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Shark nodded.
“At least that way, you’ll get in a few shots.”
“He’s that good?”
Twister eyed the table and nodded. “Yeah, he’s that good. He could run the table if he wanted to.”
“Maybe then, you should play my daughter,” the ambassador said, moving away from the cues and motioning for Maddy to take his place.
“Dad, I’m okay, but not that great.” She smiled, her effervescence working its magic inside of him. He loved to watch her talk, and move, and smile, and breathe. He swallowed hard, every pore in his body attuned to her. She walked over, and he offered her the cue he had chosen.
“This one.” He’d been taught by a master and as she took the cue, his head was congested with old memories. There had been a whole lot of baggage he’d stowed, stuff that he wasn’t sure he’d ever put behind him.
That started the guys talking again. They knew he never gave up a cue he planned to play with. He glanced at Twister, who gave him a what-the-heck-is-going-on look. Shark gave him a tiny shrug. Twister grinned.
He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, his escalating attraction beyond his control, “Just a tip. Always chalk, and when lining up your shot, make sure to look at the whole table and line up your second, and so on.” Her eyelashes fluttered, and she shivered delicately, then her lashes slowly drifted open, revealing smoky amber eyes that looked soft and dreamy.
A wisp of a knowing smile hitched up the corner of her mouth. “Are you fraternizing with the enemy?” she asked, a slight rasp to her voice.
“Just helping out.”
“Such a gentleman. But I’m okay. I’m really good with balls. I know how to handle them with just the right amount of…pressure.”
He swallowed back a groan, rattled. Such an unpredictable and arousing response, his balls actually ached for her touch. Wanting her went up a notch. There was no blocking the lust that kicked up his adrenaline whenever he was close to her. His dick hardened. Now she was baiting him, and he hadn’t exactly gotten over her interference with Tex.
She broke with ease, and he couldn’t help admiring her stance in that form-fitting dress. He chose another cue, but it wasn’t as balanced as the one he’d given over to Maddy. It would do. He could still clean up…if he wanted to.
“Solids, so many pretty colors,” she said as her eyes ran over the table. “I suppose you wouldn’t want to sweeten the deal?”
He smiled, intrigued by her offer. Did she actually think she could beat him? She reached up and tucked some of that russet hair behind the delicate shell of her ear, the hoop winking in the light. Her confidence was another huge turn-on.
“What do you have in mind?”
“If I win, there’s an amazing shop downtown. My choice.”
“And if I win.”
She bit that full, enticing bottom lip, drawing his eyes to her mouth. He was losing focus when she said, “A tour of the island and lunch at one of the best restaurants.”
“Done.”
“No whining when you lose,” she said, the guys chuckling in the background. Bastards.
She was too much. He intended to give her a good game. She sank three balls with relative ease but miscalculated the bank of the pocket with her fourth ball.
He set his cue on the table, sliding the wood through his finger bridge to get a feel of it. Then, when he had his shot lined up along with his second, he went to hit the ball, but Maddy shifted, and he caught a whiff of her scent—a warm, vanilla fragrance that made him want to bite her. He lost his focus and missed the shot.
There was an audible gasp around the table. His teammates started talking even more under their breaths. Yeah, there was a bet going on.
“Oh, tough luck,” Maddy said, her voice a knowing purr.
Her father chuckled and her mother smiled. They knew their daughter.
She gave him an innocent look and sidled her hip into his to move him out of the way. She was completely outrageous, the little sensual hustler. He narrowed his eyes at her, but she was completely unaffected.
He missed her sinking two more balls because she was leaning over so close to him, he could see the creamy swell of her firm breasts as they rose and fell with her breathing. She was up on him by six shots. Something that had never happened to him unless he was snaking someone in his hustler days.
He could still win, but she only had one more solid and the eight ball left.
