High Stakes: A Texas Heat Romance

by Camilla Stevens

  God how he loved those kisses.

  When she finally pulled away, rewarding him with that mouthy smile, he didn’t even mind the barely concealed contempt on the faces of the two men sent to deliver him to his grandfather.

  He watched Juliet walk off to take a seat at the unmanned bar. Once she was settled, he brought his attention back around to his escorts. He followed them toward the back. Before they turned a corner, he cast one last glance at Juliet. Her smooth brown legs were crossed, with one graceful hand settled on her knee. The other placed her bag on the bar.

  She must have felt him staring because her eyes swiveled his way. He cemented that bright smile, which was more encouraging than any words she could have uttered, as he turned the corner.

  Before he was allowed even a glimpse of the man he had come to meet, the two men stopped him and did a thorough search for weapons. He was certain that they were also checking for wires, bugs, or anything else suspicious. Chance wasn’t so far removed from this world that he’d never experienced this sort of thing.

  Once they were sure he was free of all contraband, they continued leading him on. They walked through an entryway with curtains pulled aside to allow anyone approaching to continue in unobstructed. Sitting at a large round table in a room at the back that was obviously reserved for private parties was his very own grandfather: Viktor Vasiliev.

  26

  The smile left Juliet’s face as soon as Chance turned the corner in the company of those two men, neither of which gave her the warm fuzzies.

  Despite the rather whimsical surroundings, Juliet felt like a fly in one of those venus fly traps, dangerously teetering on the edge before it clamped right down on her. The surreal nature of this whole thing fell right in line with just about everything else she’d endured during her time with Chance.

  So why wasn’t she scared?

  Everything, from what had happened to Chip, to that stupid, pink bear should have sent her running. Yet here she was, right by his side all the way until he had been taken away to meet his grandfather.

  She wondered what the man would be like. She had no idea what the Russian mafia—Bratva—was like, so she simply filled in the blanks with what she knew. Don Corleone in the Godfather was replaced with…God, she didn’t even have a filler, just some vague older man with a Russian accent.

  “You are completely out of your depth, Juliet,” she whispered to herself.

  “hyello,” a smooth, female voice with a rich, thick helping of Russian accent said behind her. She turned around to find one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen in her life smiling down at her. She was wearing a simple white tank top and skin-tight jeans with red high heels. Her hair was dark brown with a copper tint to it. Her eyes were somehow both warmly amused and coolly calculating at the same time.

  “You mind?” the woman said, gesturing to the chair beside her.

  “Please,” Juliet said, grateful for the distraction, but wary all the same.

  “Irina,” the woman said, holding her hand out to shake.

  “Juliet,” she responded, immediately wondering if she should have even stated her name. Right now, everything and everyone was suspect.

  “Yes,” Irina replied and Juliet wasn’t sure if that was an acknowledgement or a statement that she was already aware of her name.

  “Vodka?” Irina asked, then reached her long, lean body over the counter to grab a bottle and two shot glasses before Juliet could answer.

  She shrugged, accepting the inevitable. Drinking hard liquor was another thing she was getting used to being around Chance.

  “I am model,” Irina said, as though that needed to be explained. Juliet took the offered glass of clear liquid and just smiled, unsure of what to say.

  “Tonight ees my turn to cook. Is a schtick. Zee customers love it. A beautiful model cooking for you?” she gave a sultry titter. “Kaalikääryleet. Cabbage rolls. My ex-boyfriend, he vas Finnish.”

  Juliet was thoroughly confused. Irina was obviously talking about the restaurant. Was this just small talk or was she getting at something?

  “You are vith him, no? The man who disappear in back?” Irina said, nodding her head in the direction Chance had been taken.

  Juliet took a good long look at the long legs crossed in front of her. Her eyes came back up to look Irina square in the face. “Yes, I am with him.”

  Irina’s mouth twisted in amused appreciation. She gave some sort of half-nod, closing her eyes briefly as though ceding the point. “You are lucky girl.”

  “I think we’re both lucky.”

  Irina laughed at that, holding up her glass of vodka in salute before downing it. She gave Juliet a sly look as she swallowed. “Everybody talks about him today. Zee grandson of Viktor. Is big upset down in Houston?”

  Juliet didn’t respond.

  Irina waited, then shrugged and poured herself another shot. “I hear things,” she pronounced it thinks.“These men, they think ve women don’t listen. The perks of being the cook.” She downed this one as well, think squinted on eye in Juliet’s direction. “I do not think your man well get what he wants.”

  Juliet was still slowly working her way down her first one, not wanting to leave her mouth free to say anything she shouldn’t. She paused when she heard that.

  “How do you know what he wants?” she asked.

  Irina raised an eyebrow then gave her a coy smile. “I don’t. But I know Russians. He causes trouble, your man. Talk of war. Is not good.”

  Juliet finished her vodka. War? What the hell was Chance getting himself into?

  “Another?” Irina said, one eyebrow raised toward Juliet’s empty glass with a knowing smile.

  “Please.”

