The Safe Bet (Hidden Truths #1)(22)

It was the longest hour he had ever played poker. Sitting across from Kate killed his focus on the cards. He could smell the sweet, flowery fragrance of her perfume, and since she was wearing barely any make-up, Michael noticed a slight dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

God, he wanted to kiss her.

“Michael?” Jerry was waving his hand in the air as if pushing away a cloud of cigar smoke.

Michael looked up. “Sorry. My turn?” He glanced at his cards. Pocket kings. Finally, a decent pocket pair. He placed his bet and leaned back in the black folding chair, which was a bit too small for him.

“I’m all in.” Kate looked up at Michael and tilted her head.

He kept his eyes on her as his friends to her right bowed out of the game. When it was back to him, he studied her, checking for tells. She swallowed and adjusted back in her seat. That was new. Was she bluffing?

Or was he just feeling sexual tension from her? The magnetic pull between them was making it hard to breathe. He reached for his chest, ready to loosen a tie that was strangling him, only he was wearing a T-shirt. “Is it hot in here?” he found himself asking as he stood up from the table.

“Come on, you afraid of a challenge? A duel of the sexes?” Jerry joked.

Michael tried to focus, but he found himself consumed by his past, by the memories he had tried to silence. Why was this happening now?

The rocky terrain as his boots slipped on the climb.

Gunfire.

IEDs.

Torn flesh.

Blood.

He turned away from the table, not wanting Kate to see him like this. His throat constricted, and he wondered if he was choking. He opened the patio door and walked outside. He braced the railing and closed his eyes, trying to shut out the steady stream of images that exhausted his mind.

“You all right?” Jerry asked. He slipped through the door and leaned against the railing next to him. “Kate wanted to check on you herself, but I figured you’d prefer not.”

Good call. He inhaled a sharp breath and opened his eyes. “I’m fine. Really.” He tucked the painful memories back inside and rubbed his hands over his face. “Be right in.”

After a few moments, he sat back down at the table and reached for his beer. He took a swig of his drink and studied Kate. Her mouth was angled down, and her shoulders drooped forward. Was she worried about him? Or worried he might call?

Perhaps she was playing him.

“I fold.” He set his beer down and watched her cheeks flush.

The two players to Michael’s left also folded, leaving only Kate in the hand. She began to gather in the pot. “So, what did you have?” he asked as he leaned back in his chair, feeling more relaxed.

“A good player never reveals,” she said as she stacked the chips in front of her.

And then she winked at him.

You’re killing me, woman. Michael straightened in his seat, feeling overwhelmed by his desire to kiss the edges of her mouth as her lips shifted up into a sexy grin.

*


“You’re really not going to tell me, huh?”

“No way,” Kate said, swatting his chest. “What if we play again?”

He stopped walking for a moment. “Can it be just us next time? And maybe . . . a different kind of poker game?”

She studied his eyes as they focused on her mouth, wondering what sinful albeit delicious thoughts he was harboring. “In your dreams.” She couldn’t help but crack a smile. And only in my dreams, too.

Michael cleared his throat. “Why’d you change hotels?”

I think I’d rather go back to talking about strip poker. She started to walk again, not sure what lie to spin. “I thought it would be more convenient to be here for the gala.” Totally plausible, right? And true, in part. It would be a lot easier to stay at the same hotel as the ball.

“Miss Adams?”

Kate looked away from Michael and toward the concierge, who was approaching her. The staff had become well acquainted with her from her work on the ball. “Yes?”

“We had a delivery for you earlier this evening.” He was carrying a glass vase of at least two dozen white tulips.

Michael tilted his head and studied Kate. “Secret admirer?”

Kate swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. The memory of the flowers that had been laid upon her mother’s grave flashed to her mind.

Michael removed his hands from his shorts pockets and reached for the vase when Kate didn’t move. “You okay?” he asked, nodding toward the concierge and studying her.

She was staring at the vase in his hands as her heartbeat escalated.

“Kate?” Michael gripped the vase with one hand and rested his other hand on her shoulder.

She looked up into his eyes, not sure what to say. “Yeah, I’m okay. No note?” She kept her hands to her sides, not eager to touch the flowers, which were no doubt from the man or woman who was following her. She had started to believe it was a jealous ex-lover of Michael’s who was trying to scare her away, but now her mind reeled, trying to come up with alternate theories.

“I don’t see a message,” he replied as he held the vase up. “I’ll ask the concierge.”

She watched Michael head to the desk, and she rubbed her hands against her thighs, unconsciously sucking her bottom lip between her teeth.