Page 10 of Royal Flush

“Oh, yeah?” she threw out. “What’s that?”

I took my time answering. “You, dear Jane, are a fraud and a thief. I have it all on tape. You’re a very good con artist, I must say, but still, someone I cannot tolerate in my resort. So here’s the thing. I can either have you escorted off the island, police notified of your atrocities or…” I allowed the information to dangle.

She stopped fidgeting, her hate-filled gaze continuing. “Or? Get on with it.”

I lowered my gaze, concentrating on staring into my glass. I was having way too much fun with this and what I was about to propose was highly… irregular but I could do what I wanted. “Or I can handle your discipline in house.”

“Discipline?” She was obviously incensed, gawking at me as if I was an alien. “What the hell does that mean?”

Again, I took my time. “It means, lovely Jane, that I will dole out my own brand of harsh, lengthy punishment as I see fit. Then you will be escorted off the island and no one will be the wiser as to your atrocities. Now, if I had to take a guess, and I’m usually right, your name isn’t Jane Smith, which means you’re either hiding your true identity to avoid scandal or a lost waif with no money of her own, hoping to score big. So, this is your decision entirely. However, the clock is ticking. You will need to decide before my patience runs out completely.”

I took another sip, never allowing my eyes to leave her.

There was something about her including the spark of electricity already existing between us that I wanted more of.

And I was the kind of man to always get what I wanted.

CHAPTER 4

Jasmine

Arrogant men had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember.

Given the family I’d been born into, my father striving to ‘be somebody,’ I’d seen how greed and the thought of power lured men into the worst versions of themselves.

The kind of guy who would do anything to improve his wealth and standing in society, no matter who he had to step on.

My father was also the kind of man to act like I could be one of his greatest commodities, a bargaining tool. I’d laughed at him at first when he’d introduced me to five eligible million-year-old bachelors. The only good thing I’d been able to say was that it was unlikely they could have gotten their dicks hard even if they’d wanted to.

Not a chance in hell. I’d break every law if necessary to carve out my own life. However, this man, this… sinfully gorgeous man had managed, when others had failed, to take my breath away.

Damn him.

Yes, this guy, this… jerk of a person sitting behind his magnificent exotic wood desk, a drink in his hand and a smirk on his face pissed me off more than the usual scumbags who’d dared to paw me as if I would marry them, improving their standing.

The audacity of his suggestion was ridiculous.

But without a doubt, there was some merit to his rather unscrupulous offer. Sure, I enjoyed pushing the envelope, but now that dear old Daddy and Mommy dearest had taken up residence in America, even I knew being prudent in my nefarious actions was in all our best interests. Did this asshole know that, using my disadvantage against me? No, I’d been careful to hide my identity as much as possible.

I doubted anyone in the US had paid but so close attention to the ridiculous strife in Australian politics. Plus, with me going to college in the US, and after my return staying away from the limelight, it would be tough for anyone to put two and two together.

Unless he was a clever bastard.

Sadly, and much to my chagrin, he was even more handsome than when I’d caught a long, heated gaze before. There was something spectacular about a man with his sleeves rolled up, exposing not only remarkable muscles but wildly incredible art likely specifically designed for him. My eyes instantly fell onto a tattoo he sported on one arm, the ink intricate yet simple at the same time. The design accentuated his muscular physique better than any tight pair of jeans could do.

Shit. Here I was pining away for this guy.

Get your mind out of the gutter, girl.

I brushed my hand through my hair, forced to face the fact my father would not only be embarrassed, something he didn’t need, he would also be ridiculed more than he was currently experiencing. I guess I did have some family loyalty after all. A teensy-tiny bit.

But this asshole was too glib and I remained incensed.

So, my usual behavior instantly roared to the surface. My mother had told me more than once in her usual condescending way that my mouth would eventually land me in jail.

And they wouldn’t come bail me out.

“Just who the fuck do you think you are?” I demanded, even taking two long strides closer. Whew. Okay, so the man was gorgeous, albeit from what I could tell with him sitting down, he was dressed like a bad episode of the old eighties show Miami Vice, although with the jacket removed, he appeared almost… normal.

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