He smiled. "That would imply she's special, darling. And no one's ever that special."

"Good to hear. Maybe she wouldn't mind me crashing the party then."

Fuck, he really couldn't be bothered with this kind of game, but he had to play it tonight regardless of whether he wanted to or not. "Party like that needs an invite."

"Are you giving me one?"

"Oh no, you don't get it that easily. You have to earn it."

She gave him an enigmatic look. "I think I can do that. The next round is the fun one."

He wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but at that moment Conrad ended the break, reminding the players to all return to their seats if they wanted to keep playing.

When everyone had seated themselves again, Conrad put his elbows on the table, lacing his hands together, a wicked gleam in his eye. "I think we've all got our heads in the game now, which means this round the gloves come off. It also means I get to make things a little more interesting." He gazed around and Alex found himself tensing as Conrad's gaze met his. "Money's off the table. But to keep it interesting, I thought we'd go old school and have a strip poker round."

Silence fell around the table.

Interesting. Alex flicked a glance at the others. The sheikh was clearly not happy, while Mrs. Lau was expressionless as ever. The mercenary was silent and motionless as a rock, but August laughed. "Holy fuck, South. You're not expecting me to take my damn clothes off, are you?"

Christine smiled. "Oh, come on, Jason. Where's your balls? I'm okay with it if you are."

The Texan leered at her. "Well, honey, if you're okay with it then-"

"I'm not envisaging the players getting undressed, August," Conrad cut in. "That would make it far too ... easy, shall we say. I'm going to nominate stand-ins for you all instead." His gaze shifted to Alex's and the tension abruptly pulled tighter than a bowstring. "Starting with Mr. St. James here. You have a very lovely girlfriend over there by the bar. I nominate her to be your stand-in."

Fuck, no.

The response was instant and unequivocal. And it wasn't, despite what he'd told Christine, only because Katya was starting to become somewhat special to him. No one screwed around with his employees. No one.

With a lazy movement he swirled the vodka in his tumbler, managing to keep the slightly bored expression on his face and not let any of his fury out. "So let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You want to play strip poker, but the players don't strip, a nominated stand-in does instead?"

"In a nutshell, my dear boy." The prick was still smiling that smug smile, like he just made the best joke in the world. "That way we preserve our dignity and we all have something nice to look at. I'm sure I can find the ladies here something for their preference too."

"I have no problem with looking at girls," Christine said, her mouth curving suggestively. "Though I'm a little disappointed not to see Mr. St. James in the buff."

Alex laughed. "Oh, honey, don't give up hope yet. But you know, Conrad"-he didn't bother to keep the edge out of his voice-"I'm going to have to run that by Katya. I'm not sure she'd agree to taking her clothes off in front of a whole lot of strangers."

"Well, I guess that all depends on your poker skill, doesn't it?" Conrad's tone was slick as a pool of oil. "But I'm sure one of your lovers wouldn't mind. Aren't they all strippers and suchlike?"

Okay, so here was the shit he'd always known Conrad would pull, the little power games he liked to play. Probing for weaknesses, testing. And since Katya was here with Alex, it was natural for her to be Conrad's target.

There was a certain poetic justice to it in many ways. Since if Conrad had been seeking to use one of Alex's usual lovers, it wouldn't have bothered him quite so much. Oh, he would have been pissed, but only in the same way as he would if anyone started screwing with him and his stuff without permission.

But Katya wasn't one of his normal lovers. And he didn't feel pissed. He felt furious.

Calm down. You have a plan. Remember it.

Yeah, the plan. And that meant putting up with Conrad's crap to lull the guy into a false sense of security. In which case, maybe a small, token protest would help. It would make Conrad think that Alex had revealed a weakness, that he'd been affected by Conrad's power plays. And that in turn would make Conrad even smugger. Possibly even complacent.

Excellent.

Alex let out a long-suffering sigh and sat back in his chair. "Cheap, Conrad. I didn't think we were at the 'make patronizing comments about my lovers' stage of the evening yet. Weren't you supposed to be cleverer than that?"

"You better pray she agrees, son."

"Oh?" Alex lifted a brow.

"Because if she doesn't, you're out of the game." Conrad's teeth flashed. "This game is mine and I make the rules. And if I want you out, you're out. Understood?"

Asshole. Alex lifted a shoulder. "Oh sure, but isn't strip poker a little juvenile?" He tilted his head slightly, unable to resist baiting Conrad. "I seem to recall someone talking about a game for men, not boys. But perhaps I'm mistaken."

The other man's expression didn't change, but Alex didn't miss the almost imperceptible tightening of his mouth. A hit. How satisfying.

"You have five minutes to get the lady to agree," Conrad said as if Alex hadn't spoken. "I'll organize stand-ins for the others."

