Fire & Vice: Prisoner of Fortune, Fight or Flight, King's Command

Book One: Prisoner of Fortune

"Another card for the lady?"

Shania glanced down at her cards uneasily. What had possessed her to attempt a table at the casino? She'd never even touched a slot machine. Of course, she had never been one to balk at risks either. That could explain how she found herself dropping fifty dollars on one game of blackjack, sitting around a table with a stone-faced dealer and two other men, both older and likely vastly more experienced than herself.

She had to discover for herself what the game that had nearly gotten her husband killed was all about. Ex-husband, her mind whispered. Or soon to be ex-husband, to be more exact.

He was the reason she was here in the first place. She had promised him one last favour before walking away from her disaster of a marriage forever. She would find the owner of this casino and hand over the $2,000 her husband still owed.

Shania shivered in apprehension. Perhaps it was an unconscious attempt to put off the meeting that had lead her to try her luck at a table.

She glanced back at her cards. A queen and a seven. Seventeen.

Shania chewed her bottom lip and thought hard about what to do. She didn't really care about the fifty. She had fully intended to play until it was gone. But she wanted to prolong the moment before she would have to search out the casino owner , the man responsible for Aiden's brutal injuries.

"Another card, please," she asked quietly.

Ace.

Now she held eighteen in her hand. She thought that was high enough and decided on prudence. Lowering her cards a little, she looked up. The casino was brighter and flashier than she expected. It smelled nice too, a subtle blend of fresh citrus and spice. She looked curiously in the direction of the slot machines when she noticed a pair of dark, stern eyes on her. A man, staring intently in her direction.

Shania shifted in her seat and glanced discreetly over her shoulder, checking to see if he could be looking at someone behind her. No one nearby. She dared another glance at the man as the players to her right placed their bets.

He was tall. Very tall. And broad. And intimidating. Which was something, considering Shania's Amazonian proportions. She didn't often find men that could dwarf her. She stood just under six feet with a body that gave curvy a new name. A friend had once called her ass a ba-donk-a-donk. Whatever that meant. But it had sounded like a compliment, so Shania had taken it as such. She'd always felt comfortable in her own body.

The man was clearly interested in her, though she couldn't tell why. His gaze was not one of casual sexual interest, but intense and frightening. As though he recognized her. Which was impossible. He might know Aidan, but not her.

Oh god! Could he be the guy that had beaten up her husband? He certainly looked capable of such brutality.

Her breath caught in her throat as he approached the table, circling closer, like a hunter after his prey. He stopped a few feet away and continued to watch her. Shania barely noticed that she lost the hand. The man two seats over won. He beamed and scooped up the chips.

"Leave," said the man that had been staring at her so intently.

Shania jumped at the deep voice. She assumed he meant for her to leave, now that she'd lost. She glanced up with a small smile and made to vacate her seat when she realized he was no longer staring at her, but at the two other men she had been sitting with.

The winner got up good naturedly enough, while the other grumbled a bit first. She wondered why they would leave when some random guy told them to. Especially the guy who won. Perhaps the intimidating guy was a bouncer and was shutting the table down? He was certainly big and thick enough. She didn't think so though, with his crisp, well-cut shirt buttoned up his broad chest nearly to his throat and immaculate tailored jacket.

She stood, thinking he intended for her to leave as well.

She gasped as a heavy hand gripped her shoulder and held her fast, pressing her back into her chair. His long fingers felt like a brand, searing her skin through the thin fabric of her jacket. He stood next to her, so tall she had to tilt her head back to see him properly. Up close, the man was a walking nightmare and so sexy he took her breath away.

He didn't remove his hand immediately, but stood watching as the others left the table. She could feel the contact in every part of her body and shivered, wishing he would move away. She wanted to say something, but his imposing presence kept her silent.

He was likely around forty , maybe ten years older than her. His hair was black and cut very short. His eyes also looked black, with no colour to relieve the intensity of his stare. His skin was a medium shade of brown, slightly lighter than her own, and smooth, except for the scar that caused the corner of his eyelid to droop slightly. He was positively terrifying and absolutely the sexiest man Shania had ever laid eyes on.

He trailed his fingers across her back as he rounded her chair, coursing shivers down her spine. He turned the seat next to her to face hers and sat down, his long legs spread at the knees. One of his knees rested against the side of her chair, lightly touching her hip. Shania gasped at the sizzling contact and shifted away from him as subtly as she could.

"Deal," he said, not taking his eyes off of her.

The dealer nodded and began shuffling cards without hesitation.

Shania finally looked at the man next to her in earnest, trying to hold his gaze without dropping hers. God, but he was intimidating! "I lost my last round, I'm finished for the evening. I really do need to get going."

What had possessed her to come here in the first place? She certainly hadn't wanted to when Aiden had begged her to make the trip on his behalf. But he'd looked so pathetic in his hospital bed. And she'd always been a sucker when someone asked for help.

