Page 7 of Royal Flush

Jasmine

Wow.

The word suited the hot guy across the room. From what I’d been able to tell, he was dressed to kill in an expensive suit, his powerful jaw more like chiseled stone.

Get a grip.

Telling myself that and making it so wasn’t that easy. I managed to take a deep breath, rechaining my wanton libido. I was here in this tropical location to gamble, feed what felt like an addiction, and remain far removed from my oppressive family as long as possible.

I wasn’t here to enter into a crazy, kinky affair.

The resort was entirely different than I’d thought. It wasn’t just a luxurious location designed for men and woman with far too much money on their hands and zero common sense. It turned out the Royal Players Club was full of kinky freaks. Some were even dressed in leather and chains mingling with men in tuxedos and women in long dresses. The odd dichotomy had taken me aback at first.

How many times had I been approached both by well-meaning employees and male guests alike? I also had felt propositioned by a well-to-do older woman who’d had a girl in what appeared to be a diamond collar, leading her around by a studded leash. She’d basically insinuated I’d be an excellent addition to her harem.

Not a snowball’s chance in hell.

Another one of my bestie’s expressions I’d adopted. Right now, they were coming in handy.

Maybe that’s why the sexy man had captured my attention. He seemed relatively normal, certainly a breath of fresh air.

I breathed in and out, imagining I was breathing in the mystery man’s exotic aftershave. I’d experienced a tidal wave of desire, which was so unlike me that I was a little lightheaded.

The inner and often annoying voice inside of me was already nagging and pushing my buttons.

Didn’t you realize you were playing a dangerous game?

What, with palming cards or with my attempt at avoiding men for as long as possible in my life? It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate a sensual alpha male, but I’d been burned by enough in my twenty-seven years to know I had to secure my life before I dared enter into a relationship of any kind.

Men would never be number one. Nope. Not for this girl.

Even my father believed he could marry me off to some wealthy constituent in payment for the man’s support and donations to my father’s campaign.

This was my escape, my method of coping. My former therapist would be happy I’d found an alternative method to drugs or alcohol. Neither were my jam. I’d tried alcohol, drowning my sorrows over the years, but the escape had been temporary.

This had been my riskiest trip of all, most of my adventures little more than overnight. Maybe I was hoping to get caught.

Yes, I enjoyed danger, relished the concept actually. It had been my release from a prison made of parliamentary requirements and concrete and wood. The risks I usually took were small potatoes in comparison to escaping to a private island in the middle of the Caribbean to scandalously take money from unsuspecting men who were too busy trying to figure out a way of getting me to bed.

However, maybe I hadn’t done enough research since obtaining the tip that I could soothe the anger that had been building for months. Most men were surrounded by women or in some cases, scantily clad men no doubt servicing their every subversive need. That didn’t usually offer me the best location for running my con.

Fortunately, I’d found a table where it seemed most men were gambling for a different kind of enjoyment.

I’d been lucky, more successful than usual and my achievement had fueled the bad girl inside of me. It felt as if I’d never be caught, my lilting laugh and the way I could bat my eyelashes creating a magical, hypnotic spell over all my victims. Even though I didn’t like to refer to them that way.

They were willing participants when I cooed and took their money. Hell, they were wealthy. Would they really miss a few thousand dollars a pop? I’d been ready to surrender to more personal needs of a nice, long massage, a sauna treatment with expensive champagne flowing whenever I needed, and a good night’s sleep before waking up in paradise.

Until a powerful electric draw had pulled my gaze all the way across the casino floor.

I was rarely taken by men, especially those who considered themselves powerful or influential. That usually meant they were arrogant pricks, not knights in shining armor. But I’d been drawn by the man’s dark gaze, the heat in his eyes and the intense fire burning deep within. I was honestly surprised I’d been able to breathe at that point or that other women hadn’t been caught in the man’s hungry stare.

I’d seen an inferno that not only fueled him, but that had threatened to consume us both.

I refused to allow that to happen no matter how seductive or charming he was. I’d been there, done that.

There was no doubt what he was thinking from the lust he exuded. He also carried a ‘touch her and die’ vibe, which I found far too attractive.

I’d reminded myself I could admire from afar yet had promised myself I wouldn’t touch. Men were far too complicated and my life didn’t need that at this point. There were already too many issues in my life, including the fact I was a closet thief, addicted to the adrenaline. It wasn’t about money, most of my ‘winnings’ donated to a good cause, but about the thrill of escaping unsinged.

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