Page 90 of The Passion

“Perfect. I don’t want to stand out. They will already be wary because of my wins the other night. There will be talk, I’m sure.”

“More gossip than an old grannie knitting circle.” He winks at me as his hand is on the doorknob, ready to open it.

Taking a deep breath, I clear my mind of everything except what is happening behind that door. Pull the nerves back and push my wall of badass forward for the world to see. All they will see is a confident, sarcastic woman who doesn’t reveal one inch of what she is thinking or feeling in her body language.

“Let’s do it.” I take the step toward the door as Ivan opens it.

Why is it these poker rooms all smell the same, no matter how high the bets are on the table. Stale smoke, strong alcohol, and overpowering men’s cologne mixed with women’s perfume from the scantily clothed women that the owner of the bar provides to serve the men— and occasional women—drinks.

The movement of us entering the room goes mainly unnoticed by the players in the game, who are too busy concentrating on their opponents.

Yet one man who is waiting to the right side of the room for the next game to start looks up at me.

His eyes scan my body from top to toe and back again, looking into my eyes like he is trying to see into my soul. But it’s not in the way of a competitor; instead, it’s purely sexual.

He’s a predator, I can pick them a mile away.

But I can also feel the heat of a stare from the man on my left, Ewan. And there is a fire of rage burning inside of him. He isn’t looking at me, but instead, Ewan is fixated on the predator of a man across the room, who is checking me out. If I was to guess,Ewan is here to clear some rage and direct it at his opponent, and I doubt it has anything to do with the game of poker we are about to start.

My heart is racing again, even faster than it was before, because I wasn’t expecting him to be here.

I recognized him the moment he looked up at me. I suppose we could call tonight a jackpot, having both Ewan Kentwall and Fulton Anderson in the same game, but I’m not sure I would call it that.

This just adds another level of complication, but if anything, if fires me up to make them both pay for the way they have treated Felisha.

Two evil men in one room. Nothing I can’t handle.

I’m a woman, a multitasker. That’s what we do.

Time to start playing my game… oh, and some poker too.

Chapter Twenty

FLYNN

I’m sure there is a track worn on the floor of my apartment, where I have been pacing from the moment I knew that Felisha was seeing her father.

She has kept so much to herself that I don’t even know what she is going there to say. It drives me wild that she isn’t letting me in as much as I want her to, but I do understand. Felisha has been on her own for so long and has never felt she could trust a man in her life. And sadly, she is still finding her way with me.

I hate it, but if I push too hard, she will back away, and then I risk losing her, and I won’t let that happen.

Of course, the traffic tonight is gridlocked in the city, and it’s taking forever for her to get here. Probably would have been quicker for her to walk, but that’s not her style, nor would I want her on the streets at night on her own in this vulnerable state.

Finally, the doorman calls to say she is on her way up, and I stand at the door waiting for her. I’m expecting, like every other time she has arrived here when there has been a traumatizingmoment, that she is about to come through the door and fall into my arms sobbing.

But that is so far from the woman who storms into my apartment.

“The clock is ticking. His days are numbered!” She pushes past me and heads straight to my bar.

I don’t know whether I should talk or just let her do what she needs to do and wait her out.

I watch her take two glasses, pour the scotch, and turn to me holding my glass out for me. Walking toward her in silence, and with the caution of approaching a lion, I take the glass and try to look past the bravado to see how she really feels.

“Here’s to taking my rightful position at Kentwall Estates and cleaning out the trash.” Clinking her glass on mine, she takes the biggest gulp of the amber fluid which I’m sure burns on the way down. But maybe that’s what she needs.

“Cheers to that.” I take a much calmer sip of my drink and watch her shake off the tingle in her throat.

Leaning forward, I kiss the scotch off her lips and then continue to give her space. I can tell she is too keyed up to sit.

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