Page 13 of The Billionaire's Accidental Legacy

“I confess, I find myself unable to raise you.” She didn’t sound worried. She seemed cool. Collected. At ease.

She wasn’t afraid to lose, which meant she knew she wouldn’t.

Or she wanted him that badly. But with the amount of money at stake, he doubted it.

He did not have a reputation for coming at a high cost.

“You may have to forfeit the game, then. Because I could simply offer more money. But then, that would require I determine the set value of your body.”

“This is unorthodox,” said the dealer.

Men like him were not paid to deal in the unorthodox. Thank God Ewan’s life was more interesting than that.

“You do not have to facilitate,” Ewan said, looking at the man. “The lady and I will work out our own terms.”

Everyone around the table was staring at them, hushed.

Watching this woman prostitute herself.

But then, she had said that she’d attempted to get to his table. Was it for this purpose? Was this all an attempt to seduce him? Because this was quite a lot more work than most women put in to get into his bed.

He was notoriously easy.

He was a man who liked to party. A man who liked the pleasures of the flesh in all ways.

He liked women. He liked sex.

In vanilla and every other flavor that might be on offer.

All she would’ve had to do was walk in and ask for sex; he’d have given it to her.

He was hungry. Always. For every experience that might be out there. So it could only be that.

Plus, she was far too good at playing cards.

Far too good.

She was a card counter. That made sense.

The way that she looked at him, and everything else, was sharp and astute. He’d have likely lost to her even if he hadnotintended to lose tonight. His next offer had always been one he’d intended to make. Losing the estate was his goal, and doing so in a way that would make headlines.

It was a shame he had no intention of taking victory here. Because he wouldn’t mind winning her body.

“You’re right. It is impossible to volley with something of equal monetary value. And so my return offer is this. Upon my father’s death, my title and my estate.”

Her response to that was imperceptible. As he knew it had to be.

If she appeared surprised, or too eager, then it would be easy for the casual observer to see that she was certain she had a win on her hands. She was very good, this woman.

If she lost, she would be his for the night.

But he did not think she would.

He had, by design, lost a good deal of money over the past few months. It mattered little to him. Money was easily had. The entire point was to make it look as if he was on the verge of a breakdown. That he was careening right off the edge of a cliff, and that he would take his dying father’s title and empire with him. The old man only had a couple of weeks left. Long enough to see him lose the estate. Long enough to know that it would be leaving the family. They had an archaic inherited title that meant nothing.

But he had already vowed to his old man that he would never have a child, never pass the estate on. The bloodline would end with him.

Of that he would make sure.

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