Nate hated her. Anything and everything he could do to make her miserable—including turning her on and leaving her unsatisfied—was on the table for the next week. He’d lured her back to Las Vegas with this poker tournament just so he could slowly torture her. It was a devious plot, and a part of her knew she deserved it for leaving the way she had, but that didn’t mean she was just going to sit back and take it.
If Nate thought he could use their physical connection to manipulate her, he had another think coming. Two could play at that game. He’d desired her once; she could make him want her again. Silently seducing and manipulating men was at least half of her poker strategy. That’s why her sweaters were so low cut and her skirts were so tight. Poker required concentration, and she’d learned early on that being attractive was one of her biggest advantages in a game dominated by men.
The water turned off and Annie heard the glass door of the shower stall open and close. She quickly smoothed her hands over her hair and wished she was wearing pajamas with more seductive appeal. Her thin cotton shorts didn’t quite fit the bill, so she tugged up the sheets so only her skimpy matching tank top would show.
The door opened a moment later to reveal a wet and steamy Nate. He had a dark blue towel wrapped low on his hips that drew the eye down his hard belly to the line of darkening hair that disappeared beneath the terry cloth. His golden curls were damp, his face freshly shaved. Annie tried to focus on looking alluring, but it was hard when she was face-to-face with a body like his. Every inch was hard-carved muscle.
Nate paused in the doorway. His glance flicked briefly to the snug fit of her top over her breasts and returned to her eyes. “Good, you’re up. You need to get ready. Gabe will be here in about an hour to brief you on our strategy.”
Annie abandoned her attempt at alluring Nate and frowned. “Strategy?”
“For you snitching, as you’ve called it.”
Annie had been so distracted by last night’s events that she’d forgotten about the deal she’d made. She wasn’t just posing as his happy bride in public and feuding with him in private. She was supposed to be spying. Cracking the ring. Earning her freedom. The tournament officially started tomorrow, but everyone would be arriving today for the kickoff, registration and the cocktail party.
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