All of a sudden, she heard the click of nails on the hardwood floor, and a huge beastly dog appeared down a hall. It was as obsidian in color and frightening as its owner, and its ears and tail pricked in alarm when it spotted her.
“Don’t even think about it,” Cade growled. “Sit!”
The dog sat, but its ears were still up at attention. Ivy stared at it, strangely compelled by the creature. “What’s it called?”
“His name is Genghis.”
“Is he dangerous?”
“Not if I’m here,” Cade grumbled, and when he patted the dog with his big hands, some jealous sensation gripped inside her stomach as she wondered what it felt like. “He’s a pound dog, but he used to be a fighting dog so he’s … a little rough around the edges.”
Ivy watched as he murmured to Genghis to be at ease, deliciously caught by the gentleness with which he spoke to the dog. She’d seen Cade West before his wife died. She’d glimpsed what lay beneath all that raw anger back then, and now she wasn’t even surprised that he would have rescued an angry dog from the pound. Or that he touched the animal with those gentle, big hands, and spoke to him with almost … affection.
Alarmed by the way this moved her, she started when he spoke behind her. His voice was soft. As soft as the one he’d used on the tamed dog. Filling her with goose bumps as she heard it near her ear. “Can I take your coat?”
She recovered fast and took a safety step away from him with a real smile. “Nice try, mister.”
He scowled darkly and signaled at her. “You can’t seriously expect to stay in all that? Hell, that’s not even fair to the Eskimo you got it from. And what the hell are these? Three scarves?”
He lifted them up to his somber scrutiny, and she nodded and watched them flutter back down.
“You can barely move in there. How many damned sweaters are you wearing?”
His intense scrutiny made her oddly aware of her nipples, her sex, her tongue, her fingers. “Two,” she said, feeling suddenly embarrassed that she was so obviously afraid of losing to him.
“And beneath the damned sweaters?”
“Two … camisoles.”
His glimmering gray eyes raked her, and she felt naked even with all these layers.
“So you’re wearing three scarves, two sweaters, two camisoles, a double padded ski jacket.… how many pants?” His voice dropped on the word “pants,” and she was sweating even harder, nervous already. She only wore one skirt and damned if she shouldn’t have worn pants under it, too. “Well, Ivy?”
Her name on his mouth sent a strange little tremor through her. She shook her head and pushed her loose hair behind her shoulders in a restless gesture. “Maybe you’ll find out, maybe you won’t. Where do you want to do this, then?”
He gestured to the hall where Genghis had appeared moments ago. “Just so you know,” he said, his voice deep and sensual, “I’m going to strip you without even setting a finger on you. I’ll get you down to your panties in less than half an hour.”
“I’ll be the one stripping you of both your clothes and your money.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “You’re sure welcome to try.”
The sound of his laugh unnerved her, and she felt her nipples poke into her bra as he seized her and guided her to the wide carpet that stretched across his living room. She settled down on the carpet rather than at the table, then watched as he went to the kitchen. She could hear him running water, washing his hands, before he came out with two cups of coffee and a bowl of assorted dark chocolates. The brief contact of his hand as he passed her a cup made her skin tingle all the way to her toes.
“I assume that, like me, you’d rather stay sharp and pass on the alcohol?”
He settled down on the carpet a few feet across from her, and Ivy couldn’t resist popping in a chocolate truffle that melted in her mouth. She almost moaned as she swallowed, nodding at his words. His eyes seemed not to miss the pleasure in her expression, and his pupils went blacker as he watched her.
His voice dropped a decibel. “All right then, let’s do this. Care to shuffle, or do you want me to?”
His voice was firm, but rough around the edges, and his lashes dark and thick, framing those brilliant pale eyes that were a vibrant contrast to the tan of his skin. Those eyes watched her like his dog watched her from the far end corner; without an ounce of trust and like she might make an appetizing dinner.
The dog’s gaze didn’t alarm her; but the way her insides heated at the man’s gaze did.
“You do it,” she whispered, looking away so she could remember the rules in her head. They both had to put money on an opening bet, and if he raised it, she would have to bet more. She started by placing one of her scarves in the center. He placed a part of his blue chips.
“How much are they worth?”
“A hundred thousand each.”
She hoped he didn’t notice that she almost choked on her breath, for how could any scarf be worth that? Her heart pounded as he leaned back and expertly shuffled the cards with one hand.
“In fairness to you, I will open and raise you with money, and only discard an article of clothing if I lose.”
She nodded, grateful that she would not be the only near-naked person in the room. Maybe he wasn’t such a hopeless case after all.
The game began … and after the first few rounds, Ivy had removed her three scarves and one of her sweaters, while he’d only removed his belt.
The next opening bet, she had to remove her second sweater, hating that his stack of chips was still almost full, and Ivy was getting more and more naked.
“Deal me some good cards, Mr. West, or I’ll think you’re cheating over there.”
He cocked a brow and dealt their hands, sliding her five cards over the carpet, closer to her. “We’re playing strip poker. We were past Mr. West three scarves ago. Unless you have a problem with my name?”
“I don’t have a problem with your name. Only your attitude.”
His eyebrows rose. “Didn’t they explain to you how to kiss ass in charity school?”
She stared at her cards. “I think that right now, you want to see me naked as much as I want your donation, Mr. West.”
“Cade.”
“Cade.”
“Try it without the sarcasm, darling.”