High Stakes Seduction - Book 3

by LeCoeur, Ami

  "Good,” she said with a bright smile and a wink. “I'd hate to see you waste such a good looking hunk of man. Go get him, princess.”

  When had Maria become my personal cheerleader?

  Chapter Four

  Twenty minutes later, I was at the boutique where Antonio had picked out the dress for our dinner with the captain. Goodness, that seemed ages ago! I glanced over at the couch where he’d so sensuously placed the gorgeous slippers onto my feet. An involuntary tensing of my leg reminded me of the electricity that had run up from his fingers at his gentle touch.

  "Anything I can help you with, Miss?" asked the clerk. "Another evening gown perhaps?" It was the same clerk who’d been there that afternoon.

  "Not this time," I said, trying not to sound as nervous or naïve as I felt. I glanced at the lingerie rack.

  "Ah," she said with a twinkle in her hazel eyes. "Something for a little later in the evening. Do you have a preference? Or might I offer you some recommendations I think would suit your figure and skin tone?"

  In some ways I would have much rather done this on my own, but something about the woman reminded me of my friend Nevia from the store. Nevia was an excellent clerk who'd done a wonderful job of picking out "barely there" underwear for me. Thinking of my friend made me lose some of my self-consciousness. "I’d like something lacy in purple," I said, willing myself to be confident in my decision. "Perhaps something reminiscent of that burlesque show performed on the ship?"

  "I have something I think you'll like," the clerk replied, heading into the small room behind the register.

  ***

  Back in the suite, I took apart the skillfully wrapped package and held up the delicate collection of ribbons and sheer satin. I glanced at the clock. It was still early. Antonio was probably immersed in his "meeting" and would be busy for a while.

  I was so excited I couldn’t help myself. I undressed quickly and slipped on the teeny tiny panties. I let the soft fabric of the top glide over my skin, luxuriating in the sensual feel as I tied the violet ribbons that barely held the pieces together across my stomach and breasts. Then I carefully rolled on silky stockings, running my hands up my calves and thighs before attaching the garter straps to the lacy tops of the stockings.

  I stood to admire myself in the corner mirror, piling my long, amber curls on top of my head and twisting from side to side to get the full view.

  If I couldn't get Antonio to fall all over himself when he saw me in this…

  I smiled at myself in the mirror, my breasts aching at the mere thought of Antonio. I imagined his fingers running over my firm nipples, barely hidden beneath the translucent material. I sucked in my breath as I imagined him tracing an electric finger along the bare skin of my stomach, inching his way slowly down to my panties and the warm, wet treasure that awaited him there. Then he would tug at the ribbons, first with his fingers, and then with his teeth as he—

  My warm, wet fantasy was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the door to our suite opening. I hadn’t expected Antonio back so early, but did that matter? I took a deep breath to calm myself. He had surprised me, yes, but that shock had not reduced the gentle throbbing between my thighs that was demanding attention. I centered my resolve and reached for the door, ready to invite him in to help me deal with those demands. Then I heard a deep voice.

  It wasn’t Antonio’s.

  "He needs to go," said the voice. "He’s seriously getting in the way and I'm tired of covering for him. We need to take him out of the picture."

  My breath caught in my throat. Who the hell was in our suite? I looked around frantically, suddenly very conscious of my near nudity and feeling as though I’d been caught in some petty crime.

  "He’s not playing ball, Mancini," said another voice, this one slightly higher and a bit whiny. "He needs to be reminded that we’re the ones who got him this far."

  "Stephens has not made any claims against you." I recognized Antonio’s voice and breathed a small sigh of relief. At least I wasn’t alone in my suite with a couple of strange men who didn't belong here. Not that I understood why they were here now, with or without Antonio. What was he up to?

  And who were they referring to? Was this Stephens our District Attorney, Brad Stephens? Why would they be talking about the DA? About our DA?

  "Maybe not yet. But he certainly hasn’t done anything he was put in there to do, has he?" demanded the whiny voice.

