“Wagering on the devil’s number? Risky, even for you.”
His soft, deep voice caught Tessa Harrison’s attention, though her eyes never left the roulette table. She stiffened inside but worked hard not to show her fear. He shouldn’t be there.
She’d run and thought she would be safe. A mistaken calculation.
“If you add the numbers on the wheel,” Cormac McMann said, breath warm against her neck, “they sum to six-six-six.”
“Is that your number?” She edged her tone with ice, refusing to give ground even though he was very much inside her personal space.
“Is that meant to be amusing?”
“Take it any way you like.”
“You forget I know how deep inside you that demon lives. You already owe some dangerous men for this little habit of yours. Do you really want to add to your debt?”
The cold crawling through Tessa’s belly seeped into her limbs and then her thoughts, numbing her when she most needed to be swift and smart. Cormac was right, but she had no idea how he knew the truth. She’d been so careful in hiding it. Then again, he’d turned out to be nothing like she’d expected.
What else did he know about her? There were things she barely admitted to herself.
“Leave me alone, Cormac.”
“What, no banter?”
“I’m busy.”
A babble of voices rose around the table as a high roller put his chips on a single number. The room was crowded, the scent of alcohol and perfume heavy in the air. Light sparkled from the chandeliers, the diffuse radiance giving an aura of class. The décor promised wealth and discretion, as if money were no object to the patrons gathered there.
Tessa knew firsthand it was a lie. She put her small stack of chips down, refusing to bolt from Cormac’s presence. Prey ran and lost, and he was definitely a hunter. As he shifted closer still, she heard the rustle of his hand-tailored suit and smelled the warm musk of his skin. The man knew how to loom. At first, she’d thought it was sexy—who didn’t like a good alpha male? But now, it sent a flare of warning to the most primitive parts of her brain.
There were so many ways to gamble, and she’d tried most of them. This time, she was caught between a roulette table and a stone-cold killer. Tessa couldn’t seem to escape her bad choices.
The wheel spun one way, the white ball the other, flashing past black and red numbers in a dizzying, rattling blur. For an instant, she forgot Cormac, her chest aching with exhilaration and dread. Winning was glorious, but what Tessa craved was the dance between doom and wild hope. Nothing else made her blood pound the same way.
The ball dropped, bouncing and rolling until it landed on the red nine. Gasps and cheers rose from the crowd clustered around the table. Tessa’s stomach plunged like a falcon shot from the sky. She’d lost again, far more than she should have. Cormac must have seen her flinch, because his hand wrapped around her bare arm.
“Come away, Tessa.”
Cursing, she spun to face him. The movement forced Cormac to release her arm.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“You left me behind.”
“A girl can take a vacation, can’t she?”
“You ran.” His brows dipped into a scowl. “You had no right to vanish without a word.”
“I can go anywhere I like, whenever I want.” Her voice went from chill to Arctic, her fingers gripping her clutch to hide their tremor. You don’t know I saw you kill a man, but I did.
The look in his eyes said he understood her thoughts—though it was plainly impossible. Almost as unlikely as a murder that left absolutely no trace for the cops to find. They’d thought Tessa was—how had they phrased it?—confused. The only one who’d believed her was a private eye, and she still wasn’t sure where he fit in.
“Besides,” she said. “You left on a business trip.” You got on a plane, then made yourself scarce while the police bungled the investigation and called me a liar.
After that, all she’d wanted was to get away, so she’d taken what little money she had left and booked a last-minute cruise to Alaska on the Pacific Swan. It seemed her plan had backfired. Now she was broke and trapped on a ship with him.
“Do you want me to beg for another chance?” he murmured, tilting her face up with a finger beneath her chin.
Cormac was well over six feet tall and built like a bull, his chest and thick arms all muscle. Now his impressive physique was wrapped in a Savile Row evening suit, and the contrast of brute force and elegance was intoxicating. Tessa’s cocktail dress seemed little more than a wisp of aqua silk, barely covering her overheated flesh. The ship’s casino was packed with passengers, all wound to a fever pitch. It was more than the air conditioner could cope with.
Tessa couldn’t break Cormac’s gaze. His eyes were a shifting blue green that contrasted sharply with his deeply tanned skin. Dark brows swept across a broad forehead. It was a brutal face, softened only by a wide, sensual mouth. He’d tamed his dark hair into a tight braid that hung a few inches past his collar. Everyone else would think him an exotic prince on the prowl for entertainment. All she could think of was the flash of a knife in the dark.
“We’re done,” she said. “And begging doesn’t suit you.”
“Begging?” He sneered. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
She couldn’t stay there another moment. Unfortunately, she couldn’t avoid brushing against the hard curve of his chest and thigh as she pushed through the throng, her high-heeled sandals doing nothing for her balance. Cormac’s hand fastened in the fall of her hip-length hair, stopping her short. Tessa’s heart skipped, terror rising into her throat. He bent until his lips brushed her ear, his breath tangy with lime and salt. “Don’t think you can escape from me.”
Her gaze flicked across the crowd, wondering if she should call for help. She instantly discarded the notion. No one had believed her before. Why would this time be different?
Tessa stepped on Cormac’s foot, leaning in to drive her narrow heel through the butter-soft leather of his dress shoe. She felt the fine bones of his foot shift beneath the pressure. Cormac’s breath caught. Suddenly, she was free to turn her head.
“Back off,” she snapped, curling her lip.
They locked eyes, his darkening with fury. Cormac didn’t like to lose, but neither did she. It was the one trait they shared.
Tessa wasted no time slipping through the crowd. Her fingers tightened around her glittering evening bag, as if she needed something solid to hold on to. Not that there was anything of value in it besides her driver’s license and phone—the last of her emergency money was back at the roulette table. In a wild bout of magical thinking, she’d hoped to win enough to pay off her debts, or at least for her trip. Tessa cursed again, the words capturing the loss, herself, and all her failures.
Cormac. Her skin pebbled as she strode down the hall, each step putting distance between them. Although she was unlucky in love, this was a new low. To make things worse, the stress had sent her backsliding into old vices. She’d known better than to visit the casino—she’d even gone to therapy about her habit—but she’d slipped, convincing herself she’d only watch the other players. When she’d broken down and played a few games, she should have known enough to stop, yet she’d kept going anyway. Ironically, Cormac had done her a favor by interrupting her night.
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Getting to know the author:
"1. Who is your favorite character from your newest release? And why?"
Stokes, because who doesn't love a doomed hero?
"2. How do you balance work and home life? "
Not very well! I write into the wee hours sometimes.
"3. First Paranormal romance book you read? "
Does Anne McCaffrey count?
"4. Do you Google yourself? If so did you laugh or find it interesting?"
I did when I first started writing, but the novelty wore off.
"5. How do you select the names of your characters? "
They seem to come with them already - and it's often a fight to change them!
"6. If you didn’t write, what would you do for work? "
I have a day job in resource management. It's actually a good mix because writing is a business and business needs good writers.
"7. What is your writing Kryptonite? "
Stress. If I'm distracted and worried, it's hard to settle down and be creative.
"8. Who are you reading now? "
Mary Robinette Kowal - Ghost Talkers. I'm loving it.
"9. Do you have a special playlist for writing? "
I sometimes use brain.fm but I don't usually have music on while writing. I like silence so I can hear the flow of the words in my head.
"10. Last, if you could go back before you published your first book and do it all over again, would you? All the hard parts and easy strides."
Only if I could take a few lessons learned with me!
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