Lucky Devil Read online

  The Fury gasped. She was clearly unaware that more money collectors were heading their way. The ones who’d already caught up with Dean Parker had bled them dry of liquid assets. The Parker’s were in dire straight and they both knew it. Luc took a deep breath and lowered his voice.

  “Your family no longer has the right to sell off anything to pay his debts. That is why I’ve denied your brother’s request to make payments. I’m well aware that he has nothing left to make payments with, except for the company and land that now belongs to me. Dean Parker dug a hole he’ll never be able to crawl out of. Your brother should be receiving notice to vacate the property any day now.”

  She staggered back a few steps as if he’d slapped her.

  “Honestly, getting out now is the best thing for you. You and your brother need to get away from your father, and I mean fast, because they’re hunting for him as we speak. It’s only a matter of time before he’s found. I promise you, the people your father was doing business with won’t care who they hurt to get to your father. More than likely they’ll use his family against him. I’d hate to imagine the things they’d do to a sweet thing like you.”

  The color drained from her face, and her legs folded beneath her. Luc stiffened his jaw. It was best that she clearly understand her situation. He didn’t want to feel pity for her. He never pitied anyone, ever, but the spine it took to come all this way to face down a man she must surely believe is a demon –and that really wasn’t far from the truth– was impressive.

  That was it. He didn’t pity the sad little Fury, but he did feel the tiniest bit of admiration for her grit and determination to save what she believed to be hers. But it wasn’t hers any longer. It was Luc’s. And she and her family would have to learn to live with that.

  “I’m very sorry for you and your family that he did this to you, but I’m running a business, and he came prepared to deal with the deed in hand. This is Las Vegas. He knew what he was doing.”

  The devastation in her eyes was almost enough to move him. Whoever had decided to send this woman –that was likely her father– instead of coming himself was obviously hoping her lovely stricken face would sway him. It didn’t. Next the tears would start. It was all an act. One woman was just like the next, conniving and needy. Luc knew that their ranch was damned whether he took possession or not. They’d have to sell off all but the house and immediately surrounding land to be clear of the danger hanging over their heads. So he was getting his while the getting was good.

  “Rourke, get her to the airport, buy her ticket, and put her on the plane.” He instructed his severe looking head of security. It never took more than a stern look from Rourke to silence a woman. This woman, however, didn’t seem at all intimidated by the hulking man.

  “Yes, sir.” Rourke bent to help the now wilted Fury to her feet. She stood on trembling legs with her head hung low.

  “I drove here. I need my truck. I have to get home, back to my family before anything else happens. It took me all day to get here, fifteen hours.”

  She was speaking to Rourke now. Luc had been dismissed from her mind the moment she knew he wouldn’t be persuaded by a pretty face. Typical woman. If she thought Rourke would be of any help she was, again, sadly mistaken. Rourke was a happily married man, and he wanted to stay that way. Fool that he was.

  Luc needed a fucking drink. It had been the oddest evening. First he had to deal with a crying Jessica . . . Julie . . . Jennifer . . . whatever her name was, when he dismissed her before coming downstairs. Why did they always do that shit? They offer no-strings-attached pussy and get all whiny when you send them on their way. No one ever stayed in his apartment when he wasn’t home. When he was done, it was over. He never let anyone get too comfortable.

  Then he’d had to fight with a Fury. A Fury who now seemed a little dazed. He went and poured himself a scotch while Rourke led her gently to the door. He sighed and looked over the paperwork on his desk. He might as well get to work. He wouldn’t be going back to bed anytime soon.

  Luc thought he would finally be left alone when he settled into his high backed chair and fired up his tablet. He would check the stocks and scan his email before tackling the paperwork awaiting his signature.

  “Mr. Christianson.”

  Luc sighed. Maybe the woman was as thick headed as her father. He looked up but the Fury no longer looked quite so defeated. Yes, she was as crazy as her father, always going to the well one time too many. He didn’t think he could hold his temper any longer.

  “Yes, Ms. Parker?”

  “I’ll play you for it. Winner take all. Unless you don’t have the balls.”

  THREE

  The buzz of fear and impending unconsciousness filled Everly’s head. It wasn’t fear for herself she was feeling. No, as hard as Mr. L. Christianson might appear to be, Everly knew somehow that he wouldn’t do her any physical harm. The terror building in her chest was for the ones she loved so very much. The last day rushed back to her while she stared at the pattern in the carpet under her knees. It was something to focus on while the room was spinning. She’d never seen a carpet like that before.

  That was just one of the small and insignificant details that bombarded her brain as she tried to absorb the words of the cruel man who’d just crushed her hopes. Her brain pondered the masculine scent of the man who’d just brought her to her knees. The room was large and rather dark. There was a huge window along one wall but she hadn’t gotten close enough to see out of it. It was a curious thing considering they were in an interior room. There were more important concerns finally breaking through her awareness, like the danger her family was now in.

  The ride to Vegas had been long and dusty. The truck’s air conditioning had died halfway there. Mills had told her to take the new truck but she hadn’t listened. By the time she’d finally parked and made her way to The Inferno Hotel and Casino, Everly was hot, exhausted, thirsty, and ready for a long soak to get the road dust out of her hair. Things had gone downhill from there. It had taken several hours of acting like a mad woman, and one twisted arm, to get an audience with the king of Hell. You’d think he was a fucking king, resting indolently in the leather chair that may as well have been a throne. He gave her the overall feeling of being an insignificant speck of dust on his otherwise pristine day.

  The monstrous, but oddly chivalrous, security guard, Rourke, helped her to her feet. Everly was embarrassed. Her legs had ceased to hold her when the weight of her father’s sins had landed squarely on her shoulders. It was hopeless. There was nothing left for her to do but protect Kennedy and Mills from being caught in the crossfire. Her dream of a hotel room with a giant, steaming tub was out of the question. She had to get home before it was too late. She would have to call her brother to break the news first. Mills would need to be on the lookout for trouble.

  She was suddenly aware that she was mumbling. Rourke, the friendly giant, was gently guiding her away from the throne room while she babbled about her truck and family. What would she do with that family when she got home? Everly had no fucking clue. Parker Ridge was the only home they’d ever known. There was nowhere else to go.

  She ran a shaking hand through her messy hair while images of her siblings living out of a truck swam before her eyes. It was time to face facts. Their lives were changed forever over a card game. Even before that, really. According to King Christianson, their father had gambled away their future long before he signed away the ranch.

  Everly looked over her shoulder at the king on his throne. The man had a dark, seductive appeal she truly wished she’d been immune to. Evil people should be ugly so you knew what you were dealing with right up front. A man who runs the kind of business he did shouldn’t look like a dark angel with that wavy black hair and black eyes set perfectly in a masculine face she was sure could inspire poetry and romance novels. But there was something missing in his midnight eyes. Like he was somehow disconnected, until you pissed him off. She’d seen anger heat those eyes when she to
ld him what she really thought of men like him.

  She was almost to the door when he tossed back a slug of warm brown liquor from what was surely a crystal glass, maybe even diamond. Why not? He was the king after all. His long fingers tapped on the gleaming finish of his desk while he waited for his tablet to startup. She’d already been dismissed and forgotten. It would be easier to be dismissed by an ugly man.

  Everly mentally shook herself. She had a family to save. The dark stubble on his evil jaw didn’t fucking matter. A stack of cards on the corner of his desk