Chapter One

He was going to kill his brother.

Roman Steele muttered under his breath as he ended his shift, carefully checking the cards and organizing his table. He'd only been in Vegas for a few short weeks, and already his older brother was trying to run his life. First, he'd convinced him to transfer from Atlantic City, and now he'd forced him to set up a date through a matchmaking agency. Rome's temper cranked a notch. If there was one thing he didn't need help with, it was recruiting a female for company.

With methodical precision, he counted out chips and stacked decks while he brooded. The casino swung into overload as night arrived in full-blown Vegas style. The ching of the machines vibrated with noisy celebration and competed with screams of rivalry around the Roulette table. The lushness of the casino beckoned both the novice and experienced gambler to play. From the dripping crystal chandeliers, to the Merlot carpet, opulence was the buzzword of choice. Cocktail waitresses rushed by in low cut tops and short skirts with trays filled with vivid neon drinks. The familiar scents of exotic perfume, musk, and money drifted in the air. Rome held back a groan. He craved a soft bed and a hard drink. Alone. Instead, after weeks of being battered by his older brother, he’d set up this mysterious date. A date that beckoned with endless possibilities.

The perfect woman. The perfect night.

He snorted at the impossible thought. With a ridiculous name like FANTA-C, the exclusive matchmaking agency sounded like a whorehouse. But Rick was their greatest advocate. Seems he met the love of his life, Tara, through the agency and had settled into domestic bliss. Rome was damn happy for his brother, and adored Tara. But Rick was now doing what every single male succumbed to when he was hooked up into a monogamous relationship.

Turned his attention to all the other single males out there, whether they wanted love or not.

Rick had handed him a black and gold business card with the name FANTA-C scrolled in the front and a phone number on the back. He instructed him to call, using his name as the referral. Then burn the card.

Of course, being the pain in the ass brother Rome was, he asked Rick how he’d gotten a new one if Rick had been instructed to burn his original card. Seems once the date is successful, the place sends you a single business card to recruit one referral. There was no guarantee they’d find the perfect match though, so Rome figured nothing would occur, and he’d finally get his brother off his back.

Until he got the call. Guess he was the lucky winner.

Cha-ching.

Ah, hell. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe one night with the perfect woman would get him out of his rut. Mid thirties threatened and still he hadn't found someone to challenge his dominate side. Moving to Vegas only made him more depressed as he dated the same women over and over. Chasers of money and glory. These women were out for a man to finance their dreams, or to find a cheap thrill for the night. The other category contained a tight knit cluster of friends on a weekend visit for an episode of Girls Gone Wild. If he saw one more drunken wink with the accompanied drawl of “Everything in Vegas stays in Vegas” he'd hurl.

Crap, he was becoming a grump.

He ignored the deep pang in his gut and buried it with the ease of an expert. Images of a woman by his side for the long term haunted him. His relationships always seemed to lack something crucial. Rome craved a woman who challenged him on every level—inside and outside the bedroom. He desired someone who wouldn't fear his need for dominance and surrender, but without the strict rules and limits of a classical dom/sub relationship. He shook his head at his inner whining. He needed to get the hell over himself and get himself off. He'd probably feel better.

He mentally brought up the image and three-sentence biography he’d been sent. Sloane. No last name. She looked like a stunner, and faintly familiar, but the pic had been blurry. Short dark hair. Intense type eyes. The three sentences said she was career oriented, had a strong personality, and needed a man to challenge her. Not much else was in her file to solve the clue of why they’d been set up. Wonder why—

His phone vibrated with intensity. Rome glanced down at the text.

Are you ready to meet your date?

He hesitated. Hell, what did he have to lose? A night of great sex with no strings attached. Before he could change his mind, Rome found his fingers type one simple word.

Yes.

The phone shook in his palm as if in excitement. You will find her seated at the blackjack table, far right. Second chair from the left. Good luck.

The screen went blank.

Rome shook his head and his phone, as the charge seemed to drop. Then with a jump, his iPhone zinged back to life. Weird. His back itched right between his shoulder blades. The same damn feeling he always got when something big was going down. Like a cheat at his table counting cards. Or a woman about to play him.

He shut down his station and headed toward Table 6. He was taking this much too seriously. Hopefully, he’ll have a great night, be less cranky in the morning, and thank his older brother for the tip. No reason to bitch and look the proverbial gift horse in the mouth.

He stopped dead and stared at the woman in black at Table 6.

Her name suddenly rang through his head in a symphony of clanging bells. Sloane Keller. Champion of the World Series of Poker. “The Queen of Cards.”

Rome snapped his mouth closed before he resembled a guppy. Was this a joke? An updated version of Candid Camera? He'd been half in love with her since she stumbled on the card scene with a cold confidence that pissed everyone else off. She'd come from behind and won her first poker championship with the big boys. An unknown, unnamed long shot whom everyone laughed out of the game. With icy deliberation and a talent that blew him away, she blew every other player off the table and still never batted an eyelash with victory.

Shit. She was gorgeous.

His gaze swept over her with a greediness he never experienced. The woman practically exuded “I dare you” to any guy within her distance. Her hair shimmered under the lights, an exotic black cherry that fell pin straight to brush the top of her shoulders. Longish bangs hid most of her features until she turned her head, and then he caught a whirling impression of strength. A stubborn chin. High cheekbones. Arched dark brows. Thick eyelashes. Her lips were ruby red and not overly puffy like the normal Botox look that was so overdone. No, they were perfectly sculpted with just a hint of plumpness in the bottom. Her outfit added to the impression of lean power—a sleeveless black silk blouse, dark trousers, low-heeled sandals. She straddled the chair as she stared at her cards, her blood red toenails tapping on the bottom rung. Her fingers were lightning quick and her nails matched the color of her toes.

She must have sensed his stare, because her shoulders tightened and she swung her head around with a hint of annoyance.

Her gaze slammed into his with a fierceness and challenge that singed his nerve endings and his cock.

Eyes a deep violet sucked him in as deep as he imagined her wet channel would welcome him. But it wouldn't be easy. Everything about this woman screamed the need for an alpha to take her under him. Figuratively and literally.

Rome met her stare dead on and refused to look away. A few beats passed. Then she turned with a dismissive shake of her head, but he knew she was irritated she'd lost the skirmish. Satisfaction thrummed in his veins. Finally. A woman he could sink his teeth into without worrying if she'd break.

Why the hell had she signed up for a one-night stand? She had her own groupies—men who'd line up to take her to bed. She was a literal rock star in Vegas world.

He took stock of the situation. There must be a damn good reason she used FANTA-C, and he was going to find out. Obviously, she didn't give a crap he was already bought and paid for. She refused to stroll off with any man, even if she’d been the one to pursue the match. No, her deliberate action told him he'd need to earn his time with Sloane Keller.

A smile played about his lips.

Game on.

He closed the distance between them.