“Five-card draw. For it all.”
Armen raised one brow as Numero Dos let out a harsh breath and fanned herself while Bianchi started counting chip stacks. “Do you know how much money is on the table, Mr. Porter?” Bianchi asked, no small amount of warning in his voice.
“I am aware,” Zane said easily, his eyes still locked on Armen"s.
“What you propose takes no skill, Mr. Porter, only dumb luck,”
Armen observed.
“Oh, I"m feeling lucky tonight, Mr. Armen,” Zane assured him, despite the spike of annoyance the implication caused. Armen was stalling, and Zane could see the wrinkles forming at the corners of the man"s eyes. Then Zane deliberately smirked, throwing Armen an all-out dare.
Armen sniffed. “Very well.”
They both pushed their chips into the center of the table, and then Zane sat back with his glass of Evian and nodded to the dealer.
“Will a fold be a redeal, gentlemen?” the dealer asked.
Zane looked to Armen with one of Corbin"s full-of-it smiles.
“No redeal,” Armen said shortly.
“Just short of a $500,000 pot,” the dealer announced without a blink, and he shuffled the deck expertly before beginning to deal. It really wasn"t fair, Zane reflected as he picked up his cards. Armen didn"t know that Zane had no stake in the money.
The numbers whizzed through his mind as the action went down.
Odds are one in two to receive one pair or higher.
He watched Armen riffle his cards before glancing at his own.
Zane didn"t bother to sort them.
Odds on being dealt a pair of jacks or higher are one in five.
There was no bidding to be done. Armen had first draw and took two new cards.
The odds against making three of a kind when drawing two cards to a pair and a kicker are twelve to one.
Zane dropped three cards face down for the dealer to replace, picked up the new ones, gave them a look, then set the small stack on the table face down. He focused the entire weight of his attention on Armen.
When drawing three cards to one pair, the odds against making a full house are ninety-seven to one.
Over the chips, Armen watched him closely for any sign, any hint that would help. He broke eye contact to briefly glance at Zane"s cards, and his lips compressed hard in a subtle display of pique.
Abruptly Armen stood, gave Zane a death glare, dropped his cards face down on the table, straightened his tie, and walked away.
Zane watched him go, inwardly amazed, and then he realized what Armen had seen: he was stroking his cards ever so slightly with his thumb.
Numero Dos leaned to flip over Armen"s cards: three tens with an ace kicker. Nice.
Zane just smiled at her innocently and laid his palm down over his lonely pair of queens.
AFTER trading several trays of chips in for credit on his account, Zane left the casino and game room, admittedly flying a little high. It wasn"t every day a man won $500,000 on a sort-of-unintentional poker bluff.
Bianchi had tried to entice him into a congratulatory round of that very fine whiskey, and though Zane had been supremely tempted, he had made his excuses, claiming an all-too-true desire to return to his lover for a not-so-small celebration of their own.
Still, after Bianchi"s offer the cravings kicked in, and Zane decided to wander the promenade and window shop a little on his way back to the stateroom.
He passed by the kitschy yet pricey tourist shops and lingered at the leather store, not that he needed another jacket. Zane wouldn"t part with his, rips and tears and all. He"d kept it since Ty tossed it at him in New York City during the serial murder case that had almost killed them both.
As he moved on, a small newsstand with a stock of books caught his attention, but Zane resisted the lure of the paperbacks with a sigh, although he did look at a crossword puzzle book and think of getting it for Ty, just to laugh over. He turned a corner on his way to the stairs and was halfway past the big-ticket jewelry store when a dull shine caught Zane"s eye. He stopped and idly glanced over the various jewelry cases, and his eyes settled on one understated display.
The details of the piece came into focus as he neared the case, and one of the ubiquitous crew members was there to pull it out and present it without him even asking.
An elegant, polished silver slide pendant hung on a cord of tightly wound black leather, set off by the gray velvet of the display stand. The hand-tooled pendant was roughly the size and shape of a nickel, and the inset boasted a two-tone compass rose. Each of the eight points terminated in a tiny diamond chip set into the round seal.
It was bought, paid for, and wrapped up before Zane gave a thought to what he was doing. If he were feeling particularly romantic, he might have admitted he sometimes thought of Ty as his compass.
But those words weren"t passing his lips. Not today, anyway. Not until he knew why he thought that. Not until it stopped scaring him.
After experiencing a moment of panic over the impulse rather than the actual purchase, Zane decided on qualifying it as a Christmas present. He could get his partner—his lover—a nice Christmas present, right? It might not be Ty"s style, but Zane didn"t care. After settling on that, all he saw as he walked back to the stateroom with the small package in his pocket was the compass rose nestled against the hollow of Ty"s throat.
TY HADN"T realized he"d fallen asleep until he heard the door click.
He jerked awake and reached to the side of the bed, where normally a gun would have been nestled between the mattress and box springs.
Instead, he found the rounded edge of the circular bed he would never grow accustomed to, and he went toppling over the side to the floor.
Zane"s “Corbin” voice came floating into the cabin. “Honey, I"m home.”
“Christ,” Ty muttered as he pushed himself up and peered over the edge of the bed to look at Zane.
Zane sauntered—and there was no other word for it but sauntered—across the room, one hand in his pants pocket, his suit jacket casually unbuttoned. “And how was your afternoon, doll?” he asked with a wink.
“I was enjoying a nap, I think,” Ty muttered as he climbed to his feet. “God, you"re smug. What have you done?”
Zane grinned. “I had a good day at the tables.”
“Oh yeah?” Ty asked, cutting off the words with a yawn as he stretched his arms high above his head.
“Oh yeah,” Zane drew out. He moved to stand in front of Ty.
“Tell me, baby. What would you do with $500,000?”
Ty raised one eyebrow. “I"d… probably put it into savings with all the other money I never spend. Why?”