Page 8 of Royal Flush

After forcing myself to turn away, I performed my usual act of disappearing. I couldn’t risk being recognized or caught.

But my pulse remained rapid, a few lurid thoughts overshadowing my need to get away. I could easily change my itinerary so I wouldn’t remain tempted by the man. That was the beauty of having money, and not just the winnings I would claim later.

I grabbed a glass of champagne from a waiter ready to fly by, winking and licking my ruby-stained lips until he smiled. I always got my way with men.

Even after what I’d reminded myself about liquor, the bubbly was exactly what I needed to calm my unusual nerves.

I slipped from the room, closing in on the elevator when I felt a presence behind me. For a few ridiculous seconds, I hoped the mystery man was coming to claim me.

The moment I turned around, I could see I was sorely wrong.

Another man in a cheaper suit stood with a goon the size of a tall statue, his cold eyes locked onto mine.

As soon as I tried to get into the elevator, I was prevented, the huge dude even moving in front of me.

“I beg your pardon. You need to get out my way or I’ll call security.” My words were harsh, but they usually worked. Threats aways helped.

“Not so fast, miss. There’s an issue that needs to be dealt with,” the second guy said. At least he wore a slightly amused look on his face. The other was a stone-cold fish.

“What issue?” I acted as if I was incensed.

The obvious man in charge allowed the sparkle in his eyes to increase tenfold. “The issue of you stealing, which as you know is very against the law.”

Oh, shit. Oh… shit. This was the worst thing that could happen. However, I had to continue playing the highly incensed wealthy guest card. “How dare you,” I snapped, giving him a haughty look. “I am an important guest.”

“We have you on camera. Let’s go, Wally. Bring her with us.”

Wally? The thug’s name was Wally? Why not Bruno or Killer? When the huge dude dared to grab my arm, I jerked it away. “I’m not going anywhere with you. In fact, I want to talk to your boss. No, the owner. I don’t care if he’s vacationing in Italy, I want to talk to him right now so I can make a formal complaint.”

“Then you’re in luck,” the shorter guy said, giving Wally a nod.

“And why is that?”

“We are headed for the executive suites where you can tell one of the owners your sob story. Maybe he’ll be lenient on you. Then again, maybe he won’t. It’s entirely up to you.”

CHAPTER 3

Braxton

Women.

I could have my pick on any given day. Just like with everything else, I’d grown bored with spending time with arm candy over the years.

Which is what made the fact my cock remained rock hard close to ludicrous.

Beauty and substance were often skin deep. Was that harsh?

Yes.

Was it true?

Absolutely.

The elevator was swift and when I walked into my creatively designed office space, I took a deep breath, yanking off my suit jacket and tossing it across the back of the leather couch. It was impossible to keep my mind off the unexpected treat and out of the gutter.

A strange laugh bubbled to the surface and I wiped my jaw as I headed to the bar. I had a feeling tonight was going to be… interesting. After pouring another scotch, I headed to my laptop, sitting down behind my desk. Our security was topnotch, allowing no criminal activity to be missed while not intruding on our guests’ fun or privacy.

After taking a swig, I unfastened my shirt sleeves, rolling them up past my elbows. While I certainly didn’t dress as formally as my guests or my brothers did while maintaining watch over the place, I was a different man. I was the kind of guy who preferred surfing and skiing to dressing like a freaking penguin. But appearances meant everything.

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