Page 19 of His Last Gamble

Charmaine climbed anxiously onto the dark blue table. Unlike most other casinos, the Palace had felt and baize gaming tables in colours other than dark green — most notably navy blue, deep cream, crimson and gold.

For the first full photoshoot inside the Palace, Charmaine was wearing an exquisitely cut creation in mushroom satin. Reminiscent of slinky nightdresses and floating peignoirs, it had Bruges lace at the throat and wrists, and fell in plain, lush folds, almost to her feet.

It was mid-afternoon, but because the inner gaming rooms had no windows at all, Phil had been able to make good use of lighting to create an atmosphere of night-time elegance. Coloured candles and old-fashioned lanterns supplanted the casino’s usual harsh electric lighting.

Phil wanted Charmaine photographed lying on the baccarat table. Her long silvery gold hair was unconfined and spilled around her shoulders, across the dress and over the dark blue table top, in fabulous contrast.

Dee-Dee had been first up, dressed in dazzling white and draped around a slot machine like a pole dancer. It had been very sexy, and was definitely a hard act to follow.

Now, as she concentrated nervously on Phil’s demands to ‘think like a siren’, Charmaine tried to ignore the blond Adonis-like figure of Payne Lacey standing at the back of the room.

‘Right, now half-close your eyes. Imagine you’ve just spotted your lover across a crowded room, and you’re sending him come-to-bed messages,’ Phil said, crouching to get a shot of her at table-height.

A soft flush crept over Charmaine’s face as she tried to keep her eyes from straying towards the back. Why, oh why, had Phil used that particular instruction!

‘Come on, Charmaine, think sensuous!’ Phil encouraged. At the moment she looked more hunted than amorous.

She heard Coral say something and one of the other girls laugh. She was blowing it again. Even Jo-Jo stirred restlessly.

Damn it, Charmaine thought with a sudden flash of anger, I’ll show them. I won’t ruin another good photoshoot. I won’t! She owed Jo-Jo, and herself too, more than that. Think about a lover, Phil had said. Well, all right then. She would! Deliberately, she let her eyes stray to those of Payne Lacey. It was not exactly hard to do, since they seemed to be drawn there anyway, like one of those hapless heroines in a vampire movie on the first appearance of the Count!

She stretched one arm further away, lowering her head closer to the table. She imagined him walking closer, like a wolf, silent and loping. He would lean down, perhaps pull a swathe of hair off her shoulder and bend to kiss the exposed flesh.

Phil began to snap like a man demented, his mind racing. Whatever it was he’d said to her, she’d certainly taken it to heart! This was sensational stuff!

Charmaine felt a dreamy smile come to her lips as she imagined his first tender kiss — perhaps on the curve of her shoulder, or the small indent on her neck. She almost shuddered at the imagined touch.

He’d say her name, softly. She’d turn onto her back and look up at him. Without thinking she did so, and Phil leapt up onto the bench placed beside the table for just such a shot. He didn’t care that he hadn’t asked her for the pose — he knew when a model was going with the flow, and he was more than happy to go with her.

Especially when she was producing such stunning shots as this.

Those electric-blue eyes, narrowing to icy slits then opening wide with languorous desire, were so hot that he felt sure he was getting images that would make even the negatives sizzle!

Over on the other side of the room, Payne Lacey felt himself harden and burn, and cursed silently. What did she think she was playing at? Everything had fallen silent as all the people in the room became aware of the sensation taking place on the baccarat table.

His hands curled into fists, his fingernails digging into his palms. He wanted to go over there and ravish her on the spot. And at the same time give her a tongue-lashing for acting the wanton.

Charmaine sighed, looking up at Phil, but seeing only Payne. Since she would never in reality let him touch her as she was imagining his touch, where was the harm?

She stretched, arching her back, imagining his hands on her breasts, cupping, caressing, moving around and down to take the tender line of her hips in his hands. Slowly, slowly, lowering his head to kiss the waiting, quivering skin between her breasts.

‘Great, that’s it,’ Phil said, suddenly snapping her rudely back into reality. She shot up, scrambling off the table, knowing her face must be even more scarlet than Jinx’s mini cocktail dress.

This was awful. She’d never be able to show her face again. What had come over her?

‘Right, Jinx — I think we’ll have you rolling dice,’ Phil said, his voice utterly matter-of-fact and professional, and doing much to dispel the sex-laden atmosphere, while Charmaine scurried for cover and the relative peace of the changing rooms.

Two men followed her.

First Jo-Jo, and, after a pause, and far more discreetly, the tall, blond figure of the richest man in the Bahamas.

A small office had doubled as the girls’ changing room, and was for the moment deserted. The make-up girls and dressers were all in the casino, watching the shoot.

She carefully slipped her lovely gown from her body, and wrapped herself into a warm cotton housecoat. She was shaking all over.

What must the others be thinking of her now?

Damn that man, Payne Lacey. Even his imaginary self was enough to make her act like a wanton harlot. Worse, a wanton idiot.

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