Page 253 of A Vicious Love

I looked at it.

That was the seat closest to the main play. My seat was usually farther back, safe enough to lose quietly.

“Jamison.”

“You’re engaged to a Crow.”

I frowned slightly, unsure what he was trying to tell me.

“Crows own casinos. You are about to marry into a bloodline whose main trade is making people believe they are smarter than the table.” His hand rested on the chair. “Sit.”

He took the chair next to mine.

A staff member appeared with a cigar tray before anyone asked.

Jamison reached for one, then paused and looked at me.

“Do you mind?”

It took me a second to understand.

He was asking me.

In front of my all the men who had spent the day trying to pretend he was a normal guest and failing miserably.

I shook my head. “No. I like the smell.”

His eyes held mine for a beat too long.

He selected a cigar.

The staff member lifted a cutter, but Jamison held out his hand.

“I’ll do it,” he said.

I surprised myself by reaching first.

“Can I?”

Jamison’s eyes moved to my hand.

Then to my face.

“You want to cut my cigar?”

“It looks satisfying.”

Jamison handed me the cigar.

It was heavier than I expected. He passed me the cutter as well, placing it into my palm. His fingers brushed mine. A small, stupid thrill went up my wrist.

“Straight cut,” he said, voice lower now. “Just the cap. Don’t take too much.”

I nodded, suddenly focused.

The cigar sat between my fingers.

I lined it up.