Table of Contents
Epilogue
Also by Camilla Stevens
About the Author
DESCRIPTION
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
High Stakes
A Texas Heat Romance
Camilla Stevens
To the sexy oil rig worker who I met at Mixers & Elixirs. Thanks for the inspiration!
Contents
Also by Camilla Stevens
About the Author
DESCRIPTION
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Epilogue
Also by Camilla Stevens
About the Author
Also by Camilla Stevens
WRIGHT BROTHERS SERIES
Mr. Wright & Mr. Wrong
Mr. & Mrs. Wright
So Wrong
CALIFORNIA NOVELS
One Night
Sweet Seduction
TEXAS HEAT ROMANCE SERIES
Home Run
About the Author
Camilla Stevens is a New York transplant from Los Angeles. At night you can find her typing away, usually with a glass of wine, getting all the steamy, humorous, Happily Ever After stories out of her head and down on the page. You can usually find tulips, her favorite flower, making an appearance in most of her novels.
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DESCRIPTION
A Poker Professional who plays it by ear. A Statistics Professor who plans every detail. Will love win…even when the stakes get too high?
CHANCE
His name is no coincidence. All his life he’s taken chances.
Chance is how his days of playing poker came to an end.
Chance is how Juliet first came into his life.
She’s one risk that’s paid off, even though they are as different as oil and water.
Now he’ll risk it all to keep her by his side…even when his past catches up with him.
JULIET
Rhyme and reason rule her life.
Everything from her commute to work to her choice in men, is carefully analyzed for the best possible outcome.
Then Chance storms into her life like a hurricane, throwing all caution to the wind.
With him, nothing is predictable…and it’s perfect in every way.
But can two people who are as different as night day make it work?
Will she be willing to risk it all to find out…no matter how high the stakes are?
This is a Stand Alone, BWWM Romance in the Texas Heat Romance Books.
WARNING: Due to steamy, graphic adult situations and language, and violence, for 18+ only!
1
Left or right.
Like the flip of a coin, it really had boiled down to chance.
Mixers & Elixirs.
Chance McCoy thought it was a clever enough name for the event put on after hours at the Houston Museum of Natural History. He’d only heard about it the day before, and what better last hurrah before returning to two weeks on an oil rig than drinking beer and admiring pretty women in pretty dresses?
He’d done the meandering around thing, finally making his way to the second level, since the band on the first floor playing 80’s pop music hadn’t really done it for him. At the top of the stairs, he’d paused for exactly half a second before coming to a decision.
Left or right.
Left were the wildlife exhibits, which had always fascinated Chance as a kid. It would have been his first choice, if not for the quartet of admirable pairs of legs that had just exited the ladies’ room. Normally, that too would have been his first choice, but he had little desire to play eeny, meeny, miny, moe tonight. It was a delicate dance, focusing on the woman who held most of your interest while charming her friends just enough to keep from being cock-blocked.
At least those mascaraed and eye-shadowed gazes looked him up and down appreciatively enough to let him know that he cleaned up quite nicely.
If they had been just a wee bit closer, they would have seen the wear and tear. There was the tiniest bit of grime under his fingernails that he couldn’t quite get out, short of a bona fide manicure, which was not happening for various reasons. He also carried with him the slight residue of unfinished re-acclimation into polite society. Two weeks in the testosterone-driven stronghold that was his day-job didn’t rinse off all that easily.
But Chance had always been a chameleon. Thanks to his unconventional upbringing, he could kick back with the goodest and ole’est of good ole’ boys, or sip champagne with the creamiest of the crème de la crème. So the comfortable t-shirts and worn-out jeans had been replaced with a decent, black dress shirt and a nicer pair of jeans.
All the same, those four subtle nods of approval put a nice little bounce in his step when he swiveled right instead, straight into the gems and minerals exhibit.
That’s when he saw her.
It didn’t matter that her back was to him, something about those straight shoulders drew him in. The dress was one of those halter-back deals that
left plenty of flawless skin on display. Her shoulders formed a perfectly horizontal line, not too wide or too narrow. Just perfect.
