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“What do you mean?”
“Sending the blonde bombshell to deal with the situation instead of a bunch of goons.”
Her cheeks flame brighter, and I watch her swallow hard. I decide to throw her a bone. I smile pleasantly, the smile I give when I want the other party to relax, to stop seeing me as the enemy. “It doesn’t exactly make the place seem welcoming if it has teams of security dragging customers across the floor, does it?”
For the first time, the cool professional smile slips and I see the real smile beneath it. The one that reaches her eyes and makes them sparkle for a second. “I suppose not.”
“And I guess there’s a lot less bravado this way. Men who would fight another man to prove they’re someone to be reckoned with are much less likely to react that way with … a beautiful woman.”
She blinks. “Well, it seems like you have our system all worked out. So, let me ask you a little question. Are you going to be trouble?”
“Oh, I’m always trouble,” I admit cheerfully. “But if you’re asking if I’m going to start throwing punches at your underpaid, overworked security staff, I can assure you I’m not.”
“And yet you are still here even after I’ve asked you nicely to leave,” she points out.
“Ah, but you didn’t ask me to leave. You told me to call it a night and I don’t like being told what to do.”
“Then perhaps I should reword it. I’m politely asking you to leave the premises and carry on with your night somewhere else,” she says, flashing me her own version of my winning smile, this smile doesn’t reach her eyes.
Her lines don’t feel rehearsed although I’m sure she has had this conversation countless times.
“But the company here is so good. Why would I want to switch that out for somewhere less … welcoming?” I counter with a smile that reaches all the way to my dick.
“Because I’m asking you nicely.” She smiles, this one can freeze a whole elephant in a second.
I laugh. I can’t help it. She has a way about her, a way that I imagine works on the average customer, but I am anything but the average customer.
“Will you answer me a question first?” I ask.
She nods, watching me warily like she’s waiting for something to happen. The air between us feels charged, and I find myself waiting for what might happen.
“When you use this tactic to get rid of undesirables from the casino, have you ever come across someone your charms don’t work on?”
She laughs, a carefree, confident laugh that makes me want to reach out and pull her into my arms. She is more intoxicating than I had anticipated.
“No sir, I haven’t,” she says softly. “I always get what I want.”
Jesus! Where did that come from? She’s flirting with me. She is off book now for sure and bravo to her, she’s completely thrown me off my game. Cindy Forrester is far, far more potent than I expected her to be. There is so much more to her than meets the eye … which actually makes her perfect for what I have in mind.
Cindy
Usually when I catch someone cheating in the casino I feel real anger, as if they have reached into my purse and stolen my own hard-earned money. It’s not so much about the money, though. More about the fact that some jumped-up punk thinks he can get one over on me. That I won’t see through his pathetic little scam and know exactly what he’s up to.
This time, I feel angry with myself.
Dark and stormy has as good as admitted he cheated, and yet not only am I no closer to working out how he did it than I was in my office when I was watching him on the monitor, but he also seems to have the upper-hand in our power struggle. And I am in no doubt it is that.
I want to ask him, actually demand he tells me what he did, but I know it will do no good.
A) he won’t tell me, and …
B) I have a feeling letting a man like this know I want something from him would be a big mistake.
Another thing that unsettles me is the strong impression that he knows something I don’t. That’s something that has invisibly tipped the power between us so he is holding all the cards.
I don’t buy his smooth exterior for a second. I’ve been around men long enough to sense when danger is bubbling beneath the surface. His is coming off him in waves, literally waiting to be unleashed. He has the air of someone from the criminal underworld, but I don’t feel afraid of him. I probably should be, but I’m not.
He’s undeniably flirting with me, but what the heck am I doing flirting back? Something even a fool can tell is a terrible idea. It’s acceptable, expected even, to lightly flirt with customers. It oils the wheels and takes the sting out of the word no. But not in these circumstances. When the customer is clearly no ordinary con artist, and I feel as if I am the one standing on shaky ground.
