Page 20 of The Gamble


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“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.” He grins as his hand snakes around my waist, the sudden heat of his body about as unappealing as his cigarette. “Allow me.”

I don’t see a handle, but whatever he touches opens the door. However, rather than out, the car door whooshes vertically. I make a noise of surprise, though cover it with another meant to convey my indifference.

“Very impressive,” I mutter, patting his chest. “Who do you think you are? Batman?”

“I can be whoever you need me to be,” he says in a low, rumbly tone.

“What’s this?” Narrowing my eyes, I slide my fingers wider as I feel something hard under them.

“My pen.”

“It’s a bit big for a pen.”

“Thank you.”

“Urgh.” That tone again. I roll my eyes. “That’s no pen. It feels like a knife. Why would you be carrying a knife?”

“Maybe it’s to open my mail.”

“There’s no way I’m getting in that tin box if you’re carrying a blade.”

I barely have time to inhale when he slides his hand into his pocket, tossing the knife to the manicured shrubbery.

“That’s not safe. A kid could pick it up.”

“Not in here.”

I frown. He frowns. Then he frowns some more as pulls out his phone. He hammers out a text, the offers me his hand.

“Someone will come and get it,” he grates out.

Itsk, mostly to hide my delight. “Your employees must love you.”

Once inside, I straighten my dress over my legs as Raif leans his forearm on the roof, watching.

“It must take a lot of effort to maintain that level of contempt for the world.”

“Oh, it’s not for the world.” It’s very hard to maintain an air of superiority when I feel like I’m sitting on the floor. I try anyway.

“I guess that makes me special.” The corner of his mouth crooks wickedly.

He has the kind of bone structure that would make a young Ian Somerhalder sob. And those cat’s eyes. Creation was very generous to him, but while he might be driving Batman’s car, Raif seems more supervillain.

“Special, yes,” I say with a sigh. “Let’s go with that.”

The echo of his laughter resounds even as he closes the passenger door. As he rounds the car, I sit on my hands to stop myself from biting my thumbnail. He climbs into the driver’sseat and, with a deep, throaty purr I feel deep in my pelvis, the car springs to life.

The imposing gates open automatically and, as we reach the road, I notice a few straggling partygoers climbing into a black cab, mostly worse for wear.

“Where did Tod go?” I ask suddenly. Though he got me into this, I’d barely given him a second thought since I’d walked out of the room.After throwing my champagne glass at him.

Raif barely shrugs. “I guess he left.”

“How do I know you didn’t stuff him in a suitcase and chuck him in the Thames?”

“You’ll have to take my word for it.”

“How do I know you’re not going to do the same to me?”