A Player for A Princess: Dirty Players Duet #2

by Tia Louise

  Glancing down, I relax my grip on the chair. I focus on calm, stay in character. I straighten the enormous ring on my hand. It’s costume jewelry—fake yellow topaz set in fake yellow gold. How fitting, considering everything about me is fake.

  Still, even in this remote location, wearing this silly dark-brown wig, I feel exposed, laid bare. I can’t do this in front of him. Even if he knows what I am, I’m ashamed for him to see me doing it.

  Seth only pauses a hiccup before resuming the act. “He’s right, Miss Lampert. You can’t walk out when you’re winning.”

  I want to kill Seth. “I can’t…” I start, but it’s too late.

  The dealer only pauses a moment before starting the wheel again. My heart beats too fast. It shoots a pain between my shoulder blades, and I haven’t moved my chips. I haven’t moved anything. I have to sit down if I’m going to activate the switch, but if I sit, I’ll be right beside Cal. Our arms will touch. I’m not sure I can handle that.

  “No more bets!” The dealer’s hand passes over my stationary chips.

  Seth had moved his a few rows to the left, and I feel his eyes on me watching, waiting to see if I’ll choke. The wheel is slowing. I can hear the noise of the ball decelerating on its track.

  Cal’s hazel eyes are like heat against my skin, never moving away, not letting me escape this time. I hear his voice the last time we spoke: I love you, Zelda…

  My chest rises and falls quickly. I’m still standing.

  “It’s slowing down!” Seth’s voice is eager, but it’s directed at me. He’s trying to snap me out of it.

  If I blow this spin, we’ll lose everything. I’m on my own now. I left Cal behind, and even if he followed me, it changes nothing. I have to be able to take care of myself.

  “Slower…” Seth says again.

  With a blink I break Cal’s spell over me and lean down as if to adjust my ankle strap. A flick of my wrist and a curl of my toe, and the silver ball clatters into red seven.

  “OH!” Seth bellows. “I DON’T BELIEVE IT!!!”

  He slaps my shoulder, but I haven’t regained my footing. Pulling up quick, I’m slammed into Cal’s chest. My palms are flat against his jacket, and his warm breath skirts across my cheek. Strong hands grip my waist, and his warm-cedar and citrus scent floods my brain.

  My insides clench. Whatever made him come after me, it’s certainly over now—unless now he wants to make me pay for what I did in Monagasco, my role in his brother’s assassination attempt. I might not have known what Reggie and Wade were planning, but I helped them get into the country all the same. I lied to all of them.

  “Zee,” he says softly, his fingers grazing the skin of my lower back. The tiny hairs on my body rise, and my stomach flips the way it always does when Cal touches me. All the places and all the ways we’ve been together flood my mind.

  “I’m sorry,” I manage, pulling away.

  I can’t be here with him like this. It hurts so much knowing he knows everything. Everything we had, those moments with him were all stolen. It’s what I am. A thief.

  And now he knows.

  Seth grabs my upper arm, pulling me to his side. “I say, Miss Lampert, you must be my lucky charm.” The accent is still there, but ice is in his tone.

  The muscle in Cal’s jaw moves, and I see his anger flash at my partner in crime.

  “Cash me out.” I swipe my black clutch off the table, twisting from Seth’s grip.

  My hands shake as I collect my winnings. I don’t even bother to count them. I take the money and run. Seth will meet me at the dock like we planned. Noises are behind me, but I don’t stop. I practically sprint to the doors and out to the line of cabs. It only takes a moment for me to dive into one.

  “Grapetree Point,” I say, slamming the door.

  I fall back against the cracked vinyl seat as we speed off into the night, tears lurking in the corners of my eyes.

  2

  Tracking

  Cal

  She’s in St. Croix.

  In a casino, no less.

  I’m standing in the shadows of the run-down resort, watching the dim-lit area fill with gamblers, waiting in the wings for her to appear.

