Playboy Billionaire

by Cherie Mitchell

  "Just me." She took him by surprise when she held out her hand for him to shake, just as a business executive would do. "I'm Arial Jackson."

  "Charmed." Disconcerted by the gesture, he returned her handshake as he tried to work her out. He decided it might make better sense to introduce himself by his first name only. He'd learned long ago that it was often safer that way, at least until he knew how screwy his target was. The jury was still out on this one despite her stunning good looks. "Carson. It's lovely to meet you."

  “Carson. That’s a nice name.” She kicked her foot against the leg of the stool and he noticed she wasn’t wearing any shoes. Oh great, he’d picked a homeless woman. Perhaps he should have paid more attention to what she was saying earlier.

  “Where are your shoes?”

  She giggled then, a musical, uplifting sound that went right to his groin. “A guy stood on my foot while I was waiting at the traffic lights. My heel is still sore so I took them off.”

  “Good idea. It’s always a good idea to remove items of clothing that get in the way.” This was her opening, her chance to say something provocative or flirtatious in return.

  “A shoe isn’t an item of clothing.” She looked doubtful. “Is it?”

  “Well, it’s an item of footwear.” Why the hell were they talking about her shoes?

  “Mmmm.” She picked up her drink and slurped the last of it through the straw, as if it were a milkshake. Didn’t she have any idea of how alcoholic that mix was? Not that he minded, of course. He could imagine her now, loose limbed and giggly as she draped herself seductively across the king-sized bed in the suite.

  “Were you planning to make a night of it?” He could see Darius from here and as soon as the man looked up, he would signal to him to bring some champagne. Another one of those cocktails and she’d be no use to anyone and that definitely wasn’t part of his plan.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea but I don’t have to be anywhere else just yet.” Something flickered across her gaze, a glimmer of concern or perhaps a question, and then it was gone again. She turned back to the machine and wriggled herself into a more comfortable position on her stool before lifting her face innocently to his. She had her guileless gestures down pat and oh, honey they were having the desired effect. "So Carson, are you ready to show me how to play?"

  Chapter Seven

  Arial

  Arial hadn't heard a single word that Carson had just said, although she could recall a wisp of a faintly ridiculous conversation about shoes. He was an extraordinarily magnetic man, almost too good-looking to believe, and oh! those alluring brown eyes. They were the sort of eyes that could draw a woman in and take her hostage. What was wrong with her? She hardly ever allowed herself to get this flustered over a man and after Wyatt and his horrible betrayal, she had sworn she never would again.

  "Can I take that as a yes?"

  The seductiveness of his smile matched the charm in his eyes and Arial felt herself growing hot in places that should be minding their own business. She squirmed on the stool and picked the straw out of her glass to bend it into a concertina shape. "Uh, I'm sorry. I missed what you said."

  "I asked if I could get you another drink." He nodded at the remnants of the potent cocktail and she noticed that the paper umbrella was now askew, much like her thoughts.

  "Uh, no. Thanks, but I don't usually drink during the day." She covered the top of the glass with her hand to reinforce her statement. "I was about to put a few coins in the machine and leave."

  "Don't leave just yet,” he said quickly. “I have a feeling that you might be my lucky charm and my feelings seldom lie. Accompany me to the gaming tables and let's see if my hunch is right." He winked at her, sending another hot flare racing through her belly. "And then let me buy you another drink for your trouble. It’s the least I can do and no one is keeping count in here. Anyway, it’s hard to tell if it’s day or night when you’re inside the DuMonde Casino." He purred the last words as if they were something special.

  It seemed she didn't have much choice. Her body was willing to follow him regardless of whatever her brain was shouting at her. Not that she was in any condition to listen to logic right now. Trembling under the force of Carson's dangerously intense stare, she stooped to pull on her shoes. She knew his eyes were on her butt but she pretended she didn’t notice. She picked up her handbag in one hand and the remains of her cocktail in the other and followed him across to the blackjack table. What are you doing, Arial! This was completely out of character for her and she could only put her foolishness down to the shock of losing her apartment and her job in such a short space of time.