She was standing in front of a display, rigid as a statue. Chance made his way over toward those smooth, brown shoulders. There wasn’t the faintest movement on her part; whatever she was absorbed in held her captive.
As he came in closer, he had a strong feeling that just maybe his luck was about to change.
About damn time.
Chance came around until he could see her in profile: full lips that held the promise of a brilliant smile, but were now slightly parted in awe; a small, round chin that stuck out almost stubbornly; a pointed, round-tipped nose that was overshadowed by the very pronounced cheekbone he had a glimpse of; long lashes that framed eyes that gradually slanted into something approaching almond-shaped.
She didn’t even register him in her periphery, which gave him pause. He certainly didn’t want to interrupt her intense concentration on—he shifted his gaze to the object of her focus—the large purple geode in front of her. One look at that shoulder, which had a rich, warm glow even in the darkness of the room snapped him right out of that lapse in judgment.
“Amazing isn’t it?”
She jumped in surprise, turning to him with all her internal bells and whistles going off at once.
“Oh my God!” she gasped, placing a hand to her heart.
Chance’s brain instinctively went to work.
The body’s physical reaction to all forms of surprise was pretty much the same, whether it was the thrill of winning the lottery, or the shock of running into a grizzly bear during a nature hike. The sensory receptacles all opened up at once, absorbing data to send to the brain at lightning speed: dilated pupils set in eyes that opened wide; flared nostrils; lips parted to form a semblance of an O; ears perked up and alert. Even the blood vessels expanded, allowing for that rapid flow to and from the heart, which would be pumping double-time in an adrenaline-fueled rush.
Interpreting these signals was practically second nature to Chance. It was a perfect cliché, but he could literally read people like a book.
It was what came next that Chance was most interested in.
The human body was also quick to recover from that initial shock, once the brain determined whether the surprise was appreciated or not.
The “not” would be obvious to all but the most blind observer as the body closed in on itself: the brow crinkling; lips pursed or pressed in a straight line; eyes narrowing or looking elsewhere; arms folded over the chest. Taken together, they might as well have been a neon sign flashing: CLOSED FOR BUSINESS.
Fortunately, her open mouth breathed out a small, relieved laugh. That was the first good sign. The rest of her face remained open, taking him in with acute interest. Those pupils stayed dilated behind lashes that subconsciously blinked prettily. The nose flared once again, inhaling those pheromones. Her body subtly twisted his way, letting Chance have a better look at her.
Then that smile appeared. Oh, that smile. It was the kind that took over the entire bottom half of her face, revealing her teeth all the way to the gum line. Chance had always been a sucker for exaggerated smiles like this, which came so naturally to some women.
“Sorry, you just scared me,” she breathed, giving him another small laugh. She had a nice voice, feminine with a slice of huskiness to it that was like that splash of Tabasco sauce in a Bloody Mary.
Her slender hand came to rest against her chest and Chance could practically feel her heart beating underneath it himself. A sudden premonition hit him that one day it would be his hand feeling that lub-dub, lub-dub underneath his palm. It made his own heart beat a little bit faster.
Cool it, Chance. The last thing he needed right now was to get seriously involved with a woman. His circumstances were complicated enough.
“It seems I’m the one who should be doing the apologizing. I didn’t mean to interrupt your concentration.” He nodded toward the large geode on display.
Her eyes followed his. “Oh, that. It’s just fascinating, isn’t it?”
“I agree. Something that looks so ordinary and even a bit rough on the outside. Most people wouldn’t look twice at it. Then you crack it open and your mind is completely blown by the wonders inside.”
The slight comparisons to himself weren’t an accident. In fact, they were subtle hints in her direction.
She gave a light laugh again, before pressing her lips back together as though she was self-conscious about her smile. “Actually, I was just trying to find patterns in it.”
“Patterns?”
