Sparks in Cosmic Dust Read Online Free PDF Page B

“I’m afraid I’ll have to twist.” She spoke to the cards, not eyeing her opponent right away, not batting her lashes for him. When was the last time that had happened?
    “Same here.” He frowned, drew two cards, sighed, discarded two. He peered up and set Varinia’s heart racing. “Okay, that’s me.” He tapped his knuckles on the console, signifying he was sticking.
    She glimpsed her three new cards and immediately sank them into the discard hole. One was the king of diamonds, another the ace of hearts. To hell with that. She wanted to lose. But could she get away with nobbling her game like this without anyone seeing? Two cameras watched the game from behind each player, so as long as she kept her cards hidden, it should be okay.
    “You show me yours…” she teased, and grinned at the weak but still winning hand he fanned face-up, “and I’ll show you mine.” After overturning her cards, she stepped back off her stool, struck a shy, virginal pose, arms shielding her chest, then slunk out of her green waistcoat to reveal pale white skin and her impressive cleavage in a lace corset.
    The stranger mouthed the word wow , drank her inch-by-inch with his lovely eyes, then almost licked his lips.
    Her plans outrunning her brain, she shivered, composed herself.
    It was time to give up her winning streak. If not now, the odds of finding a man this attractive, given the dwindling clientele, were not good at all. And she was not afraid. Excitement, rather than nerves, measured him for the role of sexual partner.
    Imagining what he’d look like naked—from the breadth of his shoulders and the cut of his jaw, probably ripped, mouth-watering—Varinia took her seat and couldn’t take her eyes off him. Would he be strong, generous in bed? She hoped so. It had been a long time since she’d made love.
    After discarding a red jack and a red lady in the next hand, losing her high heels, she decided it was imperative to behave exactly as she would if he were any other sap drooling over her. Flirty but cool. No more doe eyes, and no more avoiding eye contact either. A performance within a performance. After all, Archie would probably scrutinize the camera footage later, try his best to somehow prove she’d breached her contract.
    She gasped at the stranger’s side profile as he turned to survey the empty purple cell. When he spun back, his face and body language betrayed no affectation whatsoever. Either he was just supremely confident in his sexuality or he had no idea how gorgeous he was.
    Varinia summoned a deep breath and her next hand.
    Mmm. Losing was going to be easier said than done.
     
    Jesus. How many was that? He’d played…one, two… ten rounds and lost only two. How? Either he was better at Cydonia Face than he realized or else luck was being a mercurial bitch today. This whole depraved excursion had been borne on a reckless impulse, an overreaction to the worst piece of luck he’d ever had. Was this fate’s bizarre contrition? Varinia Wilcox for Maggie?
    Solomon would give anything for a swig of Neo Spitz tonic on the rocks. Despite the air-conditioning, his clothes were heavy with sweat. Hand after mediocre hand had sprung his way, and each time he’d wound up victorious. It didn’t make sense and he questioned it—dumb, very dumb. He ought to be hard as a girder right now, hornier than Bacchus in a harem. But fists of doubt wrung his insides out of shape.
    This was all a ruse to relieve him of his credits. She’d tempted him this far and from now on she’d win every hand. He’d forgotten to read the small print on the quickie disclaimer he’d signed at the front desk. If he did win, two gigantic bouncers would burst in and beat ten bells out of him.
    But wow. She was down to her underwear.
    Varinia’s fame was in her unattainability. He’d heard space haulers and nuns and A.I. companion bots alike say her name with envy. Yet apart from her beauty, they’d known nothing about