She snorted.
Scott had left him his car to use while he was on his honeymoon. He opened the door for KT and then went around to get in. He could tell KT was nervous, so as soon as he pulled away from the curb, he took her hand and began to tell her about the man they were meeting tonight. By the time they arrived, she’d relaxed, only to tense up again as they reached the threshold.
Chance turned to her before ringing the bell and lifted her chin. “Thank you for stepping out of your comfort zone and doing this.”
“You’re
so
making this up to me.”
Her eyes flashed defiantly despite her nerves, and his heart swelled with emotion for her. He kissed her temple and said, “How about the first thing we do is get you a glass of wine?”
“Whiskey, and you’re on.” She reached forward and pressed the ringer.
The door opened, revealing Leif. Their host smiled, taking Chance’s hand and clapping his arm. “I was just talking about you, Chance. Come in. Glad you could make it.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” he replied stepping inside.
But Roger’s attention was already on KT. “Well, hello there. I’m Roger Leif.”
Lips set in a determined downturn, KT shook his hand. “KT,” she said simply.
“Can I take your wrap?”
For a moment, Chance didn’t think she’d give it up, but then she sighed with resignation and handed it over.
His jaw dropped. The back half was missing.
Roger was no less impressed. In fact, Chance wanted to take the shawl back to get the guy’s lecherous eyes off his girlfriend.
Instead, he smoothly stepped in front of her, blocking her from the man. “Which way to the bar?”
“Right in the living room.” Roger pointed the way, then craned his neck to look at KT. “I hope to see you more later.”
She rolled her eyes and strode in the direction Roger indicated. Once they were clear, she turned around with a glare. “I can feel you staring.”
“I can’t help it.” Her dress was a black sheath, simple, with the tiniest straps at the shoulders. In the front it scooped low, but it was all party in the back, dipping low to the top of her ass. “It’s nice.”
“It’s Bijou’s.”
“Remind me to thank your sister when I see her next.” He put his tongue back in his mouth and slipped an arm around her waist. “And it’s more like half a dress, though, for the record I’m not complaining.”
She glanced at him, suspicious.
“You look amazing. Really, truly amazing.” He brushed a hand down her spine, gratified at her shiver. “No bra, right?”
She looked at him like he was crazy. “That would have been like insult to injury.”
“You. Me. This dress in a pile on the floor.” He pushed her hair over her shoulder and kissed her there. “Later.”
“As if I needed more incentive to get this over with.” She took his hand. “Don’t look now, but I think that’s your cannibal over there, and she’s watching us.”
He glanced over where KT indicated. Sure enough, Tiffany watched him with irritation.
“Don’t leave me. She looks like she’d happily take me out if she got me alone.” KT used her thumb to wipe what he supposed was lipstick from his mouth. “What did you do to her to get her so worked up?”
“I wish I knew so I could be careful not to do it again.”
“I can’t really blame her. You’re some serious catnip, Nolan.” She patted his chest. “Where’s that whiskey you promised me?”
They walked to the bar, and the bartender gave them hefty triple pours. He sipped his, watching KT knock hers back and then ask for another. He smiled. “Am I going to have to carry you home?”
She shook her head as she took a more modest sip. “Can’t stand crowds and people staring at me.”
Of course she couldn’t. He felt a swell of love for her, that she willingly put herself through this for him. He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers right below his ring. “Thank you.”
Her brow wrinkled, and she opened her mouth to speak but then Roger and another couple were suddenly descending on them.
“Chance,” Roger said, slapping his shoulder again. “This is Steve Hall and his wife Leslie. Steve’s in finance, too. Chance is the poker player I was telling you about.”
“Good to meet you, Chance.” Steve smiled at him warmly. “Though I wish I’d met you before Roger. He’s been bragging about what a find you are.”
Aware KT had moved to stand a little behind him, Chance shook the man’s hand, instantly liking his firm grip and no-nonsense gaze. “I’ll have to remind him of that when we enter negotiations.”
They all laughed, and Chance took that moment to face Leif. “Roger, do you have a card on you? I had some ideas regarding that tech company we discussed at Scott’s wedding.”
