He pressed a kiss to her forehead, smoothing back her hair, and sudden tears pricked her lids. Disgusted by her weakness, she pushed the emotion back and concentrated on conversation to keep her mind strong. “Where did you come from?”

His chest rumbled with laughter. “Atlantic City. I worked as a dealer there for years, but my brother wanted me in Vegas. A job opening came up with Castillo Resorts so he finally convinced me to take it.”

“Hmm, who’s your brother?”

“Rick Steele.”

She picked her head up. “I know Rick. He’s a friend of Jackson Castillo. That’s how I found out about Madame Evangeline. I knew I’d be playing this week and Jackson gave me the contact information.”

“Hmmm, interesting. My brother set this up for me, too. What were you looking for, Sloane?”

A man to make her forget she always had to be in charge. A man to cuddle her and make her feel feminine and cared for. A man to challenge her mind and make her spirit soar. Everything a woman wanted and dreamed about and everything a woman doubted she’d ever find.

“I moved to Vegas about a year ago since most of my work took place in tournaments around the city. I have a poker tournament this week and I needed to blow off steam. I don’t usually do one-night stands, though you probably won’t believe me. But I wanted company on this tour, and I wanted to be safe. Madame Eve’s service seemed to fit the bill.”

“I do believe you.” His warm voice steadied her and she relaxed. She sensed when people told her something just to appease her, but he only spoke truth since the moment she met him. “I guess it’s hard to believe such an extraordinary woman would need an outsider to keep her company.”

She laughed. “I’m a workaholic, and I’m careful who I get involved with. I guess you could say I’m extremely picky.” She gazed into stormy eyes and looked for her own answers. “I’d say the same about you. Looks to me like you don’t need help finding company.”

His lips kicked up in a smile. “I’m picky, too. Haven’t found what I’m looking for, so my brother wanted to step in and help.”

“Help get you laid?”

He rolled to loom over her. His eyes glinted with something she couldn’t name. “Help me find the one.”

Naked want rose her throat and strangled her. She pushed it back with her usual ruthlessness and tried to seem casual. “With a talented mouth like yours, I’d say you’ll find her.”

“Yes. I think I will.”

She squirmed under the intense heat of his stare as his face changed. Sensual demand gleamed from his eyes and his mouth hardened into a thin line. “Ready for round two?”

Her heart thundered like a pack of thoroughbreds out of the gate. “I don’t think—”

“I do.” His mouth came down on hers with rough command. She fought back for a moment before giving in to the delicious feeling of being conquered and forced to release control. He nibbled at her bottom lip, her jaw, while his hands massaged her breasts and his fingers tweaked her nipples to hard points. Her clit swelled and pulsed with new demand, as if her last orgasm only made her more susceptible to every lick of his tongue and touch of his fingers.

“You taste delicious,” he growled, working his way down her body. “I want to know every pleasure point. Every weakness. Does this feel good?” He pinched her nipples. The quick pain shot straight to her pussy and juices trickled down her leg. “Tell me,” he demanded.

“Yes.” She forced the words out.

“And this?” His teeth pulled and bit her sensitive nipple. His tongue swirled as his hands massaged her ass, slipping one finger into her crack. Heat burned and licked her nerve endings at the forbidden touch, and she closed her eyes. Her muscles clenched in pleasure and the need for deeper penetration.

She groaned but he made her say the word aloud. “Yes, God, yes, more.”

He slid lower, kissing her stomach, nibbling the crease of her thigh. His fingers buried into the tangle of dark hair and exposed her inner lips to his gaze. “Do you like me looking at your pussy?” he asked. One finger slid through the wetness. “Open more for me. Wider. Yes, like that. How does that feel?”

The heat built to an excruciating agony, fogging her mind. She had no clear thought except to give him anything he wanted. “I like it. I feel exposed, but I like knowing you’re looking at me.”

“You should see how gorgeous you are. All wet and pink and swollen. Begging for just a flick of my tongue to make you come against my mouth again. Do you want to come again?”

“Oh, God, Roman.”

“Say it. Tell me what you want or I won’t give it to you.”

She plunged over the personal edge of rational thought and sanity and gave him the world. “Please put your cock in me. Please fuck me and make me come.”

