Masters of Seduction Volume 2: Books 5-8: Paranormal Romance Box Set Read online

  Sorin didn’t miss the female’s pleased reaction as his chips were swept away. “I assume that answers your question about the integrity of my House.”

  She turned a frosty look on him. “Not especially. After all, what have you actually lost here? You’ve only transferred Ebarron’s treasure from one pocket to the other.”

  He grunted. “True enough, but losing at anything isn’t something I enjoy. I’m not in the habit of giving up what’s mine.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “Have you. From whom?” Damn, the woman was practically hostile toward him now. “Do you know me? I asked your name earlier, but you didn’t tell me.”

  When she stood in stony silence, Korda answered for her. “Told me her name’s Asha.”

  “Asha,” Sorin said, testing it on his tongue. “Asha, what? And where are you from?”

  She swallowed, but her dark blue eyes were locked on him in defiance. “Asha…Messenger,” she said, her reply too measured to be truthful. She licked her lips. “I came here from New York.”

  Sorin studied her. They most certainly had never met, and untrue or not, there was something vaguely familiar about her name.

  Although she was withholding something more than that from him and he knew it. As a gambling man, he watched for tells and he easily recognized when someone was keeping their cards close to their chest.

  And Asha Messenger from New York had a chest he very much wanted to explore.

  He wanted to discover all of her tells, explore every last creamy inch of her. In scorchingly intimate detail.

  Which meant it was time to get rid of Korda Marakel.

  Sorin glanced at the croupier and gave a subtle nod of his head, an unspoken command that sent the roulette wheel spinning. As the ball was let loose, Sorin leaned around Asha to look at the other male. He gestured to his enormous pile of chips, which dwarfed his opponent’s. “All or nothing. Are you in?”

  Korda stared at him, hesitant. Skeptical. But as anticipated, the Incubus’s greed got the better of him. He called his number and slid his entire holdings onto the table.

  Sorin did likewise, putting all of his chips on the same red square that Asha had picked a moment ago.

  She slid him a questioning look. “That number already lost once.”

  He cocked his head. “Worried for me?”

  She snorted. “Not in the least.”

  Instead of watching the ball as it clattered and bounced from pocket to pocket on the slowing wheel, Sorin watched Asha, utterly transfixed. She held her breath, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Her dark blue eyes followed the ball, a frown creasing her delicate brow.

  “Come on, black,” she whispered. “Keep going…keep going.”

  She slanted an arch glance at Sorin, and he chuckled.

  When was the last time he’d met any woman with courage enough to not only bet against him at something, but to openly taunt him as well? And this defiance was coming from a Nephilim who knew damned well he was not some lowly Incubus cousin from the Ebarron line, but Master of the House.

  He should have been annoyed at her lack of deference for his rank. Instead he was fascinated.

  “Number five, red,” the croupier announced.

  Asha exhaled a disappointed sigh. Korda Marakel was far more vocal. He cursed harshly and pushed away from the table, raking a hand through his dark hair. “That spin was rigged. It had to be.”

  “There’s only one cheat in this room, and it’s not me. You took your shot. You lost.” Sorin gave an idle shrug and met his rival’s glare. “And this table is now closed for the night.”

  Fury exploded from Korda. “You son of a bitch! I demand another chance to win back my money.”

  His outburst drew plenty of attention from the other tables in the roulette room. Several of Ebarron’s grim-faced Watchmen moved in from their posts before the situation could escalate any further. Milo led the pack of lethal Incubus guards.

  At Sorin’s nod, the captain of the Watchmen dropped a firm hand on Korda’s shoulder. “It’s time for you to leave now.”

  “Gladly,” he grumbled. “Asha. Let’s go.”

  She didn’t move.

  Sorin looked at her, waiting for her to fall in with her so-called date. He arched a brow in question. Her hesitation seemed conflicted, as if part of her couldn’t get away from him fast enough, yet another part of her could not compel her feet to move.

  Sorin was more than happy to handle the indecision for her. “Show Marakel out. The lady will be staying for as long as she likes. As my personal guest.”