“Of course.” Leif pulled out a card from his pocket. “It has my private number on it.”
Score. Relief flooded over him. Maybe the situation was redeemable. “Excellent. I’ll call you.”
Steve’s wife Leslie suddenly squinted at KT and said, “Aren’t you Anson and Lara’s daughter, Karma?”
He felt her freeze next to him. His instinct was to rescue her; he was about to pull her away, but she smiled stiffly and said, “I look a lot like her, don’t I?”
Leslie smiled. “You do. You must get asked that a lot.”
“It’s better than being mistaken for Lindsay Lohan.”
There was still tension at the edges of her mouth, so he took her hand. “If you’ll excuse us, this is our song, and my girl’s promised me a dance.”
“That’s so romantic.” Leslie looked at him like he was a prince. “I need to have Steve take pointers from you. We’ll arrange it later.”
He flashed a smile and led KT away.
“There’s no dance floor,” she murmured as she downed the rest of her whiskey, handing the glass to a passing waiter.
“No, but there’s open space here.” He whirled her into his arms and kissed her, partly to calm her but mostly because he couldn’t help himself. He moved her in time to the music. “This is Cole Porter.”
“Yeah.”
“My parents used to dance to Cole Porter.” He waited for the usual feeling of loss that accompanied thoughts of his family. He felt it, but it was bearable with KT in his arms. “Mom used to sing the words to Dad as they danced.”
“That’s sweet.” Under her breath, she hummed along with it.
He held her close, his eyes shut, knowing what his dad must have felt like.
Then the song changed, and KT stiffened.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She shook her head. “It’s just weird.”
“Dancing with me?”
“Yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “But to this song. I wrote it.”
He didn’t have to listen long to know she wasn’t singing it. “The recording isn’t yours.”
“Of course not. I told you I don’t sing.”
“I still think you should consider it. You have an amazing voice.”
“I don’t want to discuss this.”
“Now isn’t the time,” he agreed. “But I still think going indie is a good solution for you.”
She sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“It’s a smart, out-of-the-box option that’ll get your music out in the public, without you having to ever show your face. You can even build your mystique into the marketing and turn your aversion to appearing publicly into an asset. You’d make yourself exclusive.”
“Maybe,” she said reluctantly, not sounding convinced.
“You’d never have to leave your cottage,” he said with a wry grin. Then he sobered. “Think about it KT. You’d be playing by your own rules. You’d win.”
“Winning is important to you.”
“Everyone wants to win.” He lifted her chin. “There’s no reason you can’t have everything you want, KT.”
She didn’t look like she believed him, and that broke his heart. Then she stepped out of his arms. “I’m getting a whiskey. Want something?”
“I want you to play the piano for me,” he said, pulling her back.
“No.” She gave him a withering look.
“Play me for it,” he suggested in a sudden flash of brilliance. “Strip poker, winner takes all.”
Her gaze narrowed. “What happens when I win?”
“You can have whatever you want.” He looked her in the eye. “But if I win, you play the piano for me. Something you wrote.”
She swallowed audibly. Then she nodded grimly, as if she was making a pact with the devil. “Fine.”
“Let’s go.”
“Wait.” She dug her heels in. “What about Leif and the cannibal?”
“He saw me, and I got his card. I’ll give him a call tomorrow.” Some things were more important, and KT was one of those things. He led her through the crowd and out of the house.
He’d expected the whiskey to hit her by the time they arrived at her place, but the only noticeable sign of intoxication was her volume level and her unsteady steps, though he wondered how much of that was just the unfamiliar heels she had on.
At the door, she opened her purse, looking for her keys. “Damn it.”
He smiled as she kicked off her shoes and dumped them on the welcome mat. Sighing in relief, she unlocked the door and sauntered in. “You up for a nightcap?”
“I’m going to head out.”
“What about our game?”
No one else would have suspected she was tipsy, but he could tell because he knew her. That knowledge made him feel honored, protective, like he was trusted with a precious treasure. “We’re going to play tomorrow, when you’re cold sober.”