  27

  Viktor Vasiliev looked just like his daughter, Chance’s mother, Katherine Vasiliev. He was older obviously, with a head of hair that had gone completely white. He had a matching, close-cropped beard. But the eyes, sharp and clear and blue, were all Katherine McCoy, nee Vasiliev.

  He had the same sharp features as his daughter, with a long, almost severely straight nose. Viktor was definitely where Chance’s mother had inherited the looks that had her modeling in her younger years.

  Unlike the goons that now stood on either side of Chance, Viktor wore a lightweight panama shirt and khaki pants with loafers, as befitted the weather. It was almost as hot and humid up in New York as it was down in Houston, though Katya was severely chilly inside.

  “You look like your father.”

  “You look like my mother.”

  Viktor chuckled. “Sit, sit,” he urged, waving Chance toward the seat across from him at the table. He was peeling an orange and eyed Chance speculatively.

  Neither of them had met the other, but Chance had no doubt that Viktor had been keeping tabs on the daughter that had left him almost forty years ago. Katherine had mostly been tight-lipped on the topic of her father or any part of her life before she’d married Jackson McCoy. Thus, the man sitting across from him was a mystery to Chance.

  “You want money, no?” Victor said, focusing on his orange. He had a trace of Russian accent in his voice, less than Chance would have thought.

  Chance was surprised, but didn’t let it show. In retrospect, he shouldn’t have been. Of course Viktor Vasiliev would know what was going.

  “Yes, I’ve come to ask for money.”

  Viktor rolled his eyes up to Chance. “A million is a lot, no?”

  “You’ll get it back.”

  Viktor chuckled. “Bold. So much like your father. Did not turn out so well for him, no?”

  Chance felt his jaw tighten. Viktor was watching him closely, waiting to see what buttons he had pushed. Chance gave him nothing.

  “How is my daughter?” The question was asked simply enough, Viktor nonchalantly returning his attention to his orange slices.

  “Upset about her son having been shot,” he replied tersely.

  Viktor brought a slice up to his mouth and chewed, consider
ing Chance as he did. “You think I have that kind of money?”

  Chance just gave him a look that said he wasn’t stupid.

  Viktor chuckled again. “And what do you think would happen should I give you this money. You want me to start a war with Peter Antonov?”

  “Are you scared of him?”

  “Don’t be smart,” Viktor said quick as a whip. “Agreements were made. Katya,” there was the slightest hitch in his voice as he said his daughter’s nickname, “left. She knows the rules.”

  “I’m not my mother.”

  “You are a McCoy.”

  “I’m just as much a Vasiliev. So is Chip.”

  “Now that it is convenient for you to be.” Like his daughter, Viktor’s accent became more pronounced when he was heated. “You come here and want money. You want me to start more trouble, this time worse than before.”

  “There is no trouble, it’s just a game.”

  “Don’t be stupid. Or has it not occurred to you that Peter and Leo both want you dead?”

  “The thought had crossed my mind,” Chance said dryly.

  Viktor stared at him, placing another orange slice in his mouth as he contemplated Chance’s response. “And you are still going to play?”

  Chance thought about it for a moment before responding. He supposed his grandfather had a right to know the whole story, especially if he was going to be forking over a cool million.

  “I have a plan.”

  Viktor finished eating his orange, not taking his eyes off his grandson. “So tell me.”

  Chance told him.

  When he finished, Viktor laughed. “And you think this plan will work?”

  “Better than being a sitting duck.”

  Viktor laughed even harder. “And you think this will not make you one?”

  “Only until the problem solves itself.”

  “You’re counting on a lot of things to happen. The first being me giving you the money.”

  “I’ve had help from someone who’s a bit of an expert at variables.”

  “The girl?”

  Chance gave him a quick, hard glance, which made Viktor laugh again. “I know more about you than you think.”

  Viktor sighed. “It is a shame that she had to be involved. It is a shame that you and…Chip—” he said the name in a way that hinted of disapproval. He obviously didn’t approve of his father’s sense of humor “—had to be involved. But I cannot be involved. I am an old man. I want to live my life, what little there is of it, in peace. A war is no good for anyone. Keep it in Houston, I say.”

  Chance felt that tiny sliver of hope inside him die. “So that is a no?” he asked, just for confirmation.

  “That is a no.”

  Chance nodded, exhaling as his mind raced with where to go from here.

  “From me.”

  His eyes darted back up to Viktor’s.

  “You are a McCoy, but you have Vasiliev blood in you, and Vasiliev blood has been spilt. That deserves attention.”

  Chance waited, not daring to take a breath.

  “There is someone who will give you the money. It means another… variable, as you say?” Viktor gave him a smile that was almost pitying. “I hope your little statistics professor can make this one work.”

  28

  The vodka was working a bit too well. Thankfully, Chance made his reappearance before Irina could offer her another shot.

  Juliet watched him closely, searching for answers. Chance kept his poker face on, which was a good thing since Juliet wasn’t the only one concentrating on him. Irina’s eyes scanned his body up and down, coming to rest appreciatively on his face.

  Watch it there, girly girl, he’s taken.

  Chance gave Irina the briefest glance before focusing on Juliet. “Let’s go,” was all he said.

