All Bets Are On

by Cynthia Cooke

  Perhaps she should deny it? Insist he was wrong, then turn and scurry away, mumbling something about mistaken identity. But she couldn’t get her damned traitorous legs to hold her up, and her blasted tongue couldn’t form the words.

  He pointed to the cup sitting in front of her on the table with the name Jaclyn clearly written in black ink across the front. Damn. Heat flooded her cheeks. There was no denying it now. Pathetic. “Yes, I guess that is me,” she admitted.

  “Is everything all right?” He actually looked concerned.

  “Yes. No. I…” She was an idiot and she certainly was sounding like one. “I’m sorry. I’ve never been on a blind date before. I don’t think I can do this.” Her legs finally kicked into gear. She shot to her feet. “This was a mistake,” she muttered, wobbling and grabbing the table for support.

  “What was a mistake?”

  “You. Here. Us.”

  He rocked back on his heels, a smile hovering around the corners of his lips. Gorgeous lips. Full lips. Soft and sensuous lips. Please, God. Don’t let him smile. She wasn’t sure her senses could take it.

  “So let me get this straight. You don’t want to have coffee. I mean, obviously you have coffee. But you don’t want to have coffee with me?”

  He looked so surprised it was almost pitiful.

  “Yes. I know it’s hard to understand or to even believe, but I don’t want to have coffee with you. You” —she gestured up and down his Godly-like body, even then feeling the pull to touch him, to place her hands on the swells of his chest— “are obviously not my type and I don’t think it would benefit either of us to waste any more time going through the motions. Again, I’m sorry.”

  She hurried past him, her cheeks burning with humiliation, her skirt brushing the floor as the word dumbass rolled off her tongue in quiet chanting mutters. She was an idiot to have listened to Trish. To even have shown up there.

  A complete idiot.

  Chapter Four

  Derek watched the woman run out the door.

  Was she fucking kidding? Not waste her time?

  He’d seen the mouse sitting at the table in the window when he’d walked up. She looked exactly as he expected—boring with a capital B. But he hadn’t expected her to be so skittish. She could barely even look at him. He shook his head as he watched her fumbling with the leash of a dog tied to a table out front. The poor woman really needed someone to help her dress and teach her about style. That shapeless skirt covered up whatever assets she might have. And the way her wild and frizzy hair was pulled back from her face made her look like a 1960’s schoolmarm.

  Why was she hiding her legs under that tent? Perhaps she was one of those cavewomen who didn’t shave. He shuddered at the thought. How would he ever know? She didn’t show an inch of skin. The poor thing probably hadn’t dated much. If ever.

  He was going to kill Minos and Cerberus for getting her hopes up like this. And now she’d just run out on him. On him! And her declaration that he wasn’t her type? That was the understatement of the year. He was tempted, more than tempted, to let her go. And he would, if it weren’t for that damned bet. There was no way he was going to let his minions win this one. He’d be washing cars for a week.

  He followed her out front as she started to walk away with a massive brown dog.

  “Can we try this again? I’m Derek,” he said, eyeing the dog. Some dogs didn’t have a problem with him; others tried to eat his face off.

  She stopped. “I’m really sorry to have made you come all the way down here, but this…this won’t work.”

  “What won’t work? Coffee?”

  “This date! Us.” She gestured wide. “I knew better than to agree to this, but my friend was pressuring me and, well, I caved.” She took a step away from him, then another. “I should have known better. I always let Trish suck me into these things. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

  Now she was talking to herself. The poor thing was addlebrained. She was right, he really was too much for her. If he were smart, he would turn and walk away. Apparently, he was as dumb as dirt because he didn’t move. “How do you know it won’t work? We haven’t said two words to each other.”

  She stiffened, her murky green eyes flashing as she faced him. “I can just tell.”