  The man in uniform behind the blackjack table gave Carson a barely perceptible nod as they approached but Arial was too flustered to pay much attention. She fought to keep her expression blank as she battled with her body to resist his blatant sexual magnetism and battled with her mind to take back control. She knew what she should do - she should sit her drink down and march out the door right this minute. She needed to do something before she stepped another foot further into the dilemma that she could already feel lurking, wolf-like, up ahead.

  "Take a seat." Carson politely held another of the burgundy velvet-covered stools out for her, leaning in close as she lowered herself down into it. "A lucky lady in the luckiest seat in the house," he whispered, his breath hot and ticklish against her neck. "It seems I can't lose."

  "Mmmm."

  The drinks waiter appeared out of nowhere and whisked her nearly empty glass away, neatly replacing it with another full glass decorated with one of the ubiquitous umbrellas and two fat, red cherries on a toothpick.

  “Thanks Darius, but we wanted champagne.”

  “Oh no, I’ll have a few tiny sips of this seeing as he went to the trouble to make it.” The drinks waiter was sweet and she didn’t like to think that he’d wasted his time.

  Moving with an innate gracefulness, Carson slid his body into the gap between Arial’s stool and the table. He shifted position and his thigh brushed against her knee. He kept it there and remained pressed against her for just a moment too long. Unable to form a coherent word, Arial picked up her cocktail and slurped far too much of the heavily alcoholic liquid down her throat. Get up now Arial, her sensible self roared inside her head, get up now and get your ass out that door and don't ever look back!

  Carson still hadn’t sat down. Instead, he remained standing courteously at Arial's elbow. The uniformed croupier pushed a pile of tokens toward him and again, Carson bent his head to whisper hotly in Arial's ear. "Keep your fingers crossed and your eye on the prize. I swear I'm doing exactly that and I like what I’m seeing."

  Arial couldn't miss the insinuation in his voice. A sudden blush that began somewhere around her breasts raced up her neck and flooded her face with color. She ducked her head and watched under her lashes as the croupier cut the deck of cards, acutely aware of Carson's nearness to her overheated body. My oh my, this man was trouble with a capital T but strangely enough, the thought of walking into a parcel load of trouble didn’t bother her half as much as it usually did.

  Carson had somehow signaled to Darius again without lifting a finger. The suited waiter silently appeared at his side with a cut glass tumbler of scotch whisky and a gilt-edged coaster on a tray. He sat the coast and the glass down on the wooden edge of the blackjack table, threw Arial a sly look that made her blink in surprise, and silently departed.

  “You have him well trained,” Arial said brightly. “He’s acting like he’s your own personal drinks waiter.”

  “Darius and I go back a long way.” Carson picked up the tumbler and took a sip, although his eyes never left Arial’s face. “Lady’s choice. What’s it to be?” He inclined his head at the cards.

  What? Did he mean that she was supposed to tell the croupier what to do next? She had no idea how to play this game. Blackjack was not something that had ever crossed her path before. It was definitely one of those days. “Uh… I think
I’ll gracefully bow out. I’m more than happy to watch.”

  He chuckled somewhere deep in his chest and she saw that his eyes had turned as black as midnight. “I just bet you are.”

  Chapter Eight

  Carson

  This girl was hot and the fact she seemed utterly unaware of it only made her hotter, even if it was just a clever and well-practiced trick on her behalf. Carson subtly shifted position again, inhaling deeply as he moved close enough to catch her wonderful scent. He made sure to keep his movements subtle so she didn't notice what he was doing. He didn't want her to start thinking he was creeping on her, not unless she gave him some indication that she was into that type of thing. She smelled like summer roses, or spring rain falling on newly mowed grass. She smelled fresh and untouched, although it was impossible for any woman as stunning as Arial Jackson to be as innocent as she was acting right now. She probably had a list of bedmates to rival his own, maybe even more. Quite probably some of both sexes, too. She had teased him that she liked to watch. He felt himself harden.