Alex laughed. "Hell, Conrad, if you want my girlfriend that badly you know you only have to ask. No need to go through all of this strip poker nonsense. I'm always happy to share."

"I prefer my goods not to be shop-soiled." Conrad's hazel eyes glittered. "Are you in or out?"

Time to stop pushing. Alex put his tumbler down on the side table with a soft click. "Well, of course I'm in. But I'll probably need those five minutes."

Katya already knew Alex wouldn't need those five minutes. She'd heard what Conrad had said and had already made her decision.

The man was targeting Alex and using her to get at him; that much was obvious. Which meant she had to neutralize herself as a possible weapon. And the way to do that with a manipulative game player like Conrad South was to not give him any more ammunition. If she took the fun out of the game, he'd leave her alone.

She straightened from her position with the other spectators at the rail circling the table as Alex approached her. His mouth curved in his usual lazy smile, but there was a dangerous glitter in his eyes. He was furious.

"I presume you heard that?" he asked, sliding an arm around her waist and drawing her away from the other spectators where no one could overhear them, though that didn't stop every eye in the place from looking at them.

"Yes. And it's fine. I can do it."

He turned her so his back was to the room and she was sheltered by it; then he bent his head near her ear and she couldn't stop the shiver that went through her as his breath passed over her neck. "You don't have to."

It wasn't what she was expecting. She turned her head, meeting his gaze, reading the anger in it. "If you refuse, you're out of the game. And we haven't got what we came here for yet, remember?"

An expression she didn't understand crossed his face. "Getting your clothes off in front of a bunch of strangers was not part of your contract."

"I will do what I need to do for the success of the mission. Taking my clothes off is nothing."

"You really want to be naked in front of all these people?"

"Nakedness doesn't bother me."

"It did that night when I told you to get undressed."

Unfamiliar heat warmed her cheeks. "Yes, but that's because it was you."

"That shouldn't make any difference."

Katya swallowed. "Yes, well, it did. I don't know these people. I don't care what they think. They mean nothing to me." She let the implication rest there for a moment before continuing. "My body is only a tool, Alex. And if it's useful to you then why not?"

He looked at her for a long moment. "I'll do what I can to win so you won't have to be naked, at least."

"No, you can't do that either and you know it. South is a bully. If you show in any way that you care about the outcome, he'll use that against you."

His jaw tightened and for a second a hot spark of determination glowed in his eyes. A fury. "No, he won't. I'll make sure of that."

Katya opened her mouth to ask how he could be so sure, but then Conrad said, "Well? Time's up."

Alex didn't turn, keeping his gaze on hers. "I won't let him hurt you, Katya. Trust me." Again, that determined, certain look. As if he knew what he was doing. As if he had a plan.

A week ago that would have made her angry. That if he did, indeed, have a plan he hadn't seen fit to share it with her. Yet getting angry seemed pointless now and wouldn't help the situation. She had trusted him before; she would trust him now. And perhaps if she did, maybe he'd then trust her in return.

Responding to an impulse she'd never been conscious of before, Katya rose up on her toes and pressed her mouth to his. A swift, fleeting kiss that she hoped conveyed everything that couldn't be said now. Then she stepped past him and up to the poker table, met Conrad's hooded gaze. "I'd be happy to help out."

The man smiled at her, and it was greedy. "Excellent. A very good decision, my dear. Now, shall we play? Winner gets to determine which piece of clothing comes off which stand-in."

Some of the women she'd spotted around the room earlier had come forward to the table, taking their places behind the chairs of the various players. Clearly they were also stand-ins of Conrad's. There was only one man, lean and handsome, and he had come to stand behind Mrs. Lau's chair.

Had it been Conrad's intention to add this twist to the game all along? And had these people been invited to be spectators for that very reason?

Katya studied them as she took her place behind Alex's chair. They were all, without exception, very beautiful and expertly made up. But the look on their faces was blank. Strangely, they reminded her of the poker players seated at the table, as if they too were keeping their emotions in check, not letting anyone know what they were thinking.

The game began, the dealer dealing out the cards. Katya couldn't see Alex's face, only the rest of the table. The American woman was laughing while the tall Arab man, the sheikh, kept his gaze squarely on his cards, his lean, fiercely handsome face tight with some emotion Katya didn't recognize. The fat Texan was tapping away with a poker chip while Conrad sat there lazily holding his cards, his gaze on the rest of the players.

Alex won the first round. Decisively. He didn't even bother looking around the table, his gaze on Conrad as he said, "The necklace off your stand-in."

The woman behind Conrad, a stunningly beautiful brunette, nodded and undid the diamond choker she wore around her neck.