  Milo and the other Watchmen obeyed at once, escorting the sputtering, bewildered Incubus from the roulette room and out of the casino.

  When it was just the two of them standing at the table, Sorin turned his full attention on Asha. Leaning an elbow on the tall table, he held her midnight blue gaze. He couldn’t help but smile that he had the intriguing female all to himself. “So it seems you are interested in playing after all.”

  Her chin notched up a degree. “I don’t like games.”

  “Yet here you are.” He lowered his voice to a private level, a grin tugging at his lips. “Even if you don’t want to admit it to me, I think you enjoy taking risks.”

  Something sharp, shrewd, glinted in her eyes. “I’m certainly not afraid of it.”

  “No,” he said, chuckling. “I can see that you’re not.”

  Fuck, she was an enticing female. He’d noticed that plainly enough on first glance from the balcony earlier tonight, and again in the gallery promenade.

  Now that he was alone with her, close enough to touch, close enough to breathe in the sweet, warm scent of her skin, Sorin couldn’t tear his eyes from her. He’d already considered a hundred different ways he wanted to have her.

  All he had to do was convince her that she wanted him too.

  “How about a private round, Asha of New York?” He indicated the roulette wheel and the croupier, waiting for instructions. “Care to take me on at the table, just the two of us?”

  She considered, then gave a small shake of her head. “I don’t have any money. I spent everything I had just to get here.”

  Sorin was undeterred. “I’ll extend House credit to you. No strings attached.”

  At his silent signal, the croupier gathered several tall stacks of chips and slid them in front of Asha. Her brows lifted, but when she looked at Sorin, her eyes were full of wariness. “Why would you do this?”

  “Because you intrigue me, and I’m not ready to let you go just yet.”

  “I intrigue you,” she said, cautious now. Suspicious. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

  “You arouse me.” Sorin leaned toward her, leaving bare inches between his mouth and hers. “I want you, lovely Asha, and I’m trying to decide how best to seduce you. Is that exact enough for you?”

  Some of her defiance fled at his bold candor. She was no timid mouse, but she didn’t seem able to hold his gaze now. She glanced away from him, down at the small fortune in front of her. “And if I say I want to leave?”

  “Then go now. Take the chips with you and cash them in. No one will stop you.”

  She gaped at him. “You’d actually let me walk out of here right now with more than twenty thousand euros?”

  “I would, yes.”

  She shook her head and exhaled a short laugh. “Then apparently you’re the one who likes taking risks.”

  “No, Asha.” He reached out and stroked his fingers down her silky cheek, unable to resist touching her. “I like to win.”

  He gave the croupier a nod and the wheel started to spin. Asha didn’t move. Hell, as far as he could tell, she barely breathed beside him as Sorin waited for her to either accept his challenge or reject him outright.

  An unspoken but palpable tension crackled between them, ratcheted up even tighter with each rotation of the wheel. Without taking his eyes off her, Sorin placed his bet.

  “Your turn,” he prompted her s
oftly. “Last chance to run away.”

  She swallowed, her gaze locked on his. A torrent of emotions roiled in her dark blue eyes. Uncertainty. Mistrust. Outrage. Contempt.

  And yes, desire.

  Sorin had made his share of wagers during his life, had learned to read people on a glance. And yet this woman mystified him. He wanted her to stay right now the way he needed air to breathe. Yet he prepared himself to watch her gather up her chips and glide out of his life as mysteriously as she’d appeared.

  But she didn’t leave.

  Asha reached for a large handful of chips, then hesitated, her slender fingers hovering over the stacks. The look she swung on him was pensive, as though she were calculating odds of her own. Then she gave a small shake of her pale blond head. “I’ve come too far to run away now. I’m in.”

  Sorin grinned, more than pleased. “Good.”

  The Nephilim blew out a quiet curse and called her number. Then, to his surprise, she took her hands away from her chips. “I’m in, but I’m not interested in your money.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  If the sexual heat pouring off Sorin Ebarron had been powerful before, the moment those words left her mouth the air turned instantly electric. Erotic energy surged off the Incubus, vibrating somewhere deep inside Asha’s core.