  "Awww, you lost again. Better luck next time."

  She turned that sweet face up to him again and he had to hold himself back from bending his head and stealing a kiss. He’d spent several minutes imagining her sexy body held tight in his arms, the way those lips would move beneath his, and the way those long, tanned legs... "Pardon?" Damn, he'd been so busy daydreaming that he'd missed what she’d said. Control yourself, Carson. It's not like you to be so trigger happy.

  "I said I probably should go. I have to start packing up my apartment. Thank you for the drinks." She hiccupped softly as she slid off the stool and his eyes widened as her frumpy skirt rode up to reveal a hint of the delights that lay ahead of him. She was more than a little tipsy; he could see that now. Maybe she had been telling the truth when she said she wasn't used to drinking but in his experience, girls who said they weren't used to drinking got the hang of it real quick in the right environment.

  "Hey, no need to rush. I thought we could take the rest of the bottle and retire to my suite." He leaned in to grab the neck of the champagne bottle from the table as the croupier discreetly stepped back and pretended to be busy with his token machine. "A little music and a lot of loving would make a perfect end to the afternoon."

  Darius had done well in keeping the drinks topped up. He’d stopped bringing cocktails after delivering that second one and had substituted the sweet, alcoholic drink for a bottle of the Casino’s best champagne and two crystal flutes. Arial had nibbled on her lip when Carson poured her a glass but she hadn’t said no. He’d discovered years ago that girls very rarely said no for long.

  Carson laid an encouraging and supportive hand on Arial’s elbow, giving the lightest of squeezes to coax her along. “Upsa-daisy. It’s just a quick skip and a hop to the elevators and then into the suite. Everything is easy street from there on in.”

  Her lovely blue eyes instantly hardened to an icy grey. "I think you're getting ahead of yourself," she said primly, the giggles gone and her voice now utterly sober. "I'm not that type of girl and I hate it when men think that I am."

  Interesting. Well, he could play the game this way if that's what she really wanted. "What makes you think I'm that type of guy?" he asked smoothly. "There's nothing wrong with paying a visit to a friend's suite to relax and have some fun. You can stay long enough to watch the stars come up."

  "I have to go," she said again. "I don't visit men's private suites, especially when I hardly know the man issuing the invitation. It’s been fun but this is where the afternoon ends."

  What? She wasn't serious, was she? But she was already walking away. Carson stared after her in astonishment, wondering if this was part of her game. Any minute now, she would do a cute half-turn and throw him a come-fuck-me smile. He set the champagne back down and crossed his arms, waiting for that teasing moment that would mean the stakes had just got higher.

  She didn’t turn around.

  He hurried after her, the champagne forgotten for now. "Wait up. It'll be worth your while, I promise." He allowed his gaze to drop to her full lips to make sure she understood what he meant. She didn’t expect him to beg, did she? Carson DuMonde had never begged a woman to join him in bed. Hell, most other women would be stampeding across the room to the elevators by now.

  She gave him a cross look and continued on her way to the doors.

  He caught up with her and again grabbed her by the elbow. “Arial?”

  She turned a pair of serious eyes upon him. "I don't think you heard me. I said I'm not that type of girl and I meant what I said. Goodbye." She determinedly covered the short distance to the exit doors, her hips swaying under that stupid skirt. The doorman hastily reached for the handle and gave her a professional smile as he swept the door open, but not before his eyes sent Carson a fleeting, questioning look.

  Carson stood in the middle of the extravagant carpeted floor and stared after her. Did she expect him to run after her? Was that what she was doing? She had another think coming if she thought he was going to rush out the door after her and chase her down the street. Didn't she know who he was? No, she doesn’t know who you are, dummy. She spent the afternoon with you without knowing who you are. That would be a first wouldn’t it, buddy? A woman happy to enjoy your company without keeping one eye on the main chance. How rare is that?