The stranger didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at her until she dropped her eyes.

"If you'll excuse me," she murmured, and made to stand.

"You lost the moment you walked into my casino, Shania."

She gasped, her eyes flying up to his.

He knew who she was! She tensed, preparing to sprint for the door and the relative safety of her car. He tensed as well, as though readying himself to leap on her if she chose to run.

"Stay," he growled at her. "If you attempt to leave, I will stop you, and then we'll have this conversation the hard way. You need to trust that you won't like that, Mrs. Galveston."

Shania shivered and gripped the edge of the table tightly, a wave of dizziness washing over her. His voice slithered down her spine, alternately chilling her and heating her from within. She was completely, bone-deep terrified of the dark man. She sensed the ruthless power that rolled off of him.

"What do you want?" She struggled to keep the edge of desperation from her voice.

He chuckled. Not a mirthful sound, but one of sinister intent.

"I want what belongs to me."

She looked at him, pushing her long dark hair over her shoulder in a nervous gesture, and tried to channel brave. "I assume you mean the money that my husband lost in a poker game here last week?"

Dark brows came down in a fierce frown. "You know about that?"

She nodded slowly, moistening her lips. "He told me, after after he was hospitalized. I have some for you its not everything, but it's all we have."

He inclined his head toward the cards the dealer placed in front of them. "Pick them up, Shania."

The way his voice captured her name told her just how deep she was in it with this guy. He allowed the hint of an accent to caress each syllable. Possibly Middle Eastern. She flipped her cards over with a shaking hand.

An ace and a five.

She looked at him from under her lashes and watched as he flipped over his cards with long, brown fingers.

A king and a nine.

"Ma'am?" The dealer inquired.

She nodded and he tossed a card down.

Nine.

The dark man inclined his head at the dealer, who tossed down another card. Risky, she thought.

Two.

"Twenty-one," said the dealer.

The man stood without moving his chair back, towering over Shania, his body touching hers. His fingers wrapped around her upper arm and he lifted her easily from her chair. She reached out for her purse and managed to hook one of the straps just as he began pulling her toward the back of the casino, as though she were somehow on board with whatever he had planned. She stumbled after him through a hallway toward a large door. He shoved it open and pushed her inside.

Shania stumbled and reached out to grab the back of a chair. Before her fingers could make contact, she was seized from behind and spun around. Hard hands gripped her arms.

"Why did you come here?" he demanded, eyebrows drawn over flashing dark eyes. "You don't belong in my casino."

Shania was suddenly very afraid. A huge, furious man , a debt collector , was confronting her in what could only be his private office, nowhere near help if she needed it. Considering she couldn't make out any noise from the casino, she suspected the room was soundproofed.

" I don't understand."

"Don't play innocent with me, woman," he growled, shaking her a little. "I met your greedy fuck of a husband. You clearly aren't here to gamble, because you've never played before tonight."

Again, the barest hint of an accent caressed the word woman, running shivers through her body.

When she opened her mouth to defend herself, he cut her off.

"You hold your cards like a baby, so don't pretend you belong here," he snarled. "The only other reason I can think for your presence in my casino is to make payment for your husband. And I thought I was pretty fucking clear while I was rearranging his internal organs. I want the money he owes plus interest, not some fucking housewife."

Shania stood in shocked silence as his merciless eyes bore into her. He thought she was here to barter herself to pay off her husband's debts? She could barely comprehend the possibility, let alone believe Aiden had suggested it to this brute of a man.

"Ex-husband," she managed to choke out. With shaking hands, she pulled her purse up between their bodies like a shield, unzipped it and reached in for the cash. Pulling it out, she tried handing it to him.

His eyes flickered down, barely touching on the cash, before returning to her strained face. She appeared to be in genuine shock. She brought a hand up between them and tried to push him back, a hand against his stomach. To her surprise, he actually took a small step back.

"I'm sorry, I think there's been some kind of mistake," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Please. Just take the money!"

She chewed on her lower lip and gripped the cash in a shaking fist, glancing up at him pleadingly.

He shook his head and asked in a more neutral tone, "Is it possible you have no idea, Shania, how truly despicable your husband is? What are you doing in my casino?"

"I just wanted to give you the money Aiden owes. And and I wanted to see the casino. What kind of a game , what kind of a place , could take away a person's life savings in just a few hours."

She straightened, pulling her shoulders back and owning her height, which still didn't touch his 6'4" frame. Her golden eyes glittered with something other than fear as she tilted her chin.

"You're worse than Aiden ever was, with absolutely no morals whatsoever," she said, growing suddenly bolder. "You take away people's livelihood's and then you crush them."

Instant fury washed over his face, but there was an edge of suppressed amusement as well. "The last person that insulted me well I can't remember the last person that insulted me. And that's for good reason. I run a tight club. Here I am law and order, God and villain."