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A game?
“What game?”
“Heads or tails. The classics are always the best, aren’t they?”
His eyes flash with wicked amusement, while mine fight to convey indifference.
I move one step forward, closing the gap between me and danger. “And the wager?”
My gaze tracks his hand as it reaches for the crystal tumbler on the desk. Both the clear liquid and the face of his wristwatch glint as he takes a sip. “You win, I kiss you. I win, you kiss me.”
My mind dislikes the idea with a passion. With a one-in-two odds and a million dollars of non-existent money on the line, I’d be an idiot to agree, no matter how hot the pendant around my neck sizzles.
My body, on the other hand…
The space between my thighs beats with the idea of having his lips against mine. My mouth waters with the thrill of taking such a risky gamble.
With a reckless haze sweeping through my bones and spurring me on, I place my hands on his desk and lean over it.
“What’s the catch?”
His stare is hot and unapologetic as it tracks the curve of my throat and settles on my necklace. “No catch.”
“Then tails never fails, baby.”
It’s out my mouth and wading through the thick air between us before I can stop it.
He continues to stare at my necklace, a slow, devilish smirk stretching across his lips. Those dimples deepen with mischief and something uncouth.
My heart beats on the double as he pulls a penny from his slacks. Blood swooshes in my ears as he balances it on the back of his thumb.
He looks at me quickly, and when he flicks, I feel it against my clit.
Everything slows except my pulse. One revolution. Two revolutions. Three. I can count every spin of the coin as it falls to the desk.
The clattering of copper against wood is deafening.
It lands between the glass tumbler and a paperweight. Holding my breath, I lean over and look at it. Raphael doesn’t bother, he only leans back in his chair, runs two fingers over his lips, and studies me for my reaction.
Tails.
The cocktail of excitement and relief floods through me so violently it buckles my knees and buzzes in my fingertips.
Laughing maniacally, I push off the desk and stroll around the office like I own it. I don’t know what I’m high off of; the thought of becoming a mushroom millionaire, or discovering what Raphael’s tongue tastes like.
Hell, who am I kidding?
“A million dollars. Whew. Maybe I’ll buy a yacht of my own, anchor it right over there—” I gesture to the pitch-black ocean beyond the window “—and point a laser beam into your office every time you’re trying to work.” My hand glides down the silky curtain. “Or I’ll buy up every collar pin in the world, so you have to go back to wearing boring old ties.”
I turn around and meet Raphael’s gaze. He’s watching me with a hint of amusement, turning his chair to follow me as I prance around his dimly lit office.
“Where do you want to kiss me, then? I suppose we could do it upstairs in the casino so everyone knows you’re a massive loser. Or…” I turn back to the French doors and press my hand up against the rain-streaked glass. Let out a dramatic sigh. “We could do it out in the rain. You know, like the scene in The Notebook?”
“Never seen it.”
“Christ, then you’ve never lived.” I turn around again, expectancy written over my face. “Well?”
He digs his heel into the carpet and rolls his chair a few feet away from his desk. His hand thumps the edge of it twice. “Up here.”
