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‘I have a better plan.’ I hold the glass up between us so the liquid catches the glinting gold reflection from the fire. ‘How much Scotch do you have left?’ I take a slow sip and lick my lips.
‘Enough. But how else will we pass the time if not with business?’ He’s onto me and my thinly veiled seduction. He shifts, his body inching closer.
I have so many sexual suggestions, I almost choke on my next sip of Scotch. But we’re trapped here for the night. There’s no rush, unlike the last time we played with this fire.
‘Do you have a pack of cards?’
‘Of course.’ He opens a drawer in a low coffee table and retrieves a brand-new pack.
A thrill shudders through me as I exhale. ‘What better way to ride out a storm?’ I open the pack and s
huffle. ‘Poker work for you, Black?’
‘I can think of more entertaining games,’ he replies with that trademark confidence and challenge sparking in his stare. ‘But bring it on.’
Oh, I intend to.
