voice to tell him she was teasing him. When he glanced at her, he realized she wasn’t looking at him. Instead, she was fondling her chips and watching Sanchez.
“Not always,” he said, turning back to look at the cards he’d been dealt.
She said nothing else and damn him to hell, he was intrigued. Not many women would sit next to him, looking like that, and ignore him. Devon knew the way women looked at him and knew it had more to do with his money than his looks, but that was okay by him. His life didn’t allow for long attachments.
As they played through a few hands, she said little. Her voice was sultry, but what made it even more attractive was the hint of Scotland he heard in it. He wasn’t sure if he had the correct accent since it was so slight. But, then a lot of people wouldn’t pick up on it. The Company had thought he needed to detect things of that nature so they’d trained him. Big mistake on their part, but he was thankful for it today.
They played a few more hands, and he found himself more intrigued with each play she made. She wasn’t as bold as he was, but she definitely took a few chances here and there.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”
Sanchez gave him a strange look, but Devon ignored it. He knew most of the workers in the pit would be amused by the way he was acting. Devon wasn’t a man who used old pickup lines on women…not when he was playing. When she said nothing, he glanced at her in time to see her lips curve.
“That’s not a very original line, Mr. Stryker.”
Suspicion darkened a small part of his brain. “How do you know my name?”
She chuckled as she took a peek at her cards. “I believe Sanchez called you by name.”
Damn. Heat rose in his cheeks, and he knew there was a chance he was acting like a fool now.
“Oh, okay.” He sounded like an idiot, but that was probably because he was an idiot. “Since you know my name…”
He left the question hanging.
When she looked directly at him, his brain melted. He’d met a lot of pretty women, but this one…she was stunning because she wasn’t perfect. Most of the women he had known in the last few years had probably spent a fortune to perfect their bodies. This woman did not. Otherwise, she would have fixed that slightly crooked nose.
“Alicia.”
For a second, he didn’t comprehend what she was saying. “What?”
She grinned, and sparks of heat danced through his blood. “My name is Alicia.”
He drew in a deep breath and ordered his body to take a break, but his hormones were ignoring him. It made sense since it had been weeks since he’d had a woman in his bed, but he’d been preoccupied with finding Marjorie. Maybe one night of fun would be good for him—especially with an interesting woman like the blonde next to him.
“You don’t look like an Alicia.”
One eyebrow rose in question. “Indeed?”
God, he loved that prissy tone. It made him want to get her to laugh, do something spontaneous. He wasn’t sure why, but Devon was convinced this woman didn’t do things on a whim. She was a planner.
“Nope.”
Then he turned back to the game. It only took her a few seconds to ask, “What do I look like?”
He turned to her again and studied her. “Ali. I like Ali for you.”
She snorted and for that one split second everything seemed to disappear from around them. It was so completely out of character for a woman as put together as she was.
“Ali. Well, that’s a first.”
“Don’t tell me no one has called you Ali before.”
She looked at him as the humor drained from her face. “Not for a very long time.”
“Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten dinner, and I was wondering if you would like to get a bite to eat.”
She seemed to hesitate, and that irritated him. He wasn’t a man who got mad if a woman turned him down, but for some reason, he wanted this. Wanted to spend time alone with her.
“Sure.”
“Would you freak out if I invited you up to my room?