  Logan discovered the Divi on the largest of the U.S. Virgin Islands and decided to check it out. It was a long shot, but it paid off. We’d spent a day on Tortola, doing our best covert investigation, trying to adjust to “island time” despite our sense of urgency. We waited and waited, and neither Zelda nor Seth ever appeared.

  Visions of Helen Regis dead in a Miami bathtub flickered in my mind, and my fists came out. I took a few chances asking questions around Road Town.

  Harbor guards insisted no one matching her description had passed through any of the docks they monitor. I was on the verge of searching boat to boat when Logan suggested we try this place.

  The resort needs renovations. It’s nothing like the Royal Casino back home, but I suppose I grew up in the gold standard. It’s not an entirely fair comparison.

  A few green-felt tables for poker and blackjack are surrounded by brown leather high chairs. A wall of slots glows like a carnival, filling the air with their tinny music. In the center of the room is a roulette station.

  Zelda is a shark at blackjack. I remember the night I watched her turn one hundred euros into eight hundred without batting an eye, and I was such a love-struck fool, I accepted her “Daddy taught me” excuse. It won’t happen again. I’m wise to Zelda Wilder. According to Ava, she’ll head for that shiny brass wheel if Seth decides they need money.

  As much as I don’t want it, my stomach tightens at the thought of her with Seth. I’m simultaneously furious and over-protective. The first night I met him at the yacht party, I could see he made Zee uncomfortable. The way she flinched when he danced with her, the annoyance touched with fear in her eyes is on my mind.

  She belongs at my side. I’ll deal with her lies and her role in what happened to Rowan, but when the reckoning is over, Zelda is leaving with me.

  A thump pings my wrist, and I look down at the text on my smart watch. It’s from Logan: Target spotted. Making my move.

  Every nerve in my body sparks to life, and I sweep the room again searching for her pale blonde hair. A man in a dark blazer approaches the table just behind the wheel. I see Logan’s tall, beefy form casually approaching from the left. My brow furrows, and I don’t understand why I can’t find her. I watch as he walks around the group. His eyes are fixed on a woman with her back to me. She’s wearing a black dress with straps of fabric crisscrossed over her back. Her hair is a severe, dark bob like the woman in Pulp Fiction.

  Then it hits me—it’s her.

  I watch as Logan speaks to her, and I recognize the movement of her shoulders, the way she pulls away defensively. I hold the brass rail in front of me to keep from storming out there and grabbing her, throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her out of here like some ridiculous cave man.

  Lingering in the shadows, I watch her sit on the tall barstool at the table. She crosses her legs, and I allow my eyes to glide down them to the black heels she’s wearing. Zelda Wilder isn’t tall, but she makes up for it by wearing shoes that accentuate her gorgeous legs.

  I’m furious and relieved, and as much as I have to keep this part of me on a leash, I want those luscious legs wrapped around my waist. She won’t run away from me again.

  Seth strolls up to her other side, and my anger is back. I’ve researched this guy since learning how much influence he has over my girl, and I’ve learned several things—for starters, he is not a Kentucky colonel.

  He’s a con artist from Kansas. He’s been arrested a few times for petty crime, nothing major. Still, I can tell from his track record he’s smart. The only thing keeping him from real jail time is his brain. He’s a tricky bastard with no clear motivation, which makes him dangerous. He’s helping Zelda in order to get something in return. But what?

  Commotion at the table draws me from my reflection, and I see Logan p
ulling back. He does a little nod and walks away from her. We agreed to verify and walk away, hang around outside then follow them to wherever they’re hiding.

  It’s what we agreed to do, but I can’t stay away from her. As if pulled by invisible chains, I take the short flight of steps down to the main floor. I cross the room to where she sits, her back to me as she faces the wheel.

  I want to touch her, inhale her sweet scent. I want to hear her voice. I want her to know I’m here and come to me. I want her to say she’s sorry for all of it.

  At the very moment I reach her, she steps back and makes a comment about leaving. I look at her stack of chips on the table, and while I don’t know what they’re doing, I know it’s something illegal. No one wins that much at roulette.

  “You shouldn’t break a winning streak,” I say near her dark head.

