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Because if anyone deserved the perfect fairy-tale castle, it was Kelsey.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Wyatt circled his arms around Kelsey’s waist and set his chin on the top of her head, giving her puppy dog eyes in the bathroom mirror as she re-powdered her nose. “Can’t we bail on this get-together and go lay out on the deck? Naked. We’ve got all kinds of privacy out there. And think how fun it’ll be to lather up with sunscreen.”

Kelsey gave him her best attempt at a stern look, though it was hard with his fingers creeping beneath the bottom edge of her top and stroking her belly. “No way, Mister. I danced with Mr. Fancy Pants the other night to get you this invite. You are going to go play nice and get his business.”

“I told you, love. I don’t want Carmichael’s goddamned business.” His palms slid upward, cupping her breasts through the thin lace of her bra. “I want you. Plus, I thought I’d teach you to drive a jet ski later.”

She shivered beneath his touch, her body going hot at the mere suggestion of spending the rest of the day beneath him. But she had to remind herself that they were here for another reason besides wanton sex and island fun. For most of the week, she’d let Wyatt tempt her away from time with the other guests because one look and sexy suggestion from him usually had all her resolve melting and her clothes magically falling off. And luckily, during the few couple’s activities they’d participated in, he’d made good contacts and had a few meetings set up, but the gold medal of clients hadn’t been landed yet. So when it came to today’s plan, she had to turn the tables on her dom and push the issue. He could punish her for it later.

She set her compact down and turned in his arms. He didn’t back up, but simply pressed his hands to the edge of the sink, caging her in. “You brought me here to help you.”

“And you have. More than you know.” He leaned down and kissed her. “I don’t need to go spend time with that jerk. You’re much more interesting.”

“So the guy’s an asshole, so what?” she asked, doing her best not to get sucked into the vortex of temptation. “You don’t have other assholes on your client list?”

His smile dipped.

“Exactly. And this guy can help your company. You wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble to come out here if you didn’t need this to happen.” She put her hands on his chest. “So let me help you. Play their game. Which today is poker for you boys and mani/pedis for we delicate ones.”

“Delicate, huh?”

She slid her hands upward and wrapped her arms around his neck. “For the record, I could kick all of your asses at Texas Hold ’Em. I play at The Ranch with some of the other employees. But apparently getting invited to Andrew’s exclusive poker game is only for a chosen few . . . and those chosen few must have external genitalia. So I’ll go hang with the girls and see if I can make any more friends for you. And you go land yourself a whale.”

He sighed and touched his forehead to hers, but she could tell she’d already won. “I thought you were supposed to be taking orders from me, love.”

Her lips curled. “Not in this arena. But later . . .”

He drew his hand up from her waist and gently collared her neck, his thumb tracing the delicate skin there. Her muscles automatically went pliant, her weight leaning onto the sink, as if that simple touch hit some liquefy button inside of her. “Yes. Later there will be no talking back, unless it’s to beg.”

She closed her eyes, her heart hopping like she’d turned up the dial on the treadmill. It took everything she had not to give in and let him take her to the bed right then. She wet her lips, trying to put together her thoughts. “For the poker game . . .”

“Mmm-hmm,” he said absently as he wedged his thigh between her legs, giving pressure right where she needed it, and kissed behind her ear.

She swallowed against his hold on her throat, her head tilting back on its own volition. “Don’t play too well. Play good enough so that they know you’re smart and make wise decisions about when to take risks and when not to, but don’t cut off their balls by beating them into the ground and winning all their chips. Let them think you’re evenly matched. Let them win some big hands against you.”Author: Roni Loren

He leaned back, releasing his hold and smirking. “You’re assuming I’m some poker whiz. Maybe they’ll beat me fair and square.”

She scoffed. “You have a genius mind for math and probabilities, and you have a poker face that would rival a dead man’s. Are you telling me you don’t know how to play cards?”

His smile was slow, lethal.

She smacked his chest. “You’ve never lost, have you?”

He grabbed her wrist and brought it to his mouth, kissing the inside of it. “I promise to lose—a little—today. God forbid I injure one of the monster-sized egos in the room.”

“Watch that glass house, stud.” She pushed up on her toes and kissed him again, then ducked out of his hold, giving him a pat on the ass as she moved past him. “I’ll see you after the big game. Go team!”

“Sure you don’t want to come by in a cheerleader outfit? Maybe with a big W on your T-shirt?” he asked, following her out of the bathroom and leaning against the doorjamb with a sex-on-the-rocks smile.

She cocked her head to the side and tapped a finger against her chin. “Hmm, I think I may still have one of those outfits at home in the dancer box. No W though.”

“Fuck me,” he said, carding a hand through his hair and looking like she’d told him she had the best tasting dessert ever but wasn’t going to share. “You kept the outfits?”

She shrugged. Truth was, she liked role play. She only hoped she’d never have to do it on a stage again. “Perhaps.”

“God, I hate that you had to do that job, but hell if you didn’t just make my brain explode a little.”

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