  The door whispered shut behind her and the doorman set his face into an expression of cool disinterest, although Carson knew the man was loving every minute of this. He hesitated for a few seconds longer, telling himself he should walk away and find a woman more than willing to say yes to his invitation, but there was something about that girl...

  "Hey, wait!" He was already running for the doors. The surprised doorman jumped to attention and wrenched it open so he could pass through unhindered. "Arial, wait up!"

  Chapter Nine

  Arial

  Uh-uh. Now that she was out in the fresh air, Arial realized just how drunk she was. She should never have allowed Carson to order that bottle of champagne and she should never have swallowed two glasses of the fizzy liquid on top of those two high potency cocktails. It was just that he was so sexy and attentive and she'd enjoyed someone paying her so much attention when she was feeling so low. She stepped back and leaned against the casino building for support. Her vision blurred and then cleared again. Whoa, this was bad. She staggered and steadied herself before fumbling in her bag for her phone. She would call an Uber and go home. After a hot shower and a hot cup of coffee, she might be sober enough to start packing up her apartment.

  "Hey Arial!"

  She looked up in surprise as Carson burst out through the Casino doors. He'd followed her! Why? Didn't he know how to take no for an answer? Oh my, he was handsome but the problem with handsome men was that they thought they could get away with anything.

  He spun around in a full circle and his face brightened when he caught sight of her leaning against the building. He strode over and grinned down at her, those dangerous green eyes of his glinting with a magic of their own. "Why did you go and skip out on me like that? You left me feeling like Prince Charming must have felt when Cinderella left the ball at midnight."

  She giggled. She did like a man who knew his fairy tales. “Shoes again,” she slurred.

  “Huh?”

  “Cinderella lost her shoe. When you met me, my feet were bare and I had lost my shoe. I mean, I hadn’t lost my shoe but it wasn’t on my foot.” Was that how it had happened? Why were there now two of him? Why was she still talking about her shoes? She screwed her eyes shut and opened them again as his face swam in front of her.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” Two firm hands wrapped around her upper arms.

  Her head was spinning. She needed to sit down before she fell down. With Carson’s support, she sunk down onto her haunches and stared blearily at her phone. "I'm going home. I’m a little drunk. I'm calling an Uber now."

  "No." He stooped and placed his hand over h
er phone screen to prevent her from using the app. "If you do insist on leaving now, please let me take you home."

  "Don't be an idiot." She wrenched her phone out from under his hand. "I'm not getting in a car with you. You've been drinking and I won’t risk my life like that." A drunk driver had caused her parents’ car accident and she could not forgive anyone who climbed behind the wheel while inebriated.

  "I'll leave my car here and call a driver. Arial, I don't want you to leave just yet. I was enjoying your company." He made sad, puppy dog eyes at her and she laughed at his expression. The truth was that she was enjoying his company too, although his comment about calling a driver had just managed to sink into her fuzzy brain. "What do you mean, you'll call a driver?"

  “We have several on call.”

  “What? Who are ‘we’?” He wasn’t making any sense and she was sure it wasn’t just because she was drunk.

  He gave her a bashful look before taking a step back to point up at the casino sign on the top of the building. "DuMonde Casino. I'm Carson DuMonde and the Casino Chain belongs to my family. We have cars with drivers all over town."

  "Yeah right. And I really am Cinderella." Of course she didn't believe him. In fact, she was annoyed that he thought he could get away with telling her such a ridiculous lie in the hopes of charming her into his bed. She could see what he wanted from her by the look in his eye but he could want it all he liked. Although she was as drunk as she was, there was no way she was doing that. Not until she was a Mrs. and happily in love with her Mr.

  Again, she attempted to open the Uber app on her phone but somehow she couldn’t get her finger to open the right icon and now her Insta was open instead. “Can’t find my Uber,” she mumbled.