She caught a flash of a wolf smile and he reared up to gaze down at her, open and exposed for his viewing pleasure. “Good girl.”

He slipped on a condom with quick motions, grasped her legs high in the air, and plunged.

She sucked in her breath at the fullness of his cock. Panic hit her full force, and she struggled to back off from the pressure of him filling her. He called her name with sharp demand, and she glanced up, panting hard, and met gray-blue eyes.

“You can take me. Give yourself a moment to relax, baby.”

She shook her head and bucked, but he held firm and her body softened. Unconsciously, she lifted up to seek more of him and he murmured in satisfaction, rubbing and plucking her breasts until she moaned for more. Slowly, he pulled out then slid back in to the hilt, setting an easy pace that only teased the fire and didn’t come close to giving her what she craved. She begged for more with her eyes, and her hips and her moans, but he gave her nothing else but the torturous slow pace that kept her mercilessly at the edge of climax and moved her no closer.

Raw frustration and temper nipped at her nerve endings. With a low curse, she sank her teeth into his shoulder since her hands were helplessly tied to the bed. He gave a low laugh which only made her angrier.

“Isn’t this what you asked me for?”

“More. Harder.”

He increased his pace and pressure, but her clit burned for friction. She squeezed her eyes shut in sensual agony. “Damn you, give me what I want.”

“All of it, baby. Tell me.”

“Fuck me hard! Take me with your cock and make me come, damn it!”

“Good girl.”

He slammed into her and her heels dug into his back as she reached. He grasped her hips and set a demanding, bruising pace, pushing her closer. Heat shimmered deep within. Again. And again. And—

She shattered in a thousand pieces with nothing but the ties holding her to earth. With a hoarse shout, he came right afterward, but her body continued to milk him hard. Moisture gathered behind her eyelids at the sheer release she never experienced, and she wondered if she’d ever be the same again.

He slumped over her and gathered her close, untying her wrists from the bed. With a sigh of pleasure, she wrapped her arms around him and slid into sleep.

Chapter Three

“Hmmm, what time is it?”

He laughed. “It’s Vegas, baby. Does it matter?”

“You’re right. I’m parched.”

“Let me get you some water.” He rose from the bed and made his way to the elaborate wet bar. He put a few cubes in a crystal glass, poured Pellegrino and added a slice of lemon. He brought it back to the bed and watched her gulp, then slump back into the pile of down pillows.

He took her glass, re-filled it, and retrieved one for himself. He sat on the bed beside her and watched her plump lips suck on an ice cube. His cock grew hard as he imagined her sucking him off. She lifted a brow.

“Do you ever rest?”

“Not with you around. Tell me about poker.” He watched her face, wondering what had spooked her in the past. Or who.

“What do you want to know?” she asked lightly.

“Not many little girls grow up to be world renowned poker players. How did you get involved with the business?”

He wondered if she’d tell the truth or lie. His gut screamed she wasn’t afraid of the truth, and reminded him of a fierce warrior—forever loyal once she belonged to a man. He wondered how many men she’d claimed, and jealousy burned like a shot of whiskey.

“I grew up as a vagabond. My mom took off when I was young and my dad raised me. Unfortunately, my dad gambled and ran con jobs for a living. He loved it all: horseracing, slots, tables. He couldn’t drag me to the casinos until I turned legal, but he gave me an education early.”

“How so?”

She shrugged elegant shoulders and stared at the ice in her glass. “He taught me how to pickpocket. How to use my age to distract a mark. Got me a fake ID, dressed me up, and took me into the casinos.”

The reality of her childhood struck him hard in the gut. “What about school?”

“I went here and there. Mostly, I educated myself. I became obsessed with books—all kinds. Classics, poetry, business. I started reading psychology and found the art of reading people. Ticks, facial expressions, how people lied. I graduated with a street education that served me well.” She hmphed in disdain. “Stupid people spend thousands for a degree when they can get anything they need free. Anyway, something clicked with poker. I loved math, and had a photographic memory. I also got my father’s skill.”

He raised an eyebrow in question. She gave a twisted smile. “The luck of the Irish, of course. Unfortunately, my dad liked the drink as much as the gambling.”

“What happened?”