  "I think his being in office is interfering with our plans," said the first man. "He has to go."

  "And how do you plan to take care of that?" Antonio said. "It’s unlikely he’ll be voted out of office in the coming election at this rate. Unless you’re planning to tie him to one of your less desirable businesses."

  "No," snapped the whiny voice. "I don’t want his name anywhere near my business. It's bad enough he's on the Board of South Side Children's Academy. I don't trust him to keep his mouth shut about anything, and I certainly don’t plan to let him take any of us down with him. When he goes down, it’s him alone."

  "You won't be able to use the Academy's funds for your pet project, you know," Antonio said.

  "You don’t think we know that? That’s why we need Carmiante’s people. They have enough political sway to tip the scales."

  I still had no idea what was going on, but I understood enough to decide that my original assessment of Carmiante in the meeting Antonio had invited me to had been right. I didn’t trust the man and now it seemed my instincts had been right on the money.

  I kept my ear pressed against the door, but thankfully, Antonio escorted the men out a few moments later. I stood frozen there for at least a minute longer until I was absolutely certain they were all gone. I reached a trembling hand for the door handle once more, then stopped, looking down at my skimpy attire. Maybe I should get dressed first, I thought.

  I toyed with the ribbon at my breast, pulling it slowly and feeling the smooth fabric fall open. In spite of the implications of what I’d just heard, I found myself suddenly wishing that Antonio would come back. And soon.

  Chapter Five

  What have I gotten myself into? I wondered as I made my way aimlessly through the halls. I was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt now, a little disappointed that I’d had to take off the sexy lingerie, but glad to be out of the room in case Antonio came back with those men. My mind was a mile away when I heard my name being called, apparently for a second time.

  "Oh!" I said, stopping to greet the author I’d met at his seminar a few days earlier. "I’m so sorry."

  "It’s all right," Thomas Markus smiled broadly, apparently very happy to see me. "I hope your thoughts were pleasant ones."

  I returned his smile, praying it didn’t look as fake as it felt. "What are you up to this afternoon?" I asked, avoiding entirely the subject of my racy, but not so pleasant thoughts—and the man who inspired them.

  "I was just about to go ashore for a quick visit. Would you care to join me?" He offered me his arm.

  "Um, all right. But let’s stay close to the ship, if you don’t mind? I had a little incident at one of our last stops."

  He raised his eyebrows at that. "Incident? Now that sounds like a story worth hearing. Why don't we get a drink and you can tell me about it."

  I liked this man. He was easy to talk to, and he didn't scare me the way Antonio and his "friends" did.

  Disembarking is always so much easier than coming back onboard, and it didn't take us long to find a quaint little "local" bar in Scarborough. We each ordered the most exotic drink we could think of, chuckling at the tall glasses and tiny umbrellas decorating them, but enjoying the coconut and rum that seemed so prevalent here in the islands.

  "Now, you have a refreshment in hand. So tell me about your "incident". Nothing unpleasant I hope? You seem to be in pretty good shape, so I don't suppose it was anything permanent?" He leaned back in his chair, enjoying the gentle fan overhead as it cooled the tiny bar.

  God, where should I start? "Well,
I took a small tour bus down to the drive-in volcano on St. Lucia."

  "Small, as in private?"

  "Yes, there were six of us—including our charming driver."

  "Sounds good so far.

  "Oh, it was great—volcano, waterfalls, mud baths, the Pitons, but they didn't mention the rockslide in the brochure."

  His eyebrows shot up again as I took a deep sip of my delicious drink. Mango, lime and some other flavor competed with the coconut. Delish!

  "Were you hurt?"

  "Oh no. I mean the bus went off the road but we were just jostled around—some minor bruises, about what you'd expect with a fall. Unfortunately, there was no cell service so we were stranded for a couple of hours. Long enough to learn a couple of local songs, finish a bottle of rum, and miss the ship."

  He laughed. "You seem to have a sense of humor about it, anyway. How'd you get back to the ship? I mean, obviously you're here now."