She pouted, waving a hand up and down her body. “And you’re leaving before you get some of this?”
She was adorable. He bit his lip to keep from grinning, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate his humor or being called adorable. Walking up to her, he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. “That will be mine tomorrow, after you play the piano for me.”
“In your dreams.” She wiggled out of his arms. “Bring your piggy tomorrow. I want a witness when I cream you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He tugged her back for a kiss and then grinned all the way home.
Chapter Eighteen
What had she done?
KT paced in front of her piano, her anxiety growing by the hour as it got later. She checked the time. When was Chance coming over?
What had she promised?
She gripped her hair and growled. In the sober light of day, she saw how foolish she’d been. Agreeing to a challenge by, basically, a professional poker player? She was going to lose.
Part of her wanted to break out the whiskey again. He said he wanted her sober, but if she wasn’t he’d probably still force her to play, and if she were a little sauced … Well, she’d have an excuse for screwing up.
She walked into the kitchen and pulled out her whiskey from the bottom shelf. Uncorking the top, she lifted it to swig out of the bottle—
And set it back down.
She couldn’t do it. He’d be disappointed in her, and that’d make her even more miserable.
She got her phone out and called him for the fifth time that evening. Just like every other time, his voicemail picked up. “How dare you not answer your phone,” she yelled at him. “When the hell are you coming here for this game? You’re a bastard for drawing it out like this. I take back all the nice things I’ve ever thought about you.”
She hung up. Then she called him again and added, “And you better not bring your pig to strip poker. How could you even agree to such an indecent thing?”
Ending the call, she tossed her phone onto the couch and paced some more.
Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on her door. She recognized the rapping as Chance’s.
Her heart flopped in her chest. Usually it was because of Chance, but this time she was positive it had to be nerves. Exhaling loudly, she stomped to the door and glared as she opened it.
He stood on her stoop, an ever-ready grin curving his delicious lips. His hair was damp, and he wore a T-shirt and jeans with flip-flops. He looked hot, damn him.
“Hello, Karma,” he said in his dark honey voice, kissing her lips softly as he walked inside. “I hope you’re ready to play the piano for me.”
“Don’t you frickin’
Karma
me.” She upped her glare. “Just because you’re kind of cute doesn’t mean you can get away with anything.”
He pulled on her ponytail. “I’m only kind of cute?”
He was mouthwatering, but she wasn’t feeling generous enough to tell him that. “Are we playing or are you going to torture me first?”
Chance brought her closer to him and whispered, with a delicate kiss below her ear. “I’ll torture you after, darling. Sweet, sweet torture, and you’ll beg for it.”
She shivered, knowing he was right, but no way was she going to admit it. Eyes narrowed, she said, “Hardly.”
“I left Ante Up at home, like you requested.” Taking a pack of cards out of his pocket, he moved to the coffee table in front of the couch and sat on the floor. “You were right. It’s totally inappropriate for junior to see us get it on.”
She snorted derisively, but on the inside a secret electric shock of anticipation shot up her spine.
“And to be fair to you”—he shook the cards out of their box and began to shuffle them—”I’m giving you a handicap.”
“What sort of handicap?” she asked suspiciously.
He grinned devilishly. “I’m not wearing underwear.”
Her gaze dropped to his pants involuntarily. She’d given herself a handicap, too—she was wearing the underwear he’d given her with the engagement ring. “Let’s just get this over with.”
He tipped his head and looked at her. “Then sit down, sweet pea.”
She plopped inelegantly across from him and held her hands out. “I’ll do the first round.”
He handed her the deck and sat back.
When she shuffled the cards, a few flew out of her hands. Cursing under her breath, she added them back in and quickly dealt their cards. “Texas Hold’em, minus the betting?”
“Yes.”
Nodding grimly, she dealt their two private cards and then flipped four cards all at once. She looked at her cards. She perked up when she saw she had two pairs.
She glanced at Chance’s face. He might as well have been wearing sunglasses, his gaze was so shuttered. He gazed at her steadily, waiting.
Good—his hand must suck. She gleefully gave him another card before adding the last card to the table.
She had a full house.