Free High Stakes by Vanessa Waltz Page A

around him, affecting me. His face is unsmiling and his body is tense as he crosses his arms in front of me.
    “I know what you saw probably upset you, but that’s the way it is. In casinos, they throw people out for doing that. If I just let him off the hook without punishment, it makes me look weak.”
    I feel like he’s cornering me. My legs hit the edge of the bed as he approaches me. I’m so overwhelmed with being alone with him, actually alone, that I don’t know what to do.
    “If I catch another player counting cards, I won’t tell you. I’m sorry, but I don’t need broken hands on my conscience.”
    The shadows on his face darken. “I guess that’s fair, but I doubt it’ll happen again anyway.”
    I take a tentative step towards him like a child. My hands clench and unclench at my sides, and I let out a nervous laugh.
    “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”
    Blood roars in my ears as his face smoothes over, his eyebrows raised in confusion.
    “No?”
    “No.”
    “Well, what is it, then?”
    Why is so hard for me to ask? Just ask!
    My arms fall limp at my sides, his dark eyes studying me with no emotion. He has no idea what I want from him. How can he not when I’m practically shaking just being in the same room as him?
    “Vince, are—are you married?”
    Oh, Maddon . I didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that.
    The silence in the room is deafening. Every slight movement, every sound is magnified a hundred times. I can practically hear my skin burning.
    “What?” He laughs slightly, his arms uncrossing. “You pulled me in here because you wanted to know if I was married—?”
    “Girlfriend?”
    His dark eyes shine with amusement. “No.”
    “But that girl at the restaurant…”
    His face shines with more and more humor. “She’s just a—friend,” he settles on that word finally. “Why are you asking?”
    A cocky grin spreads over his face as his eyes shine mischievously. 
    Smartass . He knows damn well why.
    “Tell me.” Vince takes a strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear. His hand grasps my neck lightly and his thumb caresses the jugular vein jumping in my neck.
    The soft touch prompts me to look at him. I can’t look away from the intensity in his eyes. His hand feels amazing against my skin. I can’t describe it. It’s electric. I want to touch him, but I can’t bring myself to do it. It’s hard to explain, but I almost feel like I need his permission to touch him.
    “I really—I think you’re…” My voice trails off as his thumb continues its slow stroking of my neck and a wide grin spreads over his face. “I can’t think when you’re touching me like that.”
    “Yeah?” Another one of his low laughs washes over me. His other hand reaches up and glides over my shoulder. He pinches a knot and rubs hard with his thumb. “Adriana, you are a gorgeous woman. Absolutely beautiful.”
    My lips tremble when I hear the “but” in his sentence.
    “You don’t want a guy like me. You go to Columbia. Girls like you get PhDs and marry medigans .”
    Medigans. My grandmother used to say that to describe non-Italians, or those Italian-Americans who lost their roots. Vince uses it with the same contempt.
    “You don’t know what kind of girl I am.”
    He sighs and smoothes the hair over my shoulders. “You’re a sweet girl, and I’m not a good man. Look at what you saw today.”
    “I know. I don’t care.”
    Another look of surprise crosses his face before he speaks with a growl in his voice.
    “I’ll eat you alive, honey.”
    I believe him.
    “Go ahead. Do it.”
    Maybe I want an all-consuming passion that keeps me awake at night, instead of bad memories. Isn’t that exactly what I need? All I know, is that I’m tired of the nightmares, tired of drinking, tired of feeling numb all the time. Around him, I feel .
    He has no answer to that, but I can tell that I surprised him. His hand continues his slow torturous massage while the other still