  "The tour company put us up overnight and flew us to Trinidad. But honestly, as nice as the hotel was, not to mention my tour companions, I’m not anxious to go through that again. Especially not alone."

  "My dear, you are far too charming to spend any time alone on this trip. Just say the word, and I’ll be your companion if you want to go on another excursion."

  I'm sure I blushed. This man was very sweet. Why didn't Antonio say things like that? Well, he might have said something similar, but he wasn't exactly reliable at following through.

  "Have you been enjoying the sights?" Thomas asked, pointing at my camera.

  "I have," I said, switching it on. I leaned in to show him the photos still in the gallery.

  "You have a good eye for balance," he said, admiring some of the shots I’d taken in St. Lucia. "Is this the waterfall?"

  We fell into an easy chatter about our mutual love for art. The hour flew by so quickly, I was really glad I'd taken him up on the offer. But soon enough, we had to be back on the ship.

  As we made our way towards the dock, Thomas suggested I capture some of the quaint shops in the city, explaining that the perspective of the tiny streets would be a good exercise for Maria and her painting, maybe even encouraging her to experiment a little more.

  He was right, of course, and I found myself swallowed up in the charm of this part of the city with its small outdoor cafes. I captured several 'touristy' shots of people drinking and dining at tiny tables in an alley. Then I turned my attention to gathering longer views of the streets, including some creative perspective shots I thought Maria might like. I was particularly proud of one that managed to catch long banner-like flags flowing from the front of a restaurant.

  "See," Thomas grinned approvingly as he looked over my shoulder at the images. "You're a good student. Your sister will appreciate these, trust me."

  He was right again, of course. Now I was glad I'd ventured off the ship, especially in the company of this charming man.

  Chapter Six

  Back onboard ship, Thomas walked me to the elevator. When it opened, I was surprised to find Antonio there. I noticed his eyes darkened when Thomas took my hand and raised it to his lips for a kiss.

  "Thank you for an enchanting afternoon, Angela," he said cheerfully, oblivious of the tension suddenly rising between Antonio and me.

  "We’ll definitely have to do it again," I said, giving him my most dazzling smile as the elevator closed before me.

  ***

  "A friend of yours, obviously. I’m glad you’re making acquaintances and having a good time," Antonio said evenly.

  I tried to gauge his tone, but as usual, he was unreadable, so I just accepted the comment at face value. "It’s nice to have the company." Okay, maybe that came out a little more snarky than I intended.

  If he noticed, he didn’t rise to the comment. Instead, he just smiled and said, "Well, I hope you won’t mind my company for the rest of the evening?"

  Ha! As if…

  His arm tightened as he stopped for a moment. Before I could say anything, his lips brushed across my brow. I found his eyes then and gazed silently into them for a long moment. The expression on his face was soft, vulnerable. This wasn’t the businessman in control, or the appraising fashion mogul. There was no charming glint that promised mischief. Nor was there the smoldering darkness that sent my thoughts running to all sorts of naughty places.

  This was the man who’d let me in for just a moment as we gazed over a moonlit ocean one night that seemed now to be ages ago.

  "Stay with me tonight?" he said softly, almost tentatively.

  "Of course," The moment was too perfect and I didn't want to lose it.

  He smiled. "Good. Maybe you can be my lucky charm."

  I frowned, not understanding. "Your what?" That’s when I looked around and realized where we were. "You’re going to the casino?" I asked, even though the answer was right there, staring at me from the end of the hall.

  "Just for a little while," he sighed, patting my hand. "I know I've been busy most nights and it must frustrate you. Perhaps, if you spent a little time with me here, you’d find it interesting. Or at least entertaining. Tonight, I'd like to have you with me.

  What could I say? I had little interest in gambling. And as a result, I knew next to nothing about it—except that it had helped to destroy Dad, and had ultimately brought me to Antonio. I just didn't understand this highly successful man's fascination with something that was stacked against him. Was that it? The challenge of trying to beat the odds?

