Page 50 of Royal Flush

Her lower lip was quivering almost as much as her body. She shook her head, slowly lifting her other hand and pressing the tips of her fingers against the area on my shirt splattered with blood. “No, but you are.”

“Not my blood.”

“You risked your life to save me.”

“Did you really think I’d do otherwise?”

At least my comment garnered a slight smile. “No.”

I took her hand, leading her to the couch. She was stiff, remaining on the edge, now holding the drink in two hands.

“Did you recognize any of those men?”

She shook her head. Instead of her usual attitude when retorting, it seemed all the fire had been ripped from her. “I haven’t been to America since I graduated college a few years ago. Besides, they were pretty nondescript.”

She’d volunteered something personal about herself. Perhaps we were getting somewhere.

“But you’re here with your parents now.” I was doing my best to encourage her to open up about her real identity.

“Yes.”

“But not a vacation.”

The way she searched my eyes indicated she knew I was bluffing with my knowledge. “Let’s not play games, Braxton. You obviously know exactly who I am.”

“I would prefer if you’d tell me.”

Her hand continued to shake as she took a sip then a gulp. She closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths. “My name is Jasmine just as I admitted to, and my father is the new Australian ambassador to the United States. I’m here because I adore this country, having gone to college here. Not just as I have a crazy obligation to my father and his position. Since I have no doubt you researched my family, you probably have a pretty good idea he’s using this year as a steppingstone to something bigger and better.”

“I do.” There was no reason to lie to her.

“Yeah, well, my father isn’t the man the American television likely portrays him to be. At least not for the most part.”

“While I suspect you could be wrong, for the most part news out of Australia doesn’t reach those in the United States. Unless, of course, we’re talking about a soccer match. Americans have far too many options, and are embroiled in very busy lives with jobs, kids, and extracurricular activities to pay but so much attention to what goes on in other parts of the world.”

Her half smile was an improvement. “Fair enough. We’ll say my father has sparred with almost everyone who’s anyone at home. He’s made more enemies than he has friends, but I know other politicians are afraid of him because he’s influential.”

“Afraid or determined to bring him down?”

She raked her hand through her hair. “I suspect a little of both. People hate what he has to say and what he stands for. Plus, he’s a brutal believer in an eye for an eye kind of punishment for criminals.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “Yet you’re a card shark.”

“I’ve always pushed boundaries. Maybe it’s the classic case of trying to get attention. For the most part my father doesn’t have time for me. Unless he wants to parade me in front of his single friends or in front of a reporter. The dutiful daughter who adores her dad.” She pumped her fist as if fighting a cause.

“I’m sorry you’ve lived such a horrible life.”

“Don’t patronize me. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know I have a hefty trust fund given both my parents come from money. I’ve lived in the lap of luxury most of my life and I was sent to the finest schools. Yep, some would consider me a spoiled brat, but I assure you that looks can be deceiving. And what goes on behind closed doors can be… debilitating.”

“Did your father tell you he had a particular enemy?”

“Not recently, but I’ve made it a point to try and stay away from my father. I plan on continuing to do so while I’m here. I just haven’t had time to regroup yet.”

“What does that mean?” I asked as I sat back in the seat. Her perfume was far too delicious, coming close to preventing me from concentrating.

“It means I have no intention of playing the dutiful daughter being paraded around much longer. I’m going to get a job in the States, a bank account, and an apartment. Dad won’t like it but tough. I’m twenty-seven and deserve to live my life. I do have enough respect to handle a couple official duties, like coming to the charity event, but it’s past time to cut all ties.”

Just hearing her spout off her age forced me to realize how much older I was than the scrumptious girl. “Have you told your parents this yet?”

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