Page 76 of Coerced Queen

“Good idea,” Livy says.“Just so we’re all on the same page.”

Benson smiles at her.“The winner gets all the cards used during that hand.We play until there’s no more cards in the deck.The person with the most cards wins.”

“That’s simple enough,” Livy says.

Benson directs his attention at me.“Questions?”

I swallow.“Nope.”

He pushes a new packet of cards toward me.“You can shuffle.”

I break the seal, and then I check that the deck is complete.Happy that everything looks in order, I shuffle the cards.

“Anya.”

I look up, catching Benson staring at me.

“I have a proposition for you,” he says.

Uneasy, I ask, “What kind of proposition?”

“I’d like to raise the stakes.”

Livy kicks the back leg of my chair.

“What’s your offer?”I ask, putting the deck on the table.

“I’m willing to triple the cash if you win.”

My mouth goes dry.That’s a huge amount of money.“What do you get if I lose?”

He leans forward, perusing me with a hawk-like, silver gaze.“After Dark, of course, and a night in your bed.”

Triple the cash is tempting, and we do need the money, but I don’t have to think twice.Lifting my left hand, I wiggle my ring finger.“Sorry, Benson, but that’s out of the question.”

He sits back, looking impressed instead of disappointed.“A brave and adventurous woman, and one with principles too.I admire that.Your husband is a lucky man.”

“Shall we begin?”I ask, my palms clammy with nerves.

“I’ve never been one to make a lady wait,” he says smoothly before pushing the deck toward me.“You deal.I’ll cut.”

My stomach is tied in knots.I’m relatively certain of myself, but there’s always that small chance that something will go wrong and that Saverio will lose everything he’s worked for.

He’s losing it anyway if you do nothing, Anya.Just focus.

For the first two rounds, I let Benson win.Just as a smug look comes over his face, I take the next game.I keep the odds relatively even, the discrepancy not big enough to notice, and in the last few rounds, I tip the scale toward my end until we’re more or less on par.

Benson is sweating by the time we deal the final round.He removed his jacket a long time ago, and he’s on his third scotch.

“Hit,” I say.

He rubs a hand over his beard and curses under his breath.“Stay.”Arching a brow, he asks, “Another hit?”

I shake my head.“I’m done.”

A big smile breaks out over his face as he neatly lays a jack of spades and a queen of hearts on the table.

The two fives and the ace of diamonds I put down wipes that smile clean away.

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