  This couldn’t be possible. He was the Prince of Hell for Lucifer’s sake. He was the one who walked out, who charmed the pants off girls with a wink and a smile. Who decided what would and would not work. Who would and would not work. Annoyance surged through him. “Wait. Let me get this straight. Because I’m not your type, you’re walking out on me?”

  “You don’t have to put it so harshly,” she said matter-of-factly. “I can just tell there is no reason for us to continue…uh… conversing,” she blurted, finally seizing on a word.

  “Is that what you call this?” He shook his head in amazement.

  “Listen, I’ve been down this road enough to know with one look that this would be a disaster. And trust me, I’m giving up a lot of potential money to walk away, but some things just aren’t worth it.”

  “What are you talking about?” Had those morons paid her to date him? Those sons of bitches! He didn’t need to pay a woman to fuck him.

  She shook her head. “I know I’m not making any sense, but the truth is you’re just too good looking. I don’t date good looking men.”

  “Are you seriously judging me based on my good looks?” He laughed. This was too much.

  Her eyes widened as she fumbled with her dog. A few more curls pulled loose from her too-tight bun. Perhaps that’s what was wrong with her. She was too tight. Maybe a good fucking was just what she needed. Suddenly, he was intrigued.

  She started to walk away.

  “Wait, you are walking out on me, on a lot of potential money, as you put it, because I’m too good looking for you?”

  “Yes,” she called over her shoulder.

  “So you don’t need the money?”

  She turned back to him. “I very much need the money. That is, my kids need the money.”

  He froze. “Your kids?” He didn’t remember her profile saying anything about kids.

  “I run a nonprofit organization for homeless kids.” Her gaze swept over him again. At his Armani suit and Italian shoes. She must have dollar signs blinking in her eyes. “If you’d like to donate to the cause, they’re in great need.”

  His jaw dropped. “Let me get this straight. You’ll stick your hand into my pants and take my money, but you won’t sit down and have a cup of coffee with me?”

  Jaclyn’s eyes widened at his words. What he must think of her. “No,” she said. Then followed up with, “Yes. I guess so. God, I don’t know, it sounds truly awful when you put it like that.”

  “I’ll say it does,” the man agreed.

  She felt her cheeks burning. This situation was going from bad to downright impossible faster than a snake slipping down a drain. “It’s not like that, though.”

  “Really? That’s what it sounds like to me.” There was a challenge in his obscenely beautiful eyes, a smirk to his perfectly shaped lips.

  She took a deep breath to try and explain then thought better of it. “Never mind. Someone like you could never understand.” She wheeled around and continued walking. Rufus looked up at her, back at the man behind her, and then whined. “Don’t even think about it,” she warned him. She’d just made a complete fool of herself. This was why she didn’t ask people for money. She was terrible at it. Beyond terrible.

  The man followed after her, his shadow looming behind her. “So, you’re a coward then,” he called.

  She spun back on him. “Geez, do you think there are any more insults you could hurl my way?” The man was making her feel downright pitiful.

  “Well, yes, if you really want to know. I think you’re a self-indulgent and superficial woman who doesn’t give a damn about anyone but herself.”

  Stunned, she opened her mouth so fast she almost choked again. “I just told you I run a
charitable organization. For children.”

  “And yet, in your own words, you’re turning down an opportunity to potentially gain a donation from me, because you are too much of a coward to get to know who I am and what I’m about. You’d rather jump to conclusions, judge me by my looks, I might add, and then run away. No wonder you’re still single.” This time he turned from her to walk away.

  Angered by his words and completely flummoxed, she called out. “You’re wrong about me.”

  He kept walking. She stared at his back, wondering for the first time if maybe he was right. Maybe she was too judgmental. But judgmental wasn’t a bad thing. It meant she was discriminating. She looked before she leapt. That didn’t make her a coward, it made her guarded.

  Is that why you throw yourself into your work, never giving anyone a chance to get anywhere near you? Because you’re a chicken shit? Her inner voice attacked. Hell no, she wasn’t a chicken shit.

