“Is there a reason my men don’t do what they’re told when you’re around?”
“Maybe you need to ask nicely,” I said, biting my cheek to hide my amusement. “A please never killed anyone, you know.”
“I suppose not.” His gaze sparked with dark amusement. “It seems to be your favorite word under certain circumstances.”
I sucked in a breath as warmth rushed to my cheeks. The blush spread throughout my entire body, and to distract myself from it, I changed the subject.
“I lost two thousand.” My tone was unapologetic, like I did this all the time.
Nico tugged on his tie, a smile pulling on his lips. “You didn’t lose anything. He cheated you.”
I paused. “How do you know that?”
“Because I taught him how, that’s why.”
Lucky, my ass.
“He would’ve won without the cheating,” I admitted with a sigh. “I have a terrible poker face.”
An intense gaze met mine, the pressure of it touching my skin. “Somehow, I doubt that.” He walked toward me with his hands in his pockets, and it felt as if I was forgetting how to breathe with each step.
I had no idea how to respond to that, or why it felt like it meant something, so I only said, “I don’t know the first thing about how to recognize when someone’s cheating, either.” I had the feeling I would get eaten alive in the Russo family. Even a teen boy had shown me up.
Nico dropped to his haunches before my spot on the couch and picked up a card from the floor. My heart pattered like rain against glass. He was close enough I could reach out and run my hand through his hair.
“Well, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”
In between his pointer and middle finger, he held the card out to me, but before I could reach for it, it disappeared into thin air.
My eyes went wide. “How did you do that?”
“Simple sleight of hand.”
The cheating in the Russo family was so extreme that making cards disappear was “simple.”
“Show me,” I insisted.
His gaze sparked with amusement. “We’ll start with the basics first, so I can leave you alone for a couple hours without you losing all my money.”
I frowned.
He picked up the rest of the cards, and I noticed his freshly b
usted knuckles. I chewed my lip as he got to his feet, took off his jacket, and sat in the chair behind his desk.
“You play often?” I asked.
He leaned back, resting an elbow on the armrest. “Used to.”
“Why not anymore?”
“Got business to run.”
“Lucky made it sound like you were good. But now I can’t decide if you were good at poker or good at cheating.”
A dark smile pulled on his lips. “Sounds like you got him talking.”
Eh. I knew that tone, and it wouldn’t be good for Lucky.