  As Sorin stared at her, a low, predatory sound curled up from his throat. His topaz eyes flared with avid interest.

  “Do tell,” he said, that unnerving gaze sharpening, penetrating her. “What do I have that might interest you more than my money, delectable Asha Messenger from New York?”

  Hearing him speak her name like that—a name that was mostly a lie, given to Korda Marakel as a small bit of self-protection—helped jostle her out of the spell of Sorin’s innate allure.

  Only Gran called her Asha. Her last name wasn’t Messenger either, and although she’d flown to Bucharest from New York City, Ashayla had lived in Chicago all her life. If Sorin Ebarron knew any of those things, he’d know for certain who she really was. And he would probably just as easily guess why she was really there tonight.

  His full lips curved with wicked curiosity. “Don’t keep me in suspense. If you want to alter our wager, you have to do it before the ball stops on the wheel.”

  Oh, God. She must be out of her mind to think she could play games with this demon, let alone win at them.

  But she had to. She meant it when she told him she’d come too far to run away now. Whether she’d realized it at the time or not, she’d been all-in the moment she stepped foot in the Ebarron casino tonight.

  She couldn’t back down now, no matter how dangerous the stakes.

  “Okay.” She swallowed, summoning her courage. “If I win, I want you to let me take one item from Ebarron’s treasure room.”

  “What?” The request obviously took the Incubus aback. He blinked—or was it a flinch? Then his tawny brows crashed down in a scowl. “Out of the question. There are too many priceless things in there. And besides, treasure won by Ebarron—”

  “Is never surrendered. Yes, I know.” Ashayla forced herself to hold his thunderous stare. “Afraid to take the risk, Incubus?”

  “Not at all.” He leaned in close now, breathing her in. Dissecting her with his shrewd gaze. “The question is, will you be willing to pay my price if I win?”

  As if to punctuate his challenge, the roulette wheel began to slow. The quiet rattle of the ball made the moment feel endless, time stretching to a crawl along with her indecision.

  She thought about Gran back home, about the prospect of letting the most cherished person in Ashayla’s life pass to the next with a burden weighing so heavily on her frail shoulders. Gran was desperate to have the pendant back in her hands. And Ashayla was determined to be the one to bring it to her.

  She lifted her chin, refusing to let the demon intimidate her. “Fine. What do you want from me?”

  Ashayla didn’t expect him to move as quickly as he did. She didn’t anticipate the sudden heat and strength of his hand as it wrapped around her nape and hauled her toward him.

  And she sure as hell was not prepared for the moment his mouth crashed down on hers in a fevered, dizzying kiss.

  When she parted her lips on a small gasp, Sorin took full advantage. His tongue pushed past her teeth in a sweeping, erotic claiming that practically melted her where she stood.

  He held her firmly as his kiss deepened, igniting a desire in her that she was helpless to deny. Her nerves tingled everywhere their bodies brushed together. Her breasts felt heavy and tight, aching for his touch. Her sex ached even more. With just one kiss, she was wet and melting, longing for more.

  Sorin’s spicy male scent invaded her senses like a drug, saturating her self-control until all she knew was this man and his devastating effect on her.

  This Incubus she despised, yet desired in a startlingly powerful way.

  When he finally released her, Ashayla was panting, every inch of her on fire.

  “My price is you,” he announced thickly. “You, for the rest of the night. I trust I’ve left no doubt as to what’s at stake.”

  She rubbed her swollen lips with the back of her hand, furious that her mouth—and other parts of her traitorous body—still throbbed with pleasure from his unwelcome kiss.

  Ashayla glanced to the slowing roulette wheel and the ball that would determine her fate tonight. Everything rational screamed for her to get as far away from Sorin Ebarron as fast as she possibly could. Even while everything female in her arched toward him against her will.

  Sorin leaned close to murmur near her ear. “One final chance for you to end this ruse now and run back home where you belong, little Nephilim.”

  His smile was as profane as it was playful. The arrogant bastard.