  I wracked my brain for some kind of excuse, but before I found one, he started maneuvering us toward the door. I teetered somewhere between bewilderment and anger—I guess "puzzled" was as good a description as any. We stepped inside and headed for the table in the corner where I’d first seen him playing poker.

  "Tony!" said the cheerful gentleman I’d met the last time. "Back to challenge the Poker Gods? And this time with your gorgeous lady friend. Just make sure you don’t lose her again, okay?"

  Lose me? Again? As the men at the table laughed at the joke, I realized they must know about my getting left behind in St. Lucia. I tried to laugh along with them as Antonio pulled out a chair for me, but I was still pretty upset with being rushed to the tables.

  "Would you like a drink?" he asked, signaling the waiter over as the dealer deftly tossed cards his way.

  Normally, I wasn't in the habit of using alcohol to cover up my emotions or drown my sorrows, but a drink definitely seemed what I needed right now to calm myself down. At least it would give me something to focus on as I sorted my thoughts.

  My cold white wine arrived, and I twirled the glass in my fingers, sipping slowly. Antonio’s hand brushed against my knee. He looked up and smiled, resting his hand there temporarily before he turned back to his cards.

  I enjoyed his touch. It set off sparks that traveled to my intimate core, as always. But as we sat there, his focus shifted, slowly, more and more toward the table and the game. I was still too dismayed to follow the banter among the players, or to fully understand their conversation. But I did notice the almost clique-like quality of the men, and that I was largely excluded.

  "I’m going to get another drink," I said.

  Antonio looked up then, as though I’d just appeared out of the air like magic. "I can call the waiter."

  "No thanks," I said. "I want to stretch my legs."

  Chapter Seven

  At the bar, I considered ordering something a little stiffer than wine, then stopped myself. I was angry at Antonio about this—about this addiction. But what was the point of dealing with my anger by getting drunk? Then I'd be using the same crutch as my dad. Heaven knows that never helped anything.

  So I ordered another glass of wine and turned to watch Tony at the table. He didn’t even look to see where I was. Where I'd been hopeful, and even a bit connected earlier, now I was feeling sorry for myself.

  "Hello again," said Thomas Markus, taking a seat beside me. "It’s not as difficult as it looks."

  "What's
that?"

  He nodded toward Antonio’s table. "Poker. You ever played?"

  "No. I'm afraid I’ve never played anything more complex than Crazy Eights."

  Thomas chuckled. "Well at least you have a sort of basis and I won't have to explain everything. Would you like to know more?"

  Hm, did I? Not particularly. But then again, it might help me understand Antonio better or at least give us something to talk about. "Sure. Why not."

  "OK. I'm guessing you already understand that, like any card game, the objective of poker is to win the game. But unlike other games, like Crazy Eights," he gave me a wink, "in poker the winner doesn't get points. He gets the money in the pot at the end of each "hand". In order to play, each player wagers money—that is, he makes a bet using those colored chips—that he's been dealt the best combination of the cards for that hand."

  Okay, that made sense so far. It wasn't so different from Crazy Eights, except it had money involved.

  "Sounds like there's a lot of luck in winning a hand."

  He laughed. "Well, in some ways. But there are strategies also. Depending on which of the types of poker games you play. Some have a set number of cards, some get extra cards as the game progresses. So then, the odds change when cards are added to the hands. Some games even include wildcards. Usually it's the top five cards that count towards the winning hand."

  "That seems like a lot to keep track of."

  "At first, yes. But these guys have probably been playing for years, and by now most of it is second nature to them. And, regardless of the variation, the winning hands always rank in the same order, so you only have to learn that once."

  I took a sip of the wine and leaned back against the bar, my eyes wandering over the other tables. "There are other games here, too? It isn't all poker?"

  "Sure, some people really like Black Jack or 21. Sometimes you can find Pai Gow or Baccarat, but onboard here, there's just the poker and 21."