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Her actual thoughts winging ahead to the point in time she’d be back in that artifact room, Jasmine smiled secretly. “Mmm...is that the aged oak barrel that I taste?” She acted as if tasting Scotch was the only thing on her mind.
Christos drank another long swallow from his glass. “Precisely.” He smiled. “Nothing but the best for my guest.”
“I’ll need the distillery's name to order some for my home.” Jasmine took another pretend sip.
“I’ll get that for you.”
Jasmine cocked an eyebrow. “Money first.”
“Of course,” he said. “I’ll get that now.” He set his tumbler on a glass table in front of the sofa.
Jasmine set hers next to it and walked with him to the door.
He paused before opening the door. “I have to go into my father’s quarters. You can stay here and finish your drink.”
“I will,” she said with a smile. “I would like to speak with my bodyguard and let him know I’ll be a couple of hours and that no one is to disturb us.”
“By all means,” Christos said with a smile and left the room. He passed Ace and hurried across the landing to the double doors on the opposite end.
Jasmine remained just inside the door.
Ace approached.
She lowered her voice to a whisper in case Christos’s room was bugged with listening devices. “Clear your throat when he’s on his way back.”
He gave a slight nod.
In a louder tone, she said, “You’re to remain outside these doors for the next few hours. We’ll require complete privacy.” She winked.
Ace dipped his head once and took up a position beside the door, his arms crossed over his chest.
Jasmine left the door open and returned to the glass table where the two tumblers stood. She twisted the gem on the ring and dumped the powder into Christos’s half-finished drink. She poured some of her drink into his, lifted it, swirled the liquid around and was in the process of placing it back on the table when Ace cleared his throat.
She picked up her glass and walked toward the windows. When Christos walked into the room, Jasmine stood at the window, her drink half-empty. She looked out at the night sky, keeping Christos in her peripheral vision.
He entered, closed the door behind him and twisted the deadbolt lock. “Is your bodyguard good to go for a while?”
Jasmine nodded. “We’ll have complete privacy for the next couple of hours.”
“Good.” He held out a stack of currency. “I have your money.”
She tipped her head toward the glass table where his tumbler stood. “You can leave it on the table for now.”
He dropped the bills on the table, retrieved his glass and joined her at the windows.
She stared up at him. “Most men are intimidated by a woman who can beat them in a competition. I hope you don’t mind that I beat you at poker.”
Christos shook his head. “Not at all. I admire strong women. My mother was a strong woman.”
“How did she die?” Jasmine asked.
“Of breast cancer,” he said, staring down into his drink.
“That must have been a difficult time for you and your father.”
He nodded. “It was. They didn’t discover it until it was too late.”
She raised her glass. “Let’s drink to your mother and all mothers who love their little boys.” She lifted the glass to her lips and pretended to drink as long as Christos did.