  Ashayla bared her teeth as she skewered him with a glare. “Fuck you, Incubus.”

  “Excellent. Then we’re agreed.” He chuckled, looking gorgeous and wicked—and far too confident. “I accept your wager…with pleasure.”

  ~

  Lust spiraled through him after that hot, uninvited kiss.

  It staggered him, in fact. Sorin could not recall the last time a woman had enticed him so thoroughly. Never, if he was pressed to name one.

  Now all he could think about was how quickly he could get Asha Messenger naked beneath him in his bed.

  Or rather, Ashayla Palatine.

  That was her real name. And she wasn’t from New York, but Chicago.

  He knew it now with a certainty that infuriated him almost as much as it intrigued him. As soon as she mentioned the treasure room, all the pieces clicked into place.

  Damn. He should have realized even sooner, but he’d been too caught up in his carnal pursuit of the Nephilim to stop and think with anything other than his very enthusiastic cock.

  He had received more than a dozen letters and emails from one Miss A. Palatine over a five-month period, all concerning a certain bauble that had been in the Ebarron vaults for nearly twenty years. After Sorin’s refusal to sell it back to her, the Nephilim had gone from imploring to indignant to downright insulting.

  And now here she was, in the flesh, on Ebarron soil.

  Very delectable flesh, from what Sorin could ascertain.

  In all the times he had imagined her—and there had been many—he’d envisioned a dour little church mouse with a voice to shrivel even the lustiest Incubus’s allure. Instead, Ashayla Palatine was a tall and luscious, defiant temptress.

  One who’d arrived tonight under false pretense, besides.

  As wildly attracted to her as he was, Ashayla’s true purpose for coming to his domain was the thing that now captivated Sorin the most. Before he let her out of his sight tonight, he would unravel every one of her secrets.

  If he could undress her and have her screaming his name at the same time, so much the better.

  Idly tapping his index finger on the tallest stack of his chips, Sorin watched the slowing wheel. He heard Ashayla’s inhaled breath as the
ball bounced from pocket to pocket. Felt her go utterly still beside him on the final clatter that sealed her fate.

  The croupier called the winner.

  Sorin.

  Ashayla stood wooden, staring at the table as Sorin dismissed the croupier with a casual lift of his hand. “That will be all for tonight, Carl. Thank you.” As the tuxedoed casino worker stepped away to leave them their privacy, Sorin swiveled his head to look at Ashayla. “I have to admit, this has been a most memorable night already…Miss Palatine.”

  She swung a stricken glance at him.

  “Yes, I know who you are. And it doesn’t change a thing. You made a deal, Ashayla.”

  She scoffed beneath her breath. “A deal with the devil, if you ask me.”

  Sorin smiled, gave a mild shrug. “Nevertheless…I mean to hold you to it.”

  He held out his arm to her. She didn’t take it. She hardly moved. Sorin half-expected her to cry foul or bolt like a frightened doe. If she had, maybe he would have shown her mercy and let her go.

  Maybe.

  But she did neither of those things.

  Shoulders squared, chin held high, she looked at him with ice in her midnight blue eyes. “The rest of the night and not a minute more,” she said. “That was the price. Nothing more.”

  “You know the price, Ashayla.”

  She regarded him the way she might look at something that had crawled out from one of Hell’s sulfurous abysses. “What do you mean to do? Rape me, or use the thrall to do the work for you?”

  He deflected her barb with a cool shake of his head. “There won’t be any need for such heavy-handed tactics. Before the night is over, you’ll be begging me to take you. After that kiss a moment ago, I’m guessing you’re more than halfway there already.”

  “I’m sure you’d like to think so.” She pinned him in a seething stare, even though her cheeks flamed with color. “Since you know who I am, it shouldn’t come as any surprise to know that I despise you and everything your House stands for. If you think that’s going to change because I was foolish enough to gamble against you tonight, you’re sorely mistaken.”

  He met her outrage with a calm, level glance. He reached out, unable to resist stroking his fingertips over the deep pink flush on her face. “I said you’re going to want me between your legs, sweet Asha. I didn’t say you had to like me.”