  “You’re wrong,” she called, again.

  He turned back, a big smile on his face. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

  He was enjoying himself, the cad. “Fine, I’ll have coffee with you.”

  “You will? Great,” he said dryly.

  “I will, because trust me, I no longer find you the least bit attractive.”

  The stunned look crossing his face was priceless. “That’s a hell of an invitation.”

  She smiled when she realized how badly she’d just insulted him. But the truth was, she didn’t care. She was actually beginning to enjoy herself. Apparently she was also a secret sadist and didn’t know that about herself either. “Well, like you said, there is all that potential money.”

  Suddenly he was standing before her, close enough to steal her breath and send a flutter moving through her insides all over again.

  “Again, with the compliments. Please, don’t hold back on my account.”

  She looked up into those incredible blue eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Chapter Five

  Derek almost choked on his disbelief. Did she seriously just say she was no longer attracted to him? How he hoped no one was watching their encounter right then or he’d never live it down. No one had ever talked to him that way, or treated him that way. Ever. Hell, who did this little mouse think she was? Whatever misguided compassion he was feeling for the woman was gone. Now she was merely a bet to win. And he would win. He would have sex with this woman and make her eat her words. One way or another.

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll make a donation to your foundation if you accompany me to a charity ball tomorrow night,” he offered.

  “What charity? Rutherford’s, by chance?”

  Hell, he didn’t know. He thought for a moment, trying to remember what his mother had said about the ball. “I believe so. It’s one of those silent auction things,” he guessed. “You know, encompassing several different charitable organizations.”

  “But you don’t actually know for which ones?”

  “I go to a lot of these things,” he defended.

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s my business.”

  “Charity balls?” She looked skeptical.

  “Meeting people. Most deals are not made in back rooms, they’re made at parties over bottles of very expensive wine.”

  “That’s comforting.”

  “Afraid?” he challenged.

  “Of you? Hardly. It’s just that you are exactly the type of person I don’t like talking to at those things.”

  “Not even for a donation to your little foundation?”

  She stiffened, her mouth drawing down. Ah, he’d hit a nerve. “Could you be any more condescending?” she asked.

  “Look, you’re the one who said you needed donations. I’m offering to make one. All you have to do is show up, look pretty, and smile. I know that’s a lot to ask.”

  Her eyes flashed fire. “Stop.”

  “What?”

  “Talking or I might just kill you.”

  “Are you too afraid to spend an evening with me?” He threw down the gauntlet. “Am I just too handsome for you?”

  Her mouth opened in outrage.

  His annoyance had turned to amusement. This might just be a game worth playing. And then he’d be happy to collect his winnings from Minos and the boys, once he got the little mouse into his bed. Very happy.

  “Do my blue eyes make it hard for you to think? To breathe? Is your heart about to pound out of your chest?” he continued, pushing it as far as he could.

  “Seriously?” She actually smiled, and when she did her whole face lit up. For a second, a very small second, he forgot how truly annoying the woman was and thought she just might be the most fascinating creature he’d met in a very long time. “I wouldn’t go anywhere with you.”

  “I knew you’d say that,” he quipped before she could walk away. “You would have a very difficult time walking into my world.” That was putting it mildly.

  Her eyes narrowed. “And why’s that?”

  “Because you don’t have the courage. You might as well throw in the towel on your little homeless foundation right now.”

  “How dare you?” she sputtered.

  “How dare I? I just offered you an opportunity to mingle with Miami’s ultra rich, who are used to doling out thousands of tax write-off dollars, and you won’t go because, let’s say it together—I’m too handsome.”

  “You are insufferable. And you’re not even that handsome.”

  She actually stomped her little foot. He couldn’t help grinning. He was getting to her. He could smell it; hell, he could taste it. And boy did it taste sweet. “You know, you are just as superficial as you believe I am,” he continued.

