Page 258 of A Vicious Love

I settled sideways on his lap, my dress smoothing over his thigh, my shoulder near his chest.

His arm came around me.

Possessive enough that my breath caught, but loose enough that I knew I could move.

He angled the cigar away from me and tapped ash neatly into the tray. The smoke drifted to his right, toward the open window, never into my face.

“Comfortable?” he murmured.

I nodded, unable to look at anyone.

“Use words.”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.

My cheeks heated again.

Jamison picked up my cards from the table and placed them into my hands, then covered my fingers with his, adjusting their angle.

“Never hold them that high,” he said against my ear.

His mouth was too close.

Far too close.

Every word brushed warm over my skin, and when I turned my cheek instinctively toward him, his lips grazed just below my ear. It could have been an accident. But, Jamison did very few things by accident.

My fingers tightened around the cards.

He smiled against my hair.

“Focus.”

“I am focusing.”

“No, you’re thinking about my mouth.”

The cards nearly slipped from my hand.

“Jamison.”

“You are very easy to read in my lap.”

I closed my eyes for one second.

Julian dealt the flop with the brittle composure of a man determined to pretend his sister was not sitting on a Crow’s lap while learning poker.

The cards landed.

Ace of spades, two of hearts, nine of clubs.

“Oh,” I said softly.

Jamison’s hand tightened at my waist. “Why did you make that sound?”

“The two came back.” I grinned. It must like me.