She pointed one delicate finger at the glass. Her nails were short and perfectly shaped, with black nail polish. Definitely no grime underneath those nails. In fact, everything about her, from the hair twisted in some intricate knot at the nape of her neck, to the sleek heels she wore, signaled sophistication.
“I was just wondering if there was a reason why one crystal should be bigger or darker than the one next to it. Is it a matter of how close it is to the hollow center? Is it determined by how the geode rests on the ground? Gravity? The heat from the sun? Air? Water?”
“Maybe it’s just a random act of nature?” he offered, now truly interested. The conversation had taken a turn he hadn’t expected, but he was fascinated all the same.
“Random hardly ever happens in nature. Usually, if you search hard enough, you can find a reason and rationale for everything.”
“Is that so?” he replied with a grin.
She looked over at him and immediately matched his grin with one of her own, this time a little more restrained, now that she was in control of herself. Still, it was another good sign. “Trust me, I’m an expert.”
“Is that so?” he added, chuckling.
She gave another one of those femininely husky laughs. “Before you start trying anything on me, I should let you know I’m here on a date with someone.”
“Me? I’m just admiring not so random acts of nature.”
Now those gorgeous lips were twisted in a smirk. “Well, I suppose I should move out of the way, and let you observe the geode unobstructed.”
Chance moved one slight step closer to her, noting how her face and body remained open in response. She leaned back a bit, but her feet stayed in place. All very good signs.
“Who says I’m talkin’ ‘bout the geode?” he said in a playfully exaggerated drawl.
This time that slightly raspy laugh was deeper, as she twisted her head down in a bashful, but flirtatious way. Then she shifted her gaze to face him with a subtle uptick of one eyebrow. “He’ll be back any moment now.”
She probably wasn’t even fully conscious of the challenge her voice and expression held. But Chance was more than happy to pick up the gauntlet.
“Now what sort of man is crazy enough to leave a woman like you all alone, even for a moment? I feel it’s only right that I do him a favor by keeping you company so no man tries to step in and start making the moves on you.”
This time, she couldn’t keep the smile from her face. “You’re awfully bold.”
“Well, as you said, there’s a reason and a rationale for everything in nature,” he replied, raising an eyebrow with his own challenge.
Her body language was very OPEN FOR BUSINESS. Chance almost felt bad for her date. Then again, it couldn’t be going all that swell if the woman in front of him was so amenable to other suitors.
“What am I supposed to tell him when he comes back and you’re standing here flirting with me?”
“We’re just two people who happen to be admiring the same thing,” he said, letting his eyes wander down her body to clue her in on exactly what display he was admiring.
Her eyes responded in kind, though less blatantly: a quick scan of the goods, an even quicker dart in another direction, all while she tried to hide her smile.
Now he was curious about this date of hers. “Was this place your idea or his?”
“Hmm?” she asked, her ey
es widening in surprise at the change in topic. “Oh, mine. I love the museum. Especially the butterfly center.”
“butterfly center,” he echoed.
“Mm-hmm,” she said nodding and returning her gaze to the geode. “I escape there practically every—”
She instantly stopped talking and flashed her eyes back to him, as though she had almost said something she shouldn’t have.
Chance’s smile assured her it was already too late.
The lips that were pressed firmly together did a poor job of hiding her pleasure. The eyes that fell to the floor demurely, and the dimple forming in one cheek told him that she had no problem with him maybe knowing too much of her business.
Before he could proceed they were interrupted by the “someone” she was here on a date with.
“Red wine, as requested,” said the voice, a little too adamantly.
“Someone” was a man who was quite a few inches short of Chance’s 6’3”. He was a bit softer under that, admittedly, much more impressive suit and tie. His dark hair, styled and coifed, was a perfect contrast to Chance’s finger-raked, dark blond hair, which grew a little too far past his collar. “Someone” wasn’t unattractive, Chance would give him that much, but there was an undercurrent of desperation and petulance Chance didn’t much care for.
High Stakes: A Texas Heat Romance Page 1