  “Oh, you think I’m superficial? I bet you drove here in a big black Hummer. That’s the kind of self-indulgent jerk you are.”

  He looked behind her at the black Hummer parked halfway down the street, blinked, and with a quick flick of his hand it immediately changed into his long black Mercedes Benz. He turned back to her. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll make you a bet.”

  “A bet?”

  “Yes. You go with me to this ball Friday night, and I bet you will be in my bed by midnight.”

  “Are you kidding me?” She laughed. She actually laughed and he realized he liked the sound of it. Though why, he couldn’t fathom.

  “I’ll even raise the stakes. You spend the night with me without ending up in my bed, and I’ll throw in $10,000 for your shelter.”

  She swept a trembling hand through her hair, forgetting that it was pinned back and allowing more wild curls to fall loose. He was tempted to reach behind her, pull out the clip, and let it all flow free.

  “Is it a deal?” he pressed, knowing by the way her tongue wet her lips as she stared up at him that there was no way he could lose. The temptation was too great to resist.

  “I can’t believe you’re actually offering to pay $10,000 for a date.”

  “I can’t believe you’re not willing to accept it,” he countered.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll never get me in your bed. Not that night, not ever. Not for any amount of money.”

  He laughed. “Now that I’d consider a personal challenge.”

  Chapter Six

  To Derek’s complete surprise he was excited about his date the next evening. He was looking forward to winning his bet with Jaclyn, and his bet with his minions. But the absolute best part would be getting the uptight Miss Jaclyn to abandon all her pretenses of being a cold fish. He couldn’t wait to slip past her defenses, seduce her drab clothes right off her back, and hear her beg for mercy as he took her to heights she’d never before reached. Tonight, she would be screaming his name and begging for more.

  And the game would be won. Point and score!

  “You taking the mouse to the ball tonight?” Minos asked, winking at his partners in crime as the three piled into Derek’s office.

  “You wanted to get me laid, didn’t you?”

  “Well, yeah,
Boss, but we didn’t expect you’d actually go through with taking her out in public,” Phlegyas said.

  “Bringing her out in front of your mother, even,” Minos added.

  “Then why’d you set up the date in the first place?” Derek barked, annoyed that they so cavalierly messed with the woman’s life. Worse yet, messed with his life.

  “Because you’ve been a little uptight lately,” Cerberus said, obviously trying to smooth things over. It wasn’t working.

  “Yeah, like that time you sent me flying into the next realm just because I was a little late,” Phlegyas said.

  “And don’t forget that coffee mix-up,” Minos added, nodding.

  “If you don’t want to spend the next week mucking out the bottom of the river Styx, just make sure you don’t do anything stupid tonight,” Derek warned all three of them.

  “Stupid? Us?” Minos asked, as if the thought were impossible. As if they, the three most moronic minions in the Underworld, could ever do anything remotely dumb.

  “Yes, you.” Derek slipped in his cufflinks, two gold Ds, then walked out the door and headed toward the black stretch Mercedes limousine. “Now, which one of you numbnuts is going to drive us?”

  “That would be me, Boss,” Phlegyas said hurrying toward him, his driver’s jacket hanging over his arm. “Got to be there to make sure we win our bet.”

  “Don’t be so sure you will,” Derek grumbled. More snickers from the peanut gallery. He climbed into the back of the car, and Phlegyas shut the door behind him. Getting the little spitfire, whose heart raced a million miles a second every time he stepped within a foot of her, into his bed would be a slam-dunk. And then those numbnuts would pay. They’d pay real well.

  Within twenty minutes, they were pulling up in front of a small, well-maintained bungalow. Phlegyas opened Derek’s door for him. He stepped out of the car and headed up the walk and onto a spacious porch adorned with two white rocking chairs. Very homey. She probably had three cats and a house full of afghans. He knocked on the door, heard her dog bark, and then before he could take a breath, the door opened and a mouth-watering sensation stood before him.