"A necklace?" Conrad raised an eyebrow. "When you could have had her dress? I'm disappointed, son. Very disappointed indeed."

"The necklace can be a bonus prize for the next winner," Alex said. "Unless it's something special of course."

"Not at all." Conrad held up his hand and the woman behind his chair put the necklace in it. He leaned forward and put the glittering diamond strand on the table. "We have to keep this fun, right?"

Several rounds passed, Alex winning all of them. The woman behind the Texan lost her shoes whileto keep things equal opportunities presumablythe man behind Mrs. Lau lost his shirt.

"Hmmm," Conrad said lightly as the cards were dealt out yet again. "Are you planning on winning all these rounds, St. James? Feeling a little protective of your girl maybe?"

Alex's gaze was on his cards. He lifted a negligent shoulder. "I just had some good hands. And this one's shit." He put it back down on the table. "I fold."

The Chinese woman won the round, and Katya saw Conrad's gaze flick to where she stood behind Alex's chair, could almost feel the silent urging the man was giving off. But Mrs. Lau clearly had no interest in Katya, because she gestured to the woman behind the sheikh's chair. "Take something off. I don't care what."

Conrad leaned his elbows on the table. "Oh, come now, Mrs. Lau. Take an interest. A good businessman or -woman should know their stock."

Stock? Interesting word to use.

Mrs Lau's cold, black eyes gave him a glance. She didn't say anything for a long moment, her face absolutely expressionless. "The dress," she said at last, turning to gesture at the woman. "Let us see."

The woman behind the sheikh's chair did as she was told without hesitation. She didn't even blush as she shrugged herself out of the cocktail gown she wore, placing it over the rail separating the table from the spectators.

"Very nice," Conrad said. "What do you think, August?"

The Texan's gaze was acquisitive because the woman was, it had to be said, very beautiful. "Pretty damn cute."

But there was something in Mrs. Lau's eyes as they ran over the young woman's figure that sent a shiver down Katya's spine. It wasn't in the least bit sexual, unlike the men's gazes. More as if she were studying a fine piece of horseflesh she wanted to buy.

Katya filed that away in her head for future reference as the game went on.

As the next couple of rounds proceeded, first the American woman won, undressing the single male stand-in down to his boxers. Then it was the scarred mercenary's turn to win. His gaze was dispassionate as he gestured for the woman standing behind Conrad to lose her gown.

The woman did so. She wasn't wearing a bra, but this didn't seem to worry her as she stepped out of her dress, straightening and standing there calmly.

"Beautiful," August said, whistling his appreciation. "I like good tits on a woman."

"I'm sure we'll be seeing plenty of those soon enough." Conrad smiled down the other end of the table straight at Alex as the dealer dealt another hand. "I think it's time to stop protecting your lady friend, son. I'm sure she can handle it." His smile widened, his gaze shifting to Katya. "Can't you, darling?"

Oh yes, he was playing with them. With both of them.

This was like the military school she'd gone to. Where the teachers would take the pupils outside in the middle of winter, make them stand naked in the snow, then throw buckets of cold water over them. Teaching them to suffer the pain and the cold. To bear it. Tough it out.

This was nothing compared to that.

She straightened her shoulders and made herself smile in return. "Of course I can."

Alex's lean figure, sprawling lazily in the chair in front of her, didn't move. "Well, shit, sweetheart," he said casually. "If you want to take your clothes off, far be it from me to stop you." Nothing in his posture or his voice gave him away, but she knew he was tense all the same. She could feel it radiating from him like heat from the sun.

And perhaps Conrad sensed it too, because his eyes had taken on a predatory glitter. It made Katya want to put her hands up, loosen her muscles, prepare to attack or defend. But she did neither, keeping her hands at her sides instead.

The round went on and she found herself gazing at Alex's hands. Long, with narrow fingers. The hands of a pianist. An artist. The hands that had touched her in the gym, given her such pleasure ...

One was curled loosely around the tumbler of vodka that had stayed at the same level for most of the past hour. The other was spread on his thigh. No one else could see, but she could. And she knew the knuckles of that hand were white.

"Straight flush," Conrad said, laying his cards on the table. "My round, I believe."

There were only two others still in. The American woman pulled a face and threw her cards onto the table while Alex laughed and did the same. "It's yours. Buckle up, Katya mine. This shit is about to get real."

Conrad's smile widened. He wasn't looking at Katya now; he was looking directly at Alex. "She can lose the dress."

Alex crossed one leg over the other, looking completely at ease. "Well, naturally she can lose the dress."

Katya began to reach behind her to grab at the zipper, but Conrad raised a finger.

"No. I don't want you to do it, sweetheart. I want him to take it off for you."