Gillian rolled her eyes and pushed Kin's hand off of her leg. She then looked at John who was hungrily licking his lips as he smiled at her. "Tell me, kitten, you seem unafraid of my Asian mate. Since we know you're clearly not stupid, are you hiding a giant pair of balls under that dress?"
"You tell me, John. You were the one under there earlier. What did you see?" Gillian shot back as she seductively smiled at the Brit. As the men lightly chuckled, Gillian said, "Sorry, but Kin doesn't scare me. I've dealt with men like him my entire life. He's nothing more than a bully."
"I'll drink to that!" Benito laughed as he held up his shot glass to the rest of the table. As Kin shot him a heated look, the Italian looked at Gillian and said, "Lift your glass, love. It's tradition that we down a shot of Patrick's homemade Irish whiskey before we start our game. Salute!"
"Salute!" Gillian replied before downing her shot.
An hour later, the beautiful American woman laughed loudly as Patrick and John shared a tale about a recent business meeting. She was feeling quite toasty and was on her third glass of wine, not to mention the shots she had shared with the men this evening. Gillian had to admit, if only to herself, that she was having a great time! John and Patrick both had a boyish charm that was sweet and endearing. Their smiles and good mood were infectious and very arousing. She wanted these two men even more than she had earlier. They made sure that she was the central focus of their attention and conversation. John had made every effort to include her, and she could tell he was making an effort to get to know her. Too bad Gillian wouldn't see either man after tonight, because she could see herself easily falling in love with a man like John.
"I'm out!" Benito said in defeat, his eyes roaming over the American.
"Shit, me too!" Kin said.
"Fuck!" Patrick exclaimed as he threw his cards down on the table. "You have to be cheating tonight, Johnny. There is no fucking way you are that lucky, you bastard."
"I'm not the only one winning tonight, Patty," John replied as he cocked his brow at Gillian, who was looking at her cards. "You play poker quite well, kitten. Who taught you how to play?"
"Mr. Dauphin," Gillian said before taking a sip of wine. "When I was about fifteen and living on my own, there was a bar where men would gather to play poker on Saturday night. Mr. Dauphin and his wife knew I was homeless and living in an old abandoned camper, so they let me work there a couple days a week and paid me under the table. He taught me how to play, and we made a small fortune off hustling strangers who came in. I'm not proud of it, but it kept food in my belly."
"Where the fuck was your family?" John asked, narrowing his eyes in anger. Who the hell let a vulnerable fifteen-year-old girl live in squalor by herself? "Surely, you had someone who could have helped you."
"Sorry to disappoint you, but I had no one," Gillian said as she cast her eyes downward. She didn't like the way the men were looking at her. More than anything, she hated the pity she saw in their eyes. "I told you I left my uncle's house at fourteen. He was all the family I had, and that's not saying much. When I split, I had nothing, but that was better than getting the shit beat out of me all the time. The camper was not much, but it was shelter from the elements. I was used to living in squalor when I lived with my uncle, so the camper was no different. I'm not ashamed of it. It made me who I am today. Not all of us had the pleasure of growing up with a silver spoon in our mouths."
"A silver spoon?" Patrick shouted as he shoved the chair back and stood up. "Who the hell do you think you're talking to, sweetheart? You clearly don't know shit about Johnny or me!