Behind Closed Doors (Behind Closed Doors #1)(41)

“You’re sure?”

“Go play.”

“All right.” But he doesn’t move, those green eyes of his probing mine, a lock of light brown hair brushing his brow and begging for my fingers to tame it, and if it weren’t for the prying eyes, I’d give myself the freedom to do just that.

“I’ll be tied up for about an hour doing small segments meant to be inserted in the show at the right times, and then playing the first cycle. You can leave and come back, as long as you have your badge. There’s a Starbucks in the casino, and a bakery.”

“Can I stay and watch you film your intros?”

“You can if you want, but I doubt you’ll be able to hear much.”

“I do want,” I say. “I’d choose watching you over Starbucks in a heartbeat.”

There is a flicker of something in his eyes, and I think this pleases him, but I can’t be sure. “If you head down to the left,” he says, motioning to a barrier wall, “you should be in about the right position to stand and watch.”

“I’ll head that way, then.”

“All right then,” he says softly. “I’ll see you soon, baby.”

He turns and walks away, and I find myself watching him, and watching how other people watch him. There is just something about this man that has nothing to do with the sexy endearment I seem to like, and his good looks. An air of confidence and control, which I now know he values, for certain. But there is more. Charm and intelligence radiates from him. And I’m reeling just a bit at how I’ve gone from shoving him out of my door to wanting him close, and, it seems, closer yet.

Whatever is or isn’t happening between Jason and me, though, right now isn’t the time to analyze it or let my mind go to blackmail and storage units. Not when Jason’s already crossed the barriers to the players’ area. The crowd is already starting to grow, with numerous people gathering at the spot where I want to watch him film. And I do want to watch him. I’m excited to see this tournament and him in action.

Hurrying forward, eager to enjoy my first-ever poker tournament with one of its stars, I make my way in that direction, watching as Jason has several officials escort him toward a group of cameras in front of the tables. I take a few more steps and suddenly a big body is in front of mine, halting me abruptly. When I tilt my chin up to find Jason’s manager, Daniel, standing there, I know it’s intentional.

“Why did I know you’d be here?” he asks, his gray tie now missing, his gray pinstriped suit still in place from hours before.

“I’m glad you knew,” I say. “Because I sure didn’t expect to be here.”

His too blue eyes narrow on me, glistening like freshly sharpened blades on a knife. “Let’s go talk,” he says. “In private.”

“This is as private as I’m getting with you.” I’m pretty sure that with his good looks and arrogance, he doesn’t hear that too often, but I bet plenty of women regret not saying it later.

“If you didn’t have something to hide, you wouldn’t say that.”

“If you weren’t an *, I wouldn’t say that,” I snap back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I try to step around him but he moves with me.

“Whatever game you and Stephanie are playing—”

“Game?” I ask, everything about this man reminding me of why I don’t like the word or experience, while Jason all but made me forget the same. “Games are for poker players, which I am not. And neither are you, so step aside.”

“Prove you don’t like games. Stop playing them and just tell me what the hell you and Stephanie want.”

Tell him, not Jason. I don’t know why that hits me in all kinds of wrong ways, but it does. “I don’t know Stephanie. I don’t know you. I know Jason.”

“You’re going to know me, sweetheart. A whole lot better than I’ll let you know Jason. Mark my word, because it’s golden. Watch yourself. I am.” He steps around me.

I suck in air that can finally find my lungs. He doesn’t trust me, and the problem with that is he’s going to say that to Jason. Over and over again. And Jason knows him. Jason barely knows me. He won’t know me, but I don’t want Daniel to turn us into enemies. He’s doing nothing but putting Jason on edge, and pushing him toward actions better not served.

Trying to shake the encounter off, I walk down the stairs and make my way to the barrier, squeezing in between several people. I find Jason instantly, lined up with the other five players, and despite the cameras and the people around him, his eyes lift, seeming to seek me out and then find me. The distance between us does nothing to disconnect the charge between us, and suddenly, I decide that I will not leave this weekend unchanged by this man.

Someone calls his name, and his eyes linger on me a moment longer before turning away. As I watch him filming, for some reason Daniel’s words repeat in my head: Prove you don’t like games. Stop playing them and just tell me what the hell you and Stephanie want. Why is that statement bothering me so much? Aside from him acting as if he’s in control of Jason’s life, instead of Jason. But that could be the whole manager thing he does for Jason. He’s supposed to take the burden from him. Or maybe I’m just looking too hard at this. Maybe he’s just an arrogant, good-looking man in a suit who’s an *. Maybe I’m finally seeing a spade as a spade.