you?”
“It’s a personal code of mine to only lose to the most beautiful women,” Charlie admitted.
“So, you come here a lot?” she asked. She chomped a piece of gum and winked at the dealer as he passed out their cards.
Charlie tossed a glance to the stage where two exotic dancers did a little bump and grind against each other. “No,” he admitted. “This is my first time.”
“The Black Diamond isn’t just a strip club, ya know.”
Charlie raised a brow.
“It’s some of the best damn poker in Vegas. These guys—” she gestured to the men around the table “—some of the best amateurs around.”
“Hear! Hear!” a man barked from the other side of the table.
“So you’re a regular?”
The smile dropped from the woman’s face. The man next to her tipped his cowboy hat to cover his features but it didn’t cover his chuckle.
“Do you know the guy who runs this place?” Charlie asked her.
Another chuckle from the cowboy. Charlie spared him a glance but returned his attention to the woman.
“You could say that.” She turned her attention to her cards, indicating the conversation was over.
“When could I find him here do you think?”
“Why? Spencer owe you money?” the cowboy asked.
“Not exactly,” Charlie said cautiously.
“He sleep with your girlfriend?” the guy across the table offered.
Charlie lowered his voice so only the blonde could hear. “Sounds like he doesn’t have the best reputation,” he murmured.
“Don’t believe everything these hacks tell you,” she said softly.
Charlie nodded, understanding when to push and when to pull back. It was a skill that came from years of razzing guys at the poker table.
Charlie finished the hand, then folded the next early. He slipped a few chips to the dealer before standing. He’d only just turned away when the blonde grabbed him.
Charlie dropped his gaze to where her long, manicured fingers had shackled his wrist. Her bare arms were thin and bronzed. He knew her type—looking for a sugar Daddy at a poker table. He didn’t have the heart to tell her she was going about it all wrong. The men here didn’t want to take care of her. They wanted to screw her and go home. There was a time he would have wanted to as well. “Can I help you?” he asked.
She dropped her chin and looked up at him so she was looking through her lashes. “I know who you are,” she whispered. “You were pulling your punches with this bunch, weren’t you?”
“That’s a flattering assumption.” He gave her the signature Charlie ‘The Devil’ Singleton smile. He could take her back to his suite, but why bother? She’d just want him to play the part of the womanizing bad boy when he’d much rather be himself. The idea of how the night would play out bored him, had him as weary as a dull, thudding headache. “Good night.”
He headed up toward the exit, not bothering to cash in his chips. He’d use the same pile tomorrow.
As he worked his way through the crowd toward the exit, he tossed a final glance over his shoulder. On the stage, a woman wearing a black thong and pasties wrapped her body around a pole. Men from the edges of the stage reached their hands in her direction, greedy for the opportunity to tuck a bill in her g-string.
Charlie took a cab back to his hotel, where he was flexing his bank account for two weeks in a high roller penthouse suite. Charlie would have as soon stayed in one of Grand Escape’s basic rooms, but his agent had insisted that part of Charlie’s image control must be continuing to live as he had before. Sponsors didn’t want to put their name on some washed-up, old-news player, so Charlie had to do everything in his power to maintain the image of the carefree bad boy he’d been for so many years.
When he arrived at the hotel, Charlie handed the driver his fare and a generous tip. He nodded to the doorman and winked at the girl behind the front desk. Everyone at Grand Escape knew him and treated
“It’s a personal code of mine to only lose to the most beautiful women,” Charlie admitted.
“So, you come here a lot?” she asked. She chomped a piece of gum and winked at the dealer as he passed out their cards.
Charlie tossed a glance to the stage where two exotic dancers did a little bump and grind against each other. “No,” he admitted. “This is my first time.”
“The Black Diamond isn’t just a strip club, ya know.”
Charlie raised a brow.
“It’s some of the best damn poker in Vegas. These guys—” she gestured to the men around the table “—some of the best amateurs around.”
“Hear! Hear!” a man barked from the other side of the table.
“So you’re a regular?”
The smile dropped from the woman’s face. The man next to her tipped his cowboy hat to cover his features but it didn’t cover his chuckle.
“Do you know the guy who runs this place?” Charlie asked her.
Another chuckle from the cowboy. Charlie spared him a glance but returned his attention to the woman.
“You could say that.” She turned her attention to her cards, indicating the conversation was over.
“When could I find him here do you think?”
“Why? Spencer owe you money?” the cowboy asked.
“Not exactly,” Charlie said cautiously.
“He sleep with your girlfriend?” the guy across the table offered.
Charlie lowered his voice so only the blonde could hear. “Sounds like he doesn’t have the best reputation,” he murmured.
“Don’t believe everything these hacks tell you,” she said softly.
Charlie nodded, understanding when to push and when to pull back. It was a skill that came from years of razzing guys at the poker table.
Charlie finished the hand, then folded the next early. He slipped a few chips to the dealer before standing. He’d only just turned away when the blonde grabbed him.
Charlie dropped his gaze to where her long, manicured fingers had shackled his wrist. Her bare arms were thin and bronzed. He knew her type—looking for a sugar Daddy at a poker table. He didn’t have the heart to tell her she was going about it all wrong. The men here didn’t want to take care of her. They wanted to screw her and go home. There was a time he would have wanted to as well. “Can I help you?” he asked.
She dropped her chin and looked up at him so she was looking through her lashes. “I know who you are,” she whispered. “You were pulling your punches with this bunch, weren’t you?”
“That’s a flattering assumption.” He gave her the signature Charlie ‘The Devil’ Singleton smile. He could take her back to his suite, but why bother? She’d just want him to play the part of the womanizing bad boy when he’d much rather be himself. The idea of how the night would play out bored him, had him as weary as a dull, thudding headache. “Good night.”
He headed up toward the exit, not bothering to cash in his chips. He’d use the same pile tomorrow.
As he worked his way through the crowd toward the exit, he tossed a final glance over his shoulder. On the stage, a woman wearing a black thong and pasties wrapped her body around a pole. Men from the edges of the stage reached their hands in her direction, greedy for the opportunity to tuck a bill in her g-string.
Charlie took a cab back to his hotel, where he was flexing his bank account for two weeks in a high roller penthouse suite. Charlie would have as soon stayed in one of Grand Escape’s basic rooms, but his agent had insisted that part of Charlie’s image control must be continuing to live as he had before. Sponsors didn’t want to put their name on some washed-up, old-news player, so Charlie had to do everything in his power to maintain the image of the carefree bad boy he’d been for so many years.
When he arrived at the hotel, Charlie handed the driver his fare and a generous tip. He nodded to the doorman and winked at the girl behind the front desk. Everyone at Grand Escape knew him and treated
Similar Books
