Page 1 (1/2)

Prologue

Gia

Storlass toit was colder

Though I’m down more than 300 after ame that has my face flushed and the back of my neck covered in a layer of sweat

I could lose ten tiht and still not be as worked up as Maverick Hagen hasatI could drop an ice cube down the front of my top

The stakes are high tonight, but they’ve got nothing to do with money Not directly, anyway Maverick and I sat down at this table an hour and a half ago, each with 1,000 in chips, to settle a bet First one to run out of chips loses

And while I’d never adambler that I don’t actually want to win

“Hell yeah!” The player next toabout that one!” He turns to face ar smoke “That was almost as beautiful as you, hot stuff”

Maverick’s gaze darkens from the other side of the table as the man leans in close

“Fuck off,” I say, glaring at hi-bitch-face look

He laughs again, and this ti from his mouth onto the felt-covered table

“Feisty” He waggles his bushy eyebrows “I like it”

“Get in ain and I’ll knock your fat ass out of that chair,” I tell him with a scowl

Finally getting the hint, he returns ht snickers in a for the next deal I’ve got s to worry about than a drunken, mouthy tourist