Page 133 of Restless Hawke
But this isn’t the time or place to argue about it.
He’s made how he feels very clear, and nothing I can say is going to change his mind, certainly not in the next hour—tops—that we have before the first cards are dealt.
All I can do is nod my understanding, even if I didn’t agree with a single word he said.
He scowls, then shoves a hand through his hair. “Let’s set this plan in motion if we’re going to do this.”
“Please, Coen, trust me. I realize how hollow those words must sound right now, but please.”
His shoulders finally give slightly, and he steps closer until his chest brushes mine. That familiar warmth instantly permeates my skin.
And damn, do I miss him.
The feel of his hard, strong body against me. His scent wrapping around me and invading every breath I take.
My body aches for him.
I want it all back, but I know I’ve lost him.
I’ve blown my chance of ever being with Coen Hawke in the way I truly want to, free of ulterior motives and lies, but I can at least do this for him. I can give him a potential way out.
“Fine”—his voice rumbles low—“but if you betray me again, there will be a price to pay that you aren’t going to like.”
I have no doubt that he’ll follow through on that, and it won’t be the same kind of torture and attention he paid to me in bed. “I understand.”
He glances at his uncles. “We’ll let her play.”
“We don’t have much time.” I glance at my watch to confirm. “I’ll walk you through the deck.”
He gives me a sharp nod, then grabs my elbow and starts to lead me off the casino floor toward the hotel lobby, no doubt to grab the deck Satriano would have had to send for them to use.
His lips brush the back of my ear as we walk. Those callouses skate over my skin, and my steps falter. “Do you remember what I told you that night in that booth in Macau?”
How could I possibly ever forget?
He said a lot of things that night, but there’s only one he could possibly be referring to.
I nod. “Nobody fucks with the Hawkes.”
“Remember that today. Anytime you say anything. Every move you make at that table. Hell, every fuckingthoughtyou have, you remember that.”
A shiver runs down my spine, and for the first time since I met him, I actually fear Coen Hawke and what he might be capable of.
19
ALLEGRA
I’ve sat across the table from a lot of dangerous men.
Men with power.
Men who were willing to do anything to get what they wanted.
But after hours of play, the most dangerous one sits across from me now.
Alan LeBlanc may not have known who I was when I sat down, but he sure as hell knows now.
The way he is watching me, assessing me, he’s figured out that I know how to read the cards the same way he does. Which means now that we’ve reached the final hand—the one that will determine who wins the entire tournament—we’re on a level playing field.