  Her entire body tenses as if I’ve shocked her, and she spins around. Crystal-blue eyes lock on mine, and my chest squeezes. Everything between us floods my brain. She can see it in my eyes. I can see it in hers, until she blinks away, pulling closer to Seth as if for protection.

  No, beautiful. I’m the one who protects you. I step into the gap left by Logan, closer to my girl. She’s cowering like a puppy who knows she’s done wrong. I’ll deal with her, but I won’t have her turning to a snake to escape me.

  “Have we met?” I say softly, letting my warmth pass over her bare shoulder. Her little shiver makes me smile. “You seem familiar.” Very familiar.

  She twists her hands, not looking at me, and that asshole Seth gives her some order about staying. I want to pop him in the mouth. Instead I watch Zelda, waiting to see what she’ll do.

  I know my Zee, and she’s strong. She’s smart as a whip, and she’s loyal. What will she do now that she’s cornered? I almost laugh as the answer springs to the front of my mind—she’ll slide open a window, jump into the ocean, and swim away.

  And I’ll swim right after her.

  “No more bets!” The dealer passes his hand over the table.

  Her internal struggle is plain on her face, from the tiny line piercing her forehead to the way her blue eyes dart around the grid like little birds. She’s flustered by my presence, and I love that I throw her off balance. I love that as strong as she is and as much as I’ve given her, I still have the upper hand.

  She leans down as if to adjust her shoe, and the roulette ball wobbles. My eyes dart to the table, and I watch as the silver ball shimmies and then drops straight into red seven. So that’s their game.

  It’s a clever scam, and one our security has dealt with before in Monagasco. Ours was a three-person job—one man placed the bets, a second distracted the dealer, and the third activated a radio transmitter from the next table over. It was actually a woman with the small transmitter hidden in her cigarette case. She pressed the button, and the metal ball dropped like clockwork into the corresponding space on the wheel.

  Seth lets out a yell and slaps Zee on the shoulder. It sends her straight into my arms. I scoop her up, reveling in this familiar position. Her blue eyes blink up at me, round and full of… something very new. Is it shame?

  “Zee,” I say, a crack forming in my wall of anger.

  That bastard Seth jerks her away, and I’m ready to take care of him when she whips her arm out of his grasp.

  “Cash me out,” she says to the dealer, and as soon as she’s handed her winnings, she practically bolts for the door.

  I’m right behind her, but at that moment, a wad of garishly dressed tourists spreads out into the path blocking me.

  “Excuse me,” I growl, trying to get around them, but we launch into a game of back and forth and by the time I’m away, so is Zee, speeding off into the night.

  “Dammit!” I shout, but my irritation is cut short by a black SUV pulling into the circular drive and stopping in front of me.

  The locks click open, and I see Logan in the driver’s seat. I’m in the vehicle at once, and we’re heading down the dark, two-lane road after her.

  “I’ve been watching the door for her to come out,” he says, increasing our speed. “She was moving fast, but I at least caught their direction.”

  “Good work—any idea where she’s headed?”

  “None. They could be staying on the island, or…”

  The way his voice trails off causes me to look up. “Or?” I demand.

  “Or there are several piers hidden along this cove. They could have a charter at any one of them.”

  I know how to contact her. I still have her cell number, but after the way she ran from me, after her not showing up in Tortola like she said, I’m not sure I want to alert her.

  “I think it’s best if we head back to the airport.” Touching my fingers to my upper lip, I look out the window into the night.

  “It’s probably the right call. We don’t know who might be watching us.”

  “Right.”

  We’re not the only ones looking for Zelda Wilder. My pulse ticks a little faster. I know the truth of that statement too well.

  What are you thinking, Zee? Why are you running from me?

  3

  Captured

  Zelda

  Grapetree Point is a secluded beach with a curved bay and deep water close to shore. It’s hidden from the road and difficult to find, making it perfect for our needs. I follow the very narrow path full of brambles from where I paid the cabby out to the soft beige sand. A small charter is waiting in the low ripples just a few feet out.

