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Jon Anders paused near Jasmine. “I hope we can play again. I’d like a chance to win back some of that money.”
“Perhaps we’ll meet again,” she said.
“I’m sure we will.” Jon nodded toward Ace and left the room.
Christos offered Jasmine his arm.
She slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow, ready to get to the compound.
As he led her through the casino to the front entrance, the electronic bells and jingling of the slot machines barely registered with Jasmine. She focused completely on the task ahead.
Ace followed a few steps behind.
Having him there gave her a sense of security she hadn’t experienced since her time in the Sayeret Matkal. Knowing Ace had her back bolstered her courage.
As they exited the casino, a black limousine waited at the curb.
Night had fallen over Athens, and city lights blurred the stars overhead.
The driver stood beside the rear door. As they approached, he opened the door and held it as Jasmine got in and slid across the seat.
Christos sat beside her. The driver opened the front passenger door and motioned for Ace to sit there.
Ace frowned, his gaze meeting Jasmine’s as she leaned around Christos.
“You can ride up front,” she said to him in English. “I’ll be all right.” Jasmine would rather Ace rode with them in the rear of the vehicle, but that wouldn’t be conducive to lulling Christos into letting down his guard. She wanted him to think she was no threat and that he had a chance at seducing her.
Ace hesitated a moment longer, leveling a hard look at Christos. Then he climbed into the front seat of the limousine, where he could neither see nor hear what was happening in the back of the vehicle.
Jasmine suspected he wouldn’t be happy about it. But it couldn’t be helped.
Once both doors were closed, the driver climbed into his seat and drove the limousine away from the casino into night traffic. He maneuvered through traffic, heading out of the city into the countryside.
Jasmine watched through the side window as the density of buildings thinned on the outskirts of the sprawling metropolis.
“Do you live very far from the casino?” Jasmine asked.
“Our home isn’t in Athens, but it won’t take long. The view is worth the drive,” Christos said. “Can I offer you a drink?”
She nodded. “Some water would be nice.”
He leaned forward and opened the door to a mini bar with a refrigerator, extracted a bottle of water and handed it to her. He selected one for himself and closed the door.
Jasmine twisted the cap off the bottle and drank, glad for a distraction that would limit, if only briefly, her ability to answer questions should he ask.
“Where did you learn to play poker, Miss Giordano?” Christos asked.
She swallowed before answering, “Please, call me Francesca,” she said. “I learned to play poker from a friend. And you?”
“My father.” He twisted the top off his bottle and drank before continuing. “He likes challenges.”
“Do you play with him often?”
His smile twisted. “Not anymore. We played a lot when I was younger. He’s a very busy man with many responsibilities.”
“Will you take over the family business someday?” she asked. Though she pretended to look out the window, she observed Christos in her peripheral vision.
“Perhaps,” he said.
