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She slips into the booth with no fear at all and as I slide in opposite, I take a moment to stare at a rare beauty. As I heard, she is incomparable because when God created Chastity Blake, it was obvious he couldn’t make up his mind.
It’s as if every nation is represented in her somehow, from her olive skin, deep brown eyes and long jet-black hair that shines like the purest ebony and flows like silk around her shoulders. She is an enigma and uneasily placed, and yet has a confidence that was sharpened through tragedy. Chastity is the most beautiful and challenging woman I’ve ever met in my life, and she is gazing at me as if I’m of no consequence at all.
“State your business, Mr. Ortega.”
I smile to myself because it’s obvious she’s done her homework. In fact, I’m guessing she learned the names of every player in the game and has probably done her research accordingly.
“I believe you are two hundred thousand dollars lighter after our last game. I am giving you the opportunity to win it back.”
“What does that involve?”
From her expression she’s not going to be easily persuaded and probably expects the worse and she should.
“Carlos Matasso.”
For the first time, I get a reaction. She tries to disguise it, but her skin pales and her eyes fill with anger and the way she clenches her fist tells me everything I need to know.
“What about him?”
“I believe you have unfinished business concerning him.”
“Then you believe wrong, Mr. Ortega. I have no thoughts of him at all. Good day.”
She stands, and my guards move closer and seal off any escape she may make, and it almost amuses me to watch her mind calculating if she stands any chance of taking them on.
How I would love to see her try. It would be fascinating to watch. Then again, everything is fascinating about this beauty, and she sits and sighs heavily, her distaste evident on her beautiful face.
“State your business.” She fires back at me with a dead expression and a touch of hostility in her voice that she fails to check.
I lean forward and fix her with my darkest stare, loving how she licks her lips and tries to remain in control.
“I need your services.”
“Which ones?”
“All of them.”
She shakes her head and says dismissively, “Then you will need a lot more than two hundred thousand dollars, Mr. Ortega.”
“I’m offering one million.”
I lay out the minimum figure I am prepared to part with and am impressed when she fires back, “Three million.”
“Two.”
“Done.”
There is zero emotion in her voice and certainly none in her expression as she closes a deal before knowing the details.
I reach out and offer her my hand and as hers slips into my larger one, I hold on tightly, knowing that I’ve won this first battle and as I stare at her full luscious lips, I wonder if the next one will be as easy.
Money is the leveler of many men and I have more of it than most. It’s the next part of my plan that may break her, but I’ll take this small win while I’ve got it.
“It begins now.” I say darkly, interested in her reaction.
“Then you had better tell me what it involves–” She fixes me with a dark look of her own before saying with a husky voice, “Mr. Ortega.”
Now it’s my turn to run my tongue along my lower lip because the tension between us is interesting me more than the reason she’s here.
