His Last Gamble Read online

  Charmaine shook her head. It made no sense. And yet, he’d sounded genuinely angry and genuinely concerned for the unknown ‘Maria’.

  Yet again she felt uneasy, as the man she knew she must hate once more showed her the unexpectedly honourable and considerate side of his nature.

  ‘And whose fault is that?’ Payne said sharply. ‘If your marriage is on the rocks, you have no-one to blame but yourself.’

  Ah, now that was more the kind of thing she’d expect from him, Charmaine thought, with a sour smile. The man was both pitiless and heartless.

  ‘OK, OK. Anyway, I’m flying to England tomorrow. This situation has gone on long enough,’ his friend replied tersely.

  They must have walked slowly away after that, for Charmaine could barely make out Payne’s response. Then the sound of their voices faded completely.

  For a few moments, she continued to sit in the shade, miserably aware that her heart was beating like a drum, her palms were sweating, and she was gulping in air like a beached fish. And all because of his voice. Just because she knew he’d been there, just a few inches away.

  Good grief, she had to get herself under control. He was the one who was supposed to be feeling all uneasy and giddy with desire. Not her! She was supposed to remain cool and calm and calculating.

  She had to stop this melting feeling of desire every time he came near her. It would be disastrous if she fell into the same trap as Lucy.

  Worse than disastrous, because she’d have absolutely no excuse—she’d be doing it with her eyes wide open!

  * * *

  That night, she dressed with extra care. Jo-Jo, herself, and the rest of the models were once more going to the Palace, but this time Phil and his helpers were eager to get some set up preliminary shots. With permission of course. Usually casinos didn’t allow photographs to be taken inside the building, since the security men were always alert to potential robbers trying to ‘case’ the building, and management was always on the look out for potential gamblers trying to work out how to beat the system. But Jo-Jo had told Payne that he could have all the negatives taken that night, and that Phil only wanted to get an artistic take on the background.

  But Charmaine wasn’t so much interested in work, but in how to repair the damage done that morning. And she knew she would have to look particularly stunning to win back Payne’s favour.

  She chose a tube of electric-blue silk shot through with silver as the opening salvo in the battle. One of her more daring creations, it was literally a tube of material, hanging from silver straps, and falling to mid-calf. All the shape came from the body underneath. When designing it, Charmaine had made a note that it must be made from pure raw silk, which would cling in all the places it touched, giving it form. The swirling threads of stiff silver thread made it sparkle in the light. With her pale blue eyes, and her silvery hair hanging down past her shoulders, it was perfect.

  With it she wore strappy silver sandals and gorgeous, pagan-looking beaten silver and aqua-marine jewellery.

  If this didn’t make him want to give her a second chance, she didn’t know what would.

  * * *

  Payne was watching a Japanese businessman lose his last hundred thousand pounds when they walked through the door.

  The photographer immediately began snapping film, and he was amused to note that, even though they weren’t for publication, Jinx managed to get in some of the shots. The redhead was wearing deep royal purple, a mere scrap of satin that barely covered her. Once he was sure that Charmaine had noticed him watching Jinx woo and charm (and yes, even manage to distract) some of the dedicated gamblers, he turned at last and let his eyes run boldly over her from top to bottom.

  He hoped, from where she stood across the room of baccarat players, that she couldn’t see the way his breath caught in his lungs, or the sweat that popped out on his forehead.

  Not that any red-blooded male would have reacted differently. She looked simply magnificent. Under the light of the chandeliers, the silver in her dress caught and flashed at him, as if signalling him in some code known only to lovers. It was certainly pulling him across the room as if she were a magnet, and he a mere iron filing. The rest of his body was feeling iron hard too, and he cursed this instant effect she had on him.

  He was going to have to be very careful around this woman. She was the human equivalent of dynamite!

  ‘Hello Payne,’ Jo-Jo said as he bore down on them, admiring the cut of the other man’s dinner jacket. He wished he looked as good in tropical white. ‘Thanks for this,’ he said, indicating the happily snapping photographer. ‘I promise you he won’t disturb the gamblers.’

