Page 64 of The Sinner and the Gunslinger
I face Andrei with a sly look. “You seem like a whiskey kind of man. Am I right?”
He darts a nervous glance at Petrov. Probably has other tastes. I stroke my bullwhip as I wait for his reply.
Zeke drawls, “The correct answer is yes, my friend. Tonight you drink whatever she pours.”
“Whiskey is good,” Andrei answers, his curiosity in me renewed.
“And your friend?” I barely glance at Petrov. I’ll also dismiss every other man in this room except for our antiquities collector. Mind games are what I do best in this role. Soon, those who don’t have my attention will beg for it, and those that do will preen.
Before I leave, Andrei says to me, “He tells me you’re here for one thing. So long as you leave my city tomorrow, you have my word that you’re safe.”
I glance at him from beneath my lashes. “Duly noted.”
He chuckles as I walk to the kitchen. Before I’m out of earshot, I catch him mumbling to Zeke, “Now I understand why you’ve been gone for so long,sifon.”
While introductions are made at the table, I quickly pour whiskey into empty glasses, adding a dash of poison from my ring to each for good measure. I pile them all onto a tray and bring the bottle to share with Zeke.
As I approach the now seated group, his eyes crinkle, but I see the strain in them already. Whatever they were discussing, he’s not happy with. I move to stand between Zeke and our target, then place the tray on the poker green. Ludovic’s eyes go straight to the red thong at my hip. Zeke hooks his hand around my waist and drags me to his side. I stroke his hair as he introduces me.
I let my eyes gloss over the sheikh, the Southerner, and the businessman, but when I land on the antiquities dealer, Ludovic, I boldly hold his stare until he glances away. Good. Submitting already. As a reward, I deposit a glass of whiskey before him with a wink.
Petrov tries to take another from the tray, but I swat his hand and glare until he uses his manners. Each of the others must offer similar respect before I allow them a glass. To Zeke, I lick the bottle’s rim suggestively.
His eyes heat, and he slides his hand along my thigh. “You’re making me thirsty, babe.”
“Quite the opposite, darling.” I press the bottle to his lips and order him to drink.
The sudden notion that I’m actually having fun hits me like a ton of bricks, along with a sense of foreboding. Every Sinner knows fun never lasts.
The game commences with a conservative round. Everyone is wary of each other. Bets are light. Poker faces are grim. I top up the whiskey glasses using the bottle in my hand, getting a replacement when it drains dry. By the third round, the men are all suitably slurring and have no idea it’s the additive I put in their two drinks each.
Time for the second act of my show.
“You’re all so boring.” I yawn, stretch until my breasts almost pop from the corset, then toy with one of Zeke’s money chips. “Does no one talk at these things?”
“Talking means it’s easier to reveal a tell. You find it boring?” Zeke hands his cards to me. “You play.” Then he stretches back and puts his hands behind his head. “I’ll watch.”
He’s not looking at the table but at me as he gestures to the chips. “Have some fun, kitty cat.”
“But I don’t want to lose your money.” I nudge his stack of chips.
“I don’t care about the money.” He pinches me on the ass and waggles his brows. “You can punish me later.”
I laugh despite myself but decide to do as he suggests. It’s a good segue into the next part of my plan. My patent leather creaks as I sit on his lap and face the table with a broad smile. Andrei doesn’t care. He’s happy for me to lose money. The Southerner is wary, and the businessman is impatient. Ludovic still drools over me, but no one is talking. The poison makes them all feel a little too drunk, and as Zeke said, no one wants to reveal their weakness.
“Another drink, pet.” I click my fingers and wiggle my ass. Zeke groans as I rub against his groin and then reaches around me to feed me a sip from the bottle. After he settles back in place, I ask the table, “Now, who can tell me how many cards we all get? Do I have enough?”
“You have all you need,” Zeke murmurs hotly against my ear. “Just place your bet.”
“I’d rather bet on more interesting things.”
Andrei burps, then says, “No. Money is what we use.”
“Like what?” the sheikh asks, his interest piqued.
“Like you?” Ludovic’s drunk eyes are full of gross intentions. His gaze dips to my chest.
Zeke tenses behind me.
