Dealing Her Final Card Read Free

pushed open the door.
    The private room for the villa residents had a cavernous ceiling and no windows. The walls were soundproofed with thick red fabric that swooped from a center point on the ceiling. The effect made the room glamorous and cozy and claustrophobic all at once. To Bree, it felt like entering the tent of a sheikh’s harem. But as she approached the wealthy men who were playing at the single large table, if there was a stab of fear down her spine, she didn’t feel it.
    She’d succeeded. She’d turned off her heart.
    There were no women players. The only females in the room stood in a circle behind the men, smiling with hawkish red lips, wearing low-cut, tight silk gowns. At the table, she saw the dealer, Chris—what was his last name?—whose eyes widened with surprise when he saw her.
    The four players at the table were Greg Hudson and three owners she recognized: a Belgian land developer, a long-mustached oil man from Texas and a short, bald tycoon from Silicon Valley. But where was the arrogant stranger Josie had mentioned? Had he already quit the game?
    Whatever. It was time to play.
    In her black leather jacket and jeans, Bree pushed through the venomous, overdressed women. Without a word, she sat down at one of the two empty seats at the table around the dealer, beside Greg Hudson.
    “Deal me in,” she said coolly.
    The men blinked, staring at her in shock that was almost comical. One of the men snorted a laugh. Another frowned. “Another cocktail waitress?” one scoffed.
    “Actually,” Bree said with a grin, “I’m with the housekeeping staff, and so was my sister.”
    The men glanced at each other uncertainly.
    “Well, well. Bree Dalton.” Greg Hudson licked his lips, looking at her with beady eyes in his florid, sweaty face. “So. Did you bring the hundred thousand dollars your sister owes me?”
    “You know we don’t have that kind of money.”
    “Then I’ll send my men to take it out of her hide.”
    Bree’s knees shook beneath the table, but she did not feel fear. Her body might feel whatever it liked, but she’d disconnected it from her heart. Crossing her legs, she leaned back in her chair. “I will play for her debt.”
    “You!” He snorted. “What will you wager? This game has a five-thousand-dollar buy-in. You could scrub the bathrooms of the entire Hale Ka’nani Resort for years and not have that kind of money.”
    “I offer a trade.”
    “You have nothing of value.”
    “I have myself.”
    Her boss stared at her, then licked his lips. “You mean—”
    “Yes. I mean you could have me in bed.” She looked at him steadily, feeling nothing. Her skin felt cold, her heart as frozen as the blue iceberg that sank the Titanic. “You wanted me, Mr. Hudson. Here I am.”
    There was a low whistle, an intake of breath around the room.
    Bree slowly gazed around the table. She had everyone’s complete attention. Without flinching, she let her gaze taunt each man in turn, all of them larger, older and more powerful than she could ever be. “Who will take the gamble?”
    “Well now.” Looking her over, the Texas oil baron thoughtfully tilted back his cowboy hat. “This game just got a lot more interesting.”
    In the corner of her eye, she saw a dark, hulking shadow come around the table. A man sat down in the empty chair on the other side of the dealer, and Bree instantly turned to him with languid eyes. “Allow me to join your game, and I could be yours....”
    Bree’s voice choked off midsentence as she sucked in her breath.
    She knew those cold blue eyes. The high cheekbones, sharp as a razor blade. The strong jaw that proclaimed ruthless, almost thuggish strength. So powerful, so darkly handsome, so sensual.
    So impossible.
    “No,” she whispered. Not after ten years. Not here. “It can’t be.”
    Vladimir Xendzov’s eyes narrowed with recognition, and then she felt the rush of his sudden searing hatred like fire.
    “Have you met Prince Vladimir?” Greg