Vegas Curves (A Masters of the Game BBW Erotic Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page A

respond beyond a small shift in the tilt of my head and the direction of my eyes. I can see he has discarded the disguise of a working man and I am glad for the change. The silk suit adds distance, reminding me that he exists in a world entirely different from mine.
    Reaching the couch, he cups my chin and forces my gaze up. His lips move from relaxed to a flat line and his nostrils flare. "You gave the contact lenses to Solandro?"
    "Yes." Expecting recriminations, I nervously fist the fabric of my skirt.
    "That's what I get for letting you distract me." His grip on my chin lightens, his thumb moving to stroke beneath my bottom lip. "I sent the cards for chemical and spectral analysis, but why don't you save me time."
    This is not the reaction I expect. I re-assess, my mind shifting through everything I learned as my father's star pupil. I must assume everything Masters does is an attempt to influence and manipulate me. The strokes against my flesh and the false confession that I distracted him are meant to suggest he finds me attractive.
    He is starting with Ego Up and I wonder how long before he shifts to Ego Down or Fear Up. I can only pray he is impatient and the change happens soon. I cannot withstand this technique, not when he is the one deploying it.
    Already, my body is relaxing beneath his touch. I stiffen my spine and close my eyes. I picture dreadful things, things that will happen to Rose if I fail her. It gives me the strength to resist those soft, sensual strokes.
    His hand retreats. "Look at me, Marie."
    I obey. His gaze has turned hard and I decide it is time to tell him at least a little of what I know -- things he will discover soon enough.
    "The contacts pick up marks on the cards. They--"
    He raises a hand, stopping me, then opens the door, calling for paper and something with which to write. Leaving the door open, he sits down in the side chair. He folds his arms across his broad chest, his body language closed off except for the way his eyes roam my flesh despite the audience in the open bay of desks and cubicles.
    Tony appears, pushes a pad of paper and a pen at me then slinks away, shutting the door as he goes.
    "Draw the marks."
    The edge is gone from Masters' voice, leaving it low and sexy once more. Only it isn't the purr he offered the waitress. I am only good enough for the one he clearly reserves for oversized women cheating his casino.
    "Your sheet says you have a remarkable memory." He grips the arms of the chair, irritation leaking into his tone. "You looked at the marks for several hours last night."
    "I haven't forgotten." I begin drawing the symbols, my vision blurring with hurt as I recall the exchange between Masters' and Tina, his hand on her body, that sensual rumble running through his words as he offered to come back later.
    The pen digs into the paper, ripping it. I force my hand to relax and label the marks for suits and values before I draw the back of a card and mark where the symbols can be found. "They show as a silvery white."
    Leaning forward, I offer him the pad, my face averted so that he cannot see my unshed tears. The pad begins to shake from his delay in taking it. I look at him. His gaze rests slightly south of my collar bone and I fling the paper at him.
    "Stop wasting time with your stupid game, Masters." Throwing my body against the back of the couch, I cross my arms over my breasts. I do not want him looking at them, do not want him to see the response he so easily draws from my body. "You have the code. Now tell me how you're going to get Rose away from Solandro."
    Masters stands, tosses the pad of paper on the chair then slides onto the couch. His left thigh rests warmly against my right leg and I struggle to remember Rule number 5.
    I will not be the sucker at the table.
    "We've only scratched the surface of your compliance, Marie." He threads his left arm behind my back, his body slightly turned so that his chest presses against my bicep. "Tell me how you hooked