  I don’t want to board without Seth. I don’t even want to be seen out here alone, so I walk deeper into the grape trees rising above the foliage. Although it’s still twilight, the gnarled trunks and low-hanging branches increase the shadows and darkness. I run my fingers along the strange, knobby limbs dotted all over with deep purple fruit.

  Reaching up to my forehead, I pull the silly wig off my head along with several of the pins used to keep it in place. Blonde tendrils fall around my cheeks and temples, and I lean my forehead against a bare spot on the tree. I exhale a shuddering breath as Cal floods my thoughts. I remember his eyes—the heat and the anger in them. I wasn’t prepared to see him, especially not on a job.

  A harsh, shushing noise in the brambles changes my moment of shame to fear, and my eyes go wide, straining into the darkness. Someone is coming down the path fast, headed this way. I step back, further into the shadows, rounding my shoulders and hoping to disappear in the trees. Good thing I’m wearing black, although I have too much skin showing to be completely camouflaged.

  Another step back, and a dry limb cracks like a gunshot. The shadowy figure stops. “Zelda? Is that you?”

  Seth! Exhaling loudly, I step out of the trees toward him. “What took you so long? We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Don’t tell me what we have to do.” His voice is sharp, and he grabs my arm, jerking me toward the open shore. “Your boyfriend almost blew our cover.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.” My reply is emphatic. MacCallum Lockwood Tate cannot be my boyfriend in this realm of possibilities.

  Seth is still fuming. “How did he find us, anyway? You’re in disguise. There must be a hundred islands here we could have gone to—”

  “I honestly don’t know. I haven’t communicated with him since we left Miami.” It’s the truth. The last time I messaged Cal, I told him we were headed to Tortola, which was true at the time.

  He waves a small LED light over his head back and forth, and a dark head pops up in the center of the boat, waving a similar light back at us.

  “That is not fucking encouraging,” he says.

  I watch as he rolls up his pants. “What do you mean?”

  Green eyes flash at me. “I mean if he found us that fast, other people can find us just as easy. Come on.”

  My blood runs cold at the thought, and I look over my shoulder for the thousandth time. In the dark, the gnarled trunks and twisted branches all look like men crouching forward, coming to kill us. I shake aw
ay my fear. The people looking for me don’t have to hide in the bushes. They can pull out guns and shoot me from hundreds of feet away.

  “Just like they did to Ava,” I whisper.

  “Zee!” Seth shouts. “Get on the boat!”

  Snapping out of my trance, I look up to see him already across the narrow strip of water and pulling up on the bow of the small yacht. I wade into the warm waters, not even caring that the bottom of my dress is getting soaked. My clutch and shoes are high over my head, and when I arrive at the boat, I toss them onboard before pulling myself out of the water.

  “Patch has clothes you can change into,” Seth says, handing me a towel. “Once we’re on Tortola, we can shop for something better.”

  I think about the eight hundred dollars in my purse. Seth should have the same amount or more on him. He couldn’t have played roulette longer, as I have the transmitter in my shoe; however, he could have stopped off for a round of blackjack to beef up his winnings. I’m pretty good at the game, but Seth is better. He taught me to count cards when we first started working together in South Beach.

  The roar of the boat engine fills the quiet night, and it takes only moments before we’re shooting out, away from St. Croix. We most likely won’t even use the sails tonight.

  “Get comfortable,” Seth says, handing me a small stack of clothes. “It’s a five-hour voyage.”

  Taking the clothes, I do a quick calculation in my head. “We’ll arrive after midnight?”

  “Thereabouts.”

  Turning, I go down the silver ladder to the small space below deck to change. “So you have a plan?” I call up, sliding the zipper down my side and quickly shrugging out of my wet dress.

  I step into the boxers and jerk them over my hips, whipping the tee on just as fast. The entire time, I fight the memory of Cal, of catching his eyes on me in Occitan as I changed into his clothes the night I hurt my ankle. A hollow ache spreads through my chest, and in spite of everything, I miss him so much.