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She gave a terse nod. “Thanks for the heads up.”
Turning, she went for the bar, hoping a drink would take the edge off.
After downing two fingers of expensive whiskey—the only kind offered at this party—she made her way upstairs to the play areas.
Memphis leaned against the banister, looking down into the social area when she reached the top.
“You look stressed,” he said. “You drank that whiskey like you’re trying to forget something.”
“Just upset about the tournament.”
“My offer still stands. No bets, just a million dollars for a night with you.”
She leaned back and eyed him. “Hunter told me you weren’t thinking straight. I don’t know how seriously I should take you.”
He scowled. “Hunter should mind his own business.”
“Lucky for you, I don’t always listen to the warnings people give me and I have a counteroffer.”
He folded his arms, and she swallowed as she watched his shirt pull tight across his muscular shoulders.
“I’m listening.”
“A game of heads up, no limit Hold ’Em. Ten grand buy-in. You and me. You win and you have my submission for twenty-four hours and I get what you were going to pay me to begin with for the poker lessons. I win and you give me triple that and I go home tomorrow.”
His wheels seemed to turn as he contemplated her offer.
“What’s on your schedule for the next month?” he asked, uncrossing his arms, and shoving a hand in his pocket.
She shook her head. “No major plans. I have no more tournaments for another three months.”
He nodded and turned to lean on the railing again.
“I have a counter to your counter. Same game, but the stakes are higher. You win and I hand you two million. I win and you give me complete surrender for the next four weeks. At the end of the four weeks, you’ll still get your two-mil.”
Her mouth dropped open as she calculated whether her family could get by without her for four weeks. “Are you serious? There’s no way I don’t leave with two million?”
He gave a shake of his head. “What do you say?”
She blew out a breath. “It seems like odds I can’t pass up.”
“I need a yes, Rylee. I may want your unquestioning submission, but I also want your consent.”
“Yes. But I want a licensed tournament official watching the match. You’re not going to cheat your way to a win.”
“That’s the second time you’ve made a crack about me cheating. I should be offended.”
She shrugged. “Probably,” she said, tossing his response from earlier back at him.
“You’ll find that I don’t cheat my way to anything. But you have no way of knowing that, so I’ll agree. But Hunter or one of his staff gets to find the official.”
She rubbed her hands together as the excitement of a looming game bubbled in her gut. Poker gave her a thrill that little else could.
“When do we do this?”
He grinned. “My inclination is to say right now. But you’re bound to be tipsy after the way you tossed back that whiskey and I want it to be fair, so we’ll set it up for in the morning. The guys will just have to do without a poker lesson.”
“Um…” She looked down at her hands, trying not to twist her fingers together.
