Page 16 of When He Plays

Okay, so who was going to play⁠—

“Five million, done.”

The final player at the table. This was the first time he’d spoken. A male in a battered leather jacket. Dark hair, so dark it almost appeared black. Dark eyes.

All heads turned toward him.

“Well, Ares, you feeling like a winner, are you?” Logan drawled.

Ares stared straight at Logan. “I think we should up the stakes even more.”

“Oh? Really? Got another casino that you are interested in giving up to me? Because the one I took from you in Monte Carlo last spring…such a gem. Can’t thank you enough for that lovely little gift.”

The other players all seemed to ease their chairs back a little from the table.

Except for Pierre. He hunched forward. “I’m in, too. And I also think we should up the stakes.”

They were seriously up for five million each?

Her chest ached at the very thought. How could these people play so casually with that much money?

“Fine.” Logan rolled one shoulder. “If we’re upping the stakes, shall we do five million more? Just go for ten million each?” His cards were still face down on the table. He’d resumed his seat. His hands lay flat on the table on either side of his cards.

Charlotte edged a little closer to him.

Pierre shook his head. “I don’t care about more money. I have plenty.” His gaze raked over her. “I find myself wanting la lapine.”

La lapine. The rabbit.

Oh, shit.

He wanted her? He actually thought that Logan was going to wager her?

“Go hire your own damn assistant,” Logan snarled. “She’s not up for grabs. She is off-limits to all of you.”

Right. A thousand times, right. Not like he would wager for her.

“To have her at your private game,” Ares spoke in deep, dark voice, “she certainly must be one hell of an…asset.”

Emphasis on ass.

Okay, they were all dicks. Or, as Carmichael had said before…assholes.

And was her partner Jamar picking up all of this? Did the listening device still work, or had it broken when Freya smashed the glasses?

“I’m down for a wager with the pretty little assistant as the prize. Sounds good to me.” Ares shrugged.

Not happening. This was insane. You didn’t bet people.

Her hand curled around Logan’s shoulder.

Wait, when had she reached for him? She snatched her hand back.

But his head had already turned toward her.

“This is ridiculous,” she rushed to say. “You don’t bet people. That’s not legal. That’s just…utterly insane.”

Laughter. Hard. From Pierre. From Ares. Even Carmichael.