Billion Dollar Beast - Olivia Hayle Page 0,22
wants hot cocoa?” Skye asks hopefully. She’s standing by the kitchen counter with a mug in her hands. Beside me, Cole is sitting with his whiskey, and in the couch opposite, Nick with his brandy.
I raise my glass of white wine. “I’m sorry, but I’m good.”
“Seven more months of being the odd one out,” she declares. “A small price to pay for an eternity of happiness, I suppose.”
Cole snorts. “Remember to remind him of that when he’s throwing temper tantrums as a teenager. ‘You were supposed to be our eternity of happiness!’”
“But, you know, no pressure,” I add.
Skye laughs. “We’re screwing up this parenting thing already, and we’re not even parents yet!”
“So we’ve nowhere to go but up,” Cole says. “Just the way I like it.”
From the couch opposite ours, Nick swirls his brandy in his glass. He’d been quiet most of the dinner, his attention most often on the falling snow outside of the giant windows. Now, his gaze seems locked on the roaring fire.
The question hovers on the tip of my tongue. What are you thinking about? Anyone else, I would have simply asked. Anyone else, and I would have given them a smile and a teasing joke. But he would never welcome it and I can’t bring myself to ask it.
“What time is the helicopter ride tomorrow?”
“We leave here at nine,” Cole says. “You’re both joining, right?”
“Absolutely,” I say. The tour he’s booked is to a nearby glacier. The helicopter will land in the remote wilderness, a guide walking us along the ever-evolving landscape of ice and snow. Frozen slides, miles-deep crevices and deep-blue ice caves.
Nick nods too. “I’ll be there.”
It’s not long before Cole and Skye decide to retire for the evening. We’ll play charades tomorrow, Skye promises me, grabbing one last brownie.
“For the road,” she tells me. “It’s a big house, you know. I might get hungry on the way.”
Nick doesn’t move, and caught in indecision, I stay where I am, seated on one of the large couches with my legs folded up beneath me. The only sound in the living room is the crackling from the fireplace.
I make a decision. Maybe it’s a stupid one, but I’m drawn in by the remoteness of his gaze, by the ridiculous confidence his ogling yesterday has given me.
I get up to fetch the deck of cards from the dresser nearby. Nick watches me as I put it resolutely on the table between us. “I think you owe me a round of poker.”
Nick’s eyes slide from the cards to mine. There’s something burning in them, and I don’t know if it’s irritation or excitement or a deliciously heady mix of the two.
“You truly haven’t forgotten that.”
“Of course I haven’t.”
“Nor forgiven me, it seems.” His voice grows gruffer. “I told you, I was doing you a favor.”
“Play a game with me and I will.” I split the deck in two with a flourish. This, I know how to do, courtesy of my brother. I begin to shuffle with practiced moves.
Nick watches me work in silence. “We have no chips,” he says. “No stakes at all. That’s hardly poker.”
“We could raise them,” I say. “Make it more… interesting, if playing for my forgiveness isn’t interesting enough for you.”
The harsh line of his jaw works. “You’re not suggesting what I think you are.”
“Sure I am.”
“Strip poker?”
My heart is beating wildly against my ribs, but my hands remain steady. “Yes. A heads-up game, either five-card draw or Texas hold ’em. Come on. You owe me one, remember?”
He takes a deep sip of his brandy. Silence is heavy between us. “Fine,” he says finally. “Five-card draw.”
“All right.” I shuffle the cards one last time before dealing five cards to each of us. He’s wearing a pair of dark trousers and a gray sweater—two major articles of clothing, then.
“We’re evenly matched,” I comment.
His eyes drift over my form in one impassive sweep. Carefully controlled, with none of the heat I’d seen yesterday.
“So it would seem.” His voice has deepened. “You’re welcome to start the betting.”
“You’re that sure of yourself?”
“Perhaps.”
I smile down at the two cards I’ve flipped. Two tens. Not bad. “My sweater is my ante.”
“So is mine.”
I don’t exchange any of my cards before the river is dealt. He does, however, the back of his hand coming into view as he reaches for another card.
“Let’s see, then…” I deal out the river and we both turn our hands. I have three tens, and he has a pair.
“Whoops,” I drawl. “Seems like I won