AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She laughed. “Maybe if you’re nice, I’ll let you see a few when we get back to town.”
The words were out before she had evaluated them, and she barely resisted a face-palm when she realized what they implied. Wasn’t she the one who’d called him out on the plane for alluding to future plans? Now she was doing the same. She opened her mouth to backpedal, but Wyatt didn’t give her a chance.
“Then I think I’m going to try to be very, very nice, Ms. LeBreck.” His gaze showed no fear or concern, only searing-hot purpose.
She smoothed her hair, the promise sending a streamer of anticipation through her. “I better get going.”
He pushed off the doorjamb. “Good idea, because you’re suddenly not doing a very good job of convincing me why I need to go spend the next two hours with a bunch of blowhards when I could be here doing unspeakable things to you.”
She blew him a kiss and gave a little wave. “Good-bye, Mr. Austin. Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”
“No, I’ll save that for you, love.”
At that, she slipped out of their cabana and down the steps to the path, smiling so wide her face hurt. She touched her mouth with her fingers, almost surprised to find the grin there. When had she ever felt this . . . light?
She looked to the wide blue sky, half-expecting a bolt of lightning to take her out.
But for once, there wasn’t a storm cloud in sight.
* * *
“All in.” Scott Redmond, one of Wyatt’s father’s biggest clients, pushed the rest of his stack of poker chips toward the pot and sent a challenging look Carmichael’s way.
Wyatt had already bowed out of this hand, though he’d had a pocket pair he would’ve normally played with. So, he sat back in his chair and sipped his drink as he observed the two men. Scott was bluffing. Even with his stone-cold stare, his thumb had rubbed the band of his wedding ring when he’d made the call, revealing his tell. But this was how Scott ran his business—posture and intimidate until the other side gave in.
Carmichael eyed Scott, turning and turning a poker chip between his fingers as he did, then flicked his cards toward the center of the table. “Fold.”
The older man grinned and raked the pot his way. He pushed his own cards toward the dealer, but didn’t flip them over, leaving Carmichael to wonder if he’d been had or not. “Smart move, son.”
“Keep it up at this rate and you’ll need to call Wyatt’s daddy to get advice on where to invest your newest fortune,” Andrew joked, tilting his head Wyatt’s way.
“Or you could just give that big stack of chips to me. I’ll make sure it gets to him,” Wyatt said with a wry smile.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Scott replied with a wheeze of a laugh. “There’s no one I trust more with my money than your father, but these winnings will go straight into a new boat I’ve had my eye on.”
The dealer dealt the next hand, and Wyatt peeked at his two cards, lifting just the corners and cupping his hand around them—queen, king, suited. He tossed in a few chips. Wallace and Cam Berthelot had already busted out and left, so it was only the three of them now.
Carmichael pushed in enough chips to match Wyatt’s bet and nodded his way. “Yeah, Scott here has been singing your father’s praises lately. Seems your firm’s making him a lot of money.”
“Damn straight,” Scott said, shoving his own chips in.
Wyatt swirled his drink, still not trusting Carmichael. The guy had been ridiculously cordial so far today. Not a Quiet Wyatt comment to be heard. But that didn’t mean Wyatt was letting his guard down. And if Andrew expected him to start begging for his business, he was going to be greatly disappointed. “We’re the best at what we do.”
“Not what Tony Merrill says,” Andrew replied, his eyes on the dealer as the older man turned the first card of the flop.
“Tony promises a lot of flash. If you want to be wined and dined and swept off on their annual Mediterranean cruise so that you feel important, you go with Merrill and Mead. If you want people who actually know the market and see what’s around the next curve before you get there, then you go with us.” Wyatt tossed more chips in.
“And what if I need someone who knows how to be discreet?” Andrew asked, his tone as casual as the god-awful tropical shirt he wore today. He pushed his cards in, folding.
The question was simple and not completely off the wall. People wanted ultimate privacy when it came to their finances, but the way Andrew had said it had raised Wyatt’s creep sensors. “Meaning?”
Andrew shrugged and glanced over at their poker partner. “Scott has told me your father has always been good at keeping things clean. You know, even when they may not start out that way.”
Wyatt’s attention snapped toward Scott, who only offered a ghost of a smile as he peeked at his cards to decide what his next move was. Keeping things clean? What the fuck? “I see.”
“Honestly,” Carmichael continued, “I wasn’t sure if you had the cajones to handle something like that. You’ve never been much of a . . . risk-taker. I mean, you didn’t even fuck that pretty girlfriend you had in high school. Shocked the hell out of me when she told me she was a virgin.”
Wyatt gripped his drink so hard, he was surprised it didn’t shatter in his fist. But there was no way he was going to make a scene in front of Scott, one of his father’s most important clients. Wyatt leveled a look at Carmichael, refusing to respond to the bait.