  Juliet didn’t argue. She popped up off her stool, stumbling a bit before Chance deftly caught her to guide her out of the restaurant.

  Once they were through the front door, the questions bubbling inside her head came streaming out of her mouth.

  “How was it? Is he going to give you the money? Irina said something about a war? What does that mean? Did he say anything about—?”

  “Later,” he said, softly, casting his eyes around them.

  This made Juliet look around with paranoid glances. Were they being followed?

  He walked them both in silence until they were at the boardwalk then he filled her in on everything. When he was done, she could feel him reading her.

  Juliet looked out to the water to process this new development. Viktor was right; it definitely changed things.

  “It works,” she said finally, turning to face him. “In fact, this could be better.”

  Chance nodded as though she was confirming what he already thought.

  “So there will be a war.” It was half a question, half a statement of fact. She looked back at the water as she waited for his answer.

  “Looks that way.”

  “What will happen to you?”

  “I’m more concerned about you.”

  “Chance,” she sighed.

  “Juliet,” he said, bringing his hand around to take her chin and turn it to face him. “Don’t worry about me. This is the only thing that will keep both me and you safe. We have to do this.”

  “I know,” she said.

  He brought her in to hug her and she squeezed tight.

  “Let’s get back to the hotel,” he said.

  This time they were slower and more emotional, eyes and hands wandering over every part of each other as if discovering one another for the first time.

  “Chance,” Juliet breathed as he planted soft kisses on her neck.

  “Don’t think,” he murmured against her throat.

  She tried to tune out everything in her head. The hand that slid up her side to cup one breast as she lay on the bed helped.

  She brought his face up to look at hers. She wanted to say so much, but kissed him instead.

  He slid on top of her, then inside of her. Juliet arched her body up to meet his so every part of her was pressed against him.

  They rocked in rhythm with one another until each came in unison.

  Chance rolled over on his back and Juliet curled into him, never wanting to let him go.

  The next morning they lingered in bed. Their flight didn’t leave for a few hours.

  “You’ve been pretty quiet there,” Chance said, stroking her back as she rested her head on that familiar place between his arm and his chest.

  She had been quiet, barely saying more than a few words since last night. She was too stuck in her head.

  Every detail they had poured over in anticipation of the upcoming game was being run through a million different scenarios in her head.

  “Stop,” Chance said, as though reading her mind.

  “I can’t,” She said, not daring to look at him. As absurd as it seemed at the moment, she would have given anything for a stack of origami paper to work on right now.

  “Hey,” he said, nudging his shoulder to jostle her so that she turned to look up at him. He nodded toward her forehead. “Tell me what’s going up there.”

  “You know what’s going on up there.”

  “Listen, I was never one to rely on luck in this game, but I have a feeling I’m going to need all I can get. So please don’t jinx it with those little trails in your brain all leading to bad outcomes. Focus on the one that has this crazy plan working.”

  She stared at him trying to figure out how to respond. He was being deliberately lighthearted about it, mostly for her sake she knew.

  She owed it to him to do the same. But first she had to get the few nagging issues in her head out.

  “Your eyes,” she said. “You have to find a way to control them.”

  “I will,” he said.

  “Don’t give me platitudes, Chance. I’m serious. This game isn’t going to be like your usual games. There’s too much at stake. You want these men dead a
nd they feel the same way about you.”

  He just stared at her, acknowledging the truth of that statement.

  She brought her hand up to touch his face. “When you feel your emotions coming, think of me. Think of me in the butterfly center. Think of me in the museum. Think of me right now. That’s when your eyes are the calmest. Don’t give anything away, Chance.”

  He brought his hand up against her cheek. “I’m not giving anything away, Juliet. Especially not you.”

  “Okay then,” She said placing her hand on his chest and looking him dead in the eye. “Tell me you’ll come back. If you say it, I’ll believe it. I’ll know it’s true.”

  Chance’s eyes were clear as ever as he looked up at her. “Juliet, I’m coming back to you.”

  29

  “Katherine, my dear,” Jacob said, taking her hand and kissing the top of it. “Gorgeous as ever.”

  “Don’t even try it you dirty old fool,” Katherine said, giving Jacob a cool smile. He just laughed good-naturedly in response.

  They were meeting at the Backstreet Cafe for a late breakfast meeting. Jacob turned to Chance, his eyebrows raised in appreciation as he saw Juliet by his side.

  “And who is this lovely creature?”

  “Juliet,” Chance said. “She’s…,” he turned to look at her with a strained expression. “She’s a part of this as well.”

  “Ah,” Jacob said, nodding in understanding. “Collateral damage is one of the downsides of our world. That’s why I, myself have never married. Fortunately, it leaves me available for all the lovely women out there.”

  Katherine gave a sarcastic snort at that.

  “They’re both here because they both have a right to know everything that is going on.”

  Jacob shrugged, nodding his head in understanding.

  As they took their seats, Chance looked over at Juliet who had been quiet all morning. Her body language spoke volumes: the way she didn’t immediately respond to his touch; the way she ever so subtly pulled away from him to take her seat; the eyes that were focused on the ground in thought; the firm set to her lips.