Hitting the Mark. Jill Monroe

lights flickered, people alternately cheered and groaned. At one time, this had been home. Not legally, since she wasn’t of age then, but of course that hadn’t mattered to her father.

      “What’s your pleasure?” Eric asked. Sure enough, no one had stopped them.

      “Poker,” she said. “And not Texas Hold ’Em.”

      “Follow me.” He set her up in a chair at a table with quite a bit of action. All amateurs. The loud man who’d already had too much to drink. The retired ladies who were dropped off at the door by a bus. The serious engineer type who’d probably watched the “how to gamble” video up in his hotel room a dozen times.

      Easy pickin’s.

      But not today. In thirty minutes she was done. Sliding off the chair, she found Eric hanging back a few feet away.

      “I lost all your money,” she admitted.

      His eyes burned dark. “I don’t care,” he replied, staring at her lips.

      Her skin burned sensitive and hot. It felt good not even having the urge to cheat. It felt better knowing Eric wanted her.

      He nodded toward a hallway that looked as if it led to the administrative offices, and she fell into step beside him.

      “So tell me, how would you have cheated back then?” he asked.

      Danni scanned the table again. “Easy. Small conservative bets. Just enough to keep the cards flowing and my money going. When I hit a face card, I mark it with my fingernail, or bend the card ever so slightly. Enough times through, I’ll have a good idea who has what and bet accordingly. Most people think cheating at cards is all about the right card, and yes, for the most part it is. But don’t discount the importance of bet management.”

      Eric chuckled deep in his throat and the sound shot a thrill to her. “Who’d have thought hearing how you could rob me would be so hot.”

      “Aha. I’ve been waiting for that,” she told him with a smile. Yes. It was exactly the confirmation she needed to hear. Eric wanted her, like she wanted him.

      “You have a problem with men only wanting you for prowess at theft?” he asked, his voice teasing.

      “Only from the good boys.”

      “I’m not so good,” he said, his eyes becoming darker.