiliar heat warmed her cheeks. “Yes, but that’s because it was you.”
“That shouldn’t make any difference.”
Katya swallowed. “Yes, well, it did. I don’t know these people. I don’t care what they think. They mean nothing to me.” She let the implication rest there for a moment before continuing. “My body is only a tool, Alex. And if it’s useful to you then why not?”
He looked at her for a long moment. “I’ll do what I can to win so you won’t have to be naked, at least.”
“No, you can’t do that either and you know it. South is a bully. If you show in any way that you care about the outcome, he’ll use that against you.”
His jaw tightened and for a second a hot spark of determination glowed in his eyes. A fury. “No, he won’t. I’ll make sure of that.”
Katya opened her mouth to ask how he could be so sure, but then Conrad said, “Well? Time’s up.”
Alex didn’t turn, keeping his gaze on hers. “I won’t let him hurt you, Katya. Trust me.” Again, that determined, certain look. As if he knew what he was doing. As if he had a plan.
A week ago that would have made her angry. That if he did, indeed, have a plan he hadn’t seen fit to share it with her. Yet getting angry seemed pointless now and wouldn’t help the situation. She had trusted him before; she would trust him now. And perhaps if she did, maybe he’d then trust her in return.
Responding to an impulse she’d never been conscious of before, Katya rose up on he
r toes and pressed her mouth to his. A swift, fleeting kiss that she hoped conveyed everything that couldn’t be said now. Then she stepped past him and up to the poker table, met Conrad’s hooded gaze. “I’d be happy to help out.”
The man smiled at her, and it was greedy. “Excellent. A very good decision, my dear. Now, shall we play? Winner gets to determine which piece of clothing comes off which stand-in.”
Some of the women she’d spotted around the room earlier had come forward to the table, taking their places behind the chairs of the various players. Clearly they were also stand-ins of Conrad’s. There was only one man, lean and handsome, and he had come to stand behind Mrs. Lau’s chair.
Had it been Conrad’s intention to add this twist to the game all along? And had these people been invited to be spectators for that very reason?
Katya studied them as she took her place behind Alex’s chair. They were all, without exception, very beautiful and expertly made up. But the look on their faces was blank. Strangely, they reminded her of the poker players seated at the table, as if they too were keeping their emotions in check, not letting anyone know what they were thinking.
The game began, the dealer dealing out the cards. Katya couldn’t see Alex’s face, only the rest of the table. The American woman was laughing while the tall Arab man, the sheikh, kept his gaze squarely on his cards, his lean, fiercely handsome face tight with some emotion Katya didn’t recognize. The fat Texan was tapping away with a poker chip while Conrad sat there lazily holding his cards, his gaze on the rest of the players.
Alex won the first round. Decisively. He didn’t even bother looking around the table, his gaze on Conrad as he said, “The necklace off your stand-in.”
The woman behind Conrad, a stunningly beautiful brunette, nodded and undid the diamond choker she wore around her neck.
Make You Mine Page 19
