He glanced back at the poker table and bristled when he saw Anker place his hand close to hers. Another inch, and they’d be touching.
He clenched his jaw. “She seems. Different—tonight.”
Charles sighed. “She does that sometimes, puts on a tough femme fatale persona to bully that fragile part of her into a corner and silence it altogether.”
Rocco turned to him. “Fragile?”
“Yes. That,” Charles said, pointing at Nico as she tilted her shoulder and slivered her eyes, “tells me she’s feeling vulnerable.”
“Why?”
“I think she’s fallen for a man.”
Rocco felt his heart thud heavy and fast in his chest. Did he mean she’d fallen for Ian Anker?
“That frightens her,” Charles said. “I might understand why, if that were the man she’d fallen for.”
“Do you mean Anker?”
Charles nodded. “It’s not him. Though it doesn’t really matter. She can’t find it in herself to trust any man. More than that, she can’t trust herself. Not when it comes to matters of the heart—love—I mean, romantic love. I suppose it’s understandable—given her past. You should know that about her.”
“Wait? What? Why should I know that?”
“Wow!” Charles exclaimed. “How much do you suppose is in that kitty?”
Rocco turned to see more people crowding round the table. Now there were only three of them left in the game.
“Maybe I should try to stop her,” he said.
“She knows what she’s doing.”
“How can she? She can’t understand what she’s risking.”
“Trust me. She can. And does. Question is—do you?” Charles waved at someone behind Rocco. “Oh, there’s Mateo.” He placed his hand on Rocco’s arm. “She won’t come unless she thinks you want her to. And you’ll have to hit her over the head with a two-by-four to get that message through her thick skull. I hope to hell you’re not the same and you get my meaning.” He patted Rocco’s arm before walking away.
When Rocco looked back at the table, Nico and Anker were the only two left in the game. He weaved his way through the crowd and positioned himself directly opposite her. But she had yet to look his way.
“It’s your bet, Mr. Anker,” the dealer said.
Anker held up his finger as his crystal and cobalt-blue eyes rested on Rocco. The corners of his mouth slithered up his cheeks. He put his arm on the back of Nico’s chair as he turned to her. And this time, he didn’t whisper.
“That doesn’t really interest me,” he said, indicating the large kitty on the table.
Nico turned.
She sees me now.
He stared back at those dark eyes. And then his eyes drifted to Anker. He fisted his hands, seeing that grin sliver up Anker’s cheeks. He wanted to smack it off the prick’s face.
Anker leaned in and whispered something in Nico’s ear.
Rocco watched her face, looking for something in her eyes, anything that might signal some kind of reaction to whatever he was whispering. But he got nothing.
“All right,” she said nonchalantly.
“So, we agree to the terms?”
“We do.”