  ‘No trouble,’ Payne said briefly, then snapped his fingers at a hovering waiter. ‘And speaking of gambling,’ he said, smiling, ‘I thought the ladies might like a flutter.’

  And with that the waiter lowered the tray, revealing not fluted glasses of champagne, but piles of chips—red, black, green and white.

  Jinx, of course, was immediately there. ‘Payne, for us!’ she breathed, widening her eyes and rubbing her arm against his. ‘How deliciously wicked.’

  The other girls murmured too. Even the chronically bored Coral perked up. ‘Lovely. I must try my hand at poker,’ she said, reaching out and grabbing a handful. ‘I’ve always wanted to!’

  By the time the others had done the same there were very few chips left.

  Charmaine couldn’t have cared if they’d taken them all. Gambling just wasn’t her thing. Besides, she was still trying to find her tongue and come up with a good opening line for Payne. ‘Sorry I kissed you,’ just didn’t seem appropriate somehow.

  ‘The greedy little darlings,’ Jo-Jo drawled ruefully, watching his models eagerly making for the various tables, and then reached for the few meagre specimens left on the tray. Wryly he handed them over to Charmaine who had no choice but to let him drop them into her hand.

  ‘Oh no, Jo-Jo,’ she murmured, looking uncomfortable. ‘Why don’t you take them. You’re bound to have more luck than me.’

  ‘Oh I don’t know,’ Payne said softly. ‘Sometimes Lady Luck recognises one of her sisters.’

  Charmaine forced her eyes up to meet his. She tried for a puzzled-sophisticated glance.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Another Lady I mean,’ he said softly. ‘Lady bountiful, perhaps?’ he teased. ‘Or maybe Lady Godiva. With that wonderful blonde hair . . .’

  Charmaine blinked. Wasn’t Lady Godiva known for riding around naked on a white horse? She almost snorted. He should be so lucky!

  Payne, eyes twinkling in response to her angry flush, reached out to push back a soft strand of hair from her cheek.

  It was all she could do to stand still.

  Beside her, she heard Jo-Jo give a soft sigh. He’d always been a romantic. And so must she be, if she was ever going to get Payne Lacey back in her sight she reminded herself grimly. It was no good just standing there like a statue, she reprimanded herself.

  ‘How kind,’ she said softly. ‘But I’ve never placed a bet in my life. I’m not sure I know how.’ She hoped she sounded as helpless as a lost kitten. It was, she was almost sure, the kind of thing Jinx would say, if she wanted to encourage a man to show how big and strong and gallant he was.

  Then she saw Payne’s lips twitch in amusement, and wondered if she hadn’t overdone it somewhat.

  ‘Well then in that case,’ he said, offering her his arm, ‘allow me to demonstrate.’

  She tensed as she slipped her hand through the crook of his arm, and knew, without having to look up at him, that he was grinning like the devil at her.

  Of course he’d seen right through her little-girl-act the moment the words were out of her mouth. It was no use. She was just no good at this sort of thing. Still, at least he was by her side, and hadn’t simply gone off with Jinx. Which must mean that she hadn’t totally put him off with her stupid behaviour this morning.

  Unless, of course, he was just waiting for a chance to get his
revenge.

  She looked up at him nervously, but his face was calm and alert. She looked around, seeing the place through his eyes. Yes, she could see why there was such pride of ownership in his countenance. This was his kingdom. A man who could gamble everything he owned, and win, would be king here forever.

  He lead her to the roulette table. Over to her right, she heard Dee-Dee mock moan as she lost at cards.

  ‘What’s she playing?’ she asked curiously, and Payne turned his head for the briefest of moments, eyes flickering over the table. The dealer met his eye, seeming to silently ask if he wanted anything, and just as silently received the answer. No. Everything ran like clockwork, and all revolving around this man—this master of chance.

  ‘Pontoon. Or twenty one.’ He smiled wolfishly. ‘The French pronunciation is the prettiest, of course, but basically the dealer deals two cards. The object of the game is to get as close to twenty one points as you can without going over. A face card and an ace is an immediate black jack, the ace counting for eleven, and the bank pays. You’re friend just twisted on twelve, and got another face card, putting her over with twenty two points. Unlucky.’

  Charmaine nodded. ‘Doesn’t the bank always win?’ she asked cynically.

  Payne grinned wolfishly. ‘The odds always favour the house, of course,’ he said simply, ‘otherwise there’d be no casinos. We’d all go bankrupt. But the lure is in beating the odds. Occasionally there are big winners, which only encourages the others.’

  ‘Has anyone ever broken the bank here?’ she asked curiously, and Payne gave a cold, hard smile.

  ‘No,’ he said simply.

  No. Of course not, Charmaine thought sourly. As if anyone would dare!

  ‘Here were are,’ he said, moving up to a table containing a roulette wheel. A woman who was not playing but only watching, quickly made way for him. The man behind the wheel, resplendent in ‘The Palace’ uniform of gold waistcoat, red bow tie, crisp white shirt and black trousers, looked up anxiously at his employer, but Payne merely smiled.

  His hand came to rest on the small of her back, making a long sensuous shudder travel the length of her spine.

  She hoped he didn’t notice.

  At the same time, her breath became trapped in her throat as the heat of his casually resting fingertips burned through the fabric of her dress, and her nipples hardened and tightened like little tell-tales in the clinging, revealing dress.

  Don’t let him notice that either, she thought frantically. Oh please!

  She coughed, managing to dislodge her breath, and plastered a bright, false smile onto her face. ‘So, what do I do?’ she asked brightly. And looked up to find him staring down at her, his eyes dreamily caressing the curve of her breast.

  ‘Hmmm? Oh, with the chips you mean,’ he teased, watching yet again as she blushed in mortification.

  Really, he must stop doing this to her. But it was so hard to resist. He did so love the way her icy, sometimes frightening beauty, melted so charmingly into consternation.

  ‘Yes,’ Charmaine gritted. ‘You were going to teach me to play Roulette, remember?’

  This man was a monster! He knew exactly what a hold he had over women, and used it with all the skill of a surgeon wielding a knife. No wonder poor Lucy had been unable to resist him.

  He was like a drug. Even now, as mad as she was with him, as humiliated and flustered, she was aware of the sharp pine tang of his aftershave. The smooth line of his jaw, freshly shaved, and the firm moulded line of his lips. She wanted so to kiss him again. To be prepared this time, for the devastation of his mouth on hers—to revel in it, in fact.

  Yes, she had no doubt, loving this man would be an experience like no other. The surrender of mind and body to another, a giving over of the entire self to bliss.

  Ah, but afterwards. When the drug was withdrawn, leaving a soul craving for more . . . No, she must never succumb. He had to pay for what he’d done so callously to Lucy, and who knew how many others.

  ‘The wheel is on the table,’ Payne pointed out dryly, making the woman who’d moved over and several other gamblers sitting around the table, laugh softly.

  Her face flamed. Damn him! She’d been staring up at him like a moonstruck calf!

  She didn’t realise it, but nobody was actually laughing at her. In fact, the men at the table were all looking at her appreciatively, and envying the casino owner his companion, whilst the woman who’d been usurped at the table sighed enviously. An older woman, dripping in diamonds, looked positively misty eyed, sensing young love, and perhaps remembering past loves of her own. Even the croupier was watching his boss with puzzled eyes.

  But to Charmaine she felt as if she was suddenly the butt of everyone’s joke.

  ‘What do I do?’ she asked grimly, trying to smile, but wanting only to run and hide.

  ‘Well, you can bet on either black or red, but it doesn’t pay very well. Or you can bet on a specific number.’

  ‘Fourteen,’ she said promptly, the date of her birthday in February.

  ‘Red or black?’ he murmured, raising her clenched fist with one hand and kissing the back of her knuckles.

  ‘You’ve got to part with one of your chips sweetheart.’ he purred ironically. ‘Not even at The Palace do we bet with nothing but thin air.’

  Again a ripple of indulgent laughter came from the others and she abruptly opened her palm, allowing him to pick out a single chip. She wanted to curl her fingers back into a fist and . . .

  His eyes crinkled at the corners, and she could almost believe he could read her mind.

  ‘Black or red,’ he said again.

  ‘Black,’ she snapped. As black as her mood!

  He reached forward and placed the chip on the black fourteen square. The others had already made their bets, and with far less fuss, and the croupier spun the wheel.

  All eyes turned to the spinning centre piece, as if it held the answer to all of life’s mysteries.

  All except her own gaze. She knew the odds of the ball falling into her own slot were almost astronomical. Instead she looked up at the man beside her. ‘Do you ever play?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, but not here,’ he said softly. ‘There’d be no thrill,’ he explained at her puzzled look. ‘If I lose I haven’t really lost because the money returns to me. And if I win, I haven’t really won, because it’s my own money returning to me. No, when I gamble, I go to Monaco.’

  Charmaine smiled dryly. Of course he did. What was she thinking of, even asking him?

  ‘And what did you win there? A yacht? A beach house?’ A woman?

  Payne shrugged, a small secretive smile pulling at his lips.

  Yes, it was a woman, she thought. She wouldn’t put it past him. She wouldn’t put anything past him.

  A sudden wave of congratulation rent the tense air, and she turned back, confused, towards the table.

  ‘You win,’ Payne said, and her eyes shot to the small white ball, nestling in the black fourteen slot.

  ‘I won?’ she echoed numbly.

  The croupier, smiling, pushed across the table a small pile of chips.

  ‘Want to bet the whole lot on another roll?’ Payne asked, but she was already gathering them up.

  ‘Oh no,’ she said, laughing gaily. ‘That was pure beginner’s luck and I know enough to quit when I’m ahead.’

  ‘Do you,’ he said softly, something in his voice making her head rise sharply, her gaze cannoning into his own. ‘Do you really?’ he said again.

  Her lips fell open in shock as she realised she’d somehow wandered into a minefield.

  ‘The casino owner’s worst nightmare,’ Payne drawled softly. ‘A lucky gambler who knows when to quit.’

  Everyone laughed except Charmaine. Her heart was beating too loud, and was seemingly lodged in her throat, preventing even a minor giggle. His eyes were drowning her. The very air seemed thick with portent. What did he mean? What was happening?

  ‘In that case, I’d better get what I c
an out of it,’ Payne smiled wolfishly. ‘If you’re going to run off with the house profits, I demand a thank you kiss.’

  Charmaine blinked. He what?

  The crowd around the table burst into laughter and applause as Payne stepped closer, looped one arm around her waist and pulled her close.

  As his head bent over hers, he whispered wickedly, so that only she could hear. ‘This time, it’s my turn.’

  And then he was kissing her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  As she watched his head swooping low over hers, his eyes glittering with sardonic amusement at her obvious panic, Charmaine told herself that this time she would be ready for him. That this time his kiss would not totally undo her. There would be no humiliating loss of strength in her knees, no overwhelming pounding of her heart blotting out all other sounds.

  This time, it would be different. It had to be. Her very sanity depended on it.

  His lips touched hers and she stiffened. Vaguely, very vaguely, she was aware of the amused laughter of the other guests. She tried hard to hold onto that thought—that they were in a public place when all was said and done, and that he was only kissing her out of a sense of mischief. Surely these two facts were enough to keep her on the straight and narrow.

  But it was impossible. A moment later, his tongue gently teased her lips apart, and his fingers splayed against her back, radiating a sense of desire that seeped into her spine, turning her bones to mush. All too soon, and with a dreadful sense of deja vu, she felt her body flare into life, as if it were a firework, and Payne the lighted taper.

  She tried to push against him, but he was like rock—immovable, solid, and unyielding. She might have whimpered against his marauding lips, or perhaps some hidden sense of chivalry pierced his conscience, but just when she thought she was going to lose herself completely, he lifted his head. She thought she heard him drag in a ragged, shaken breath, but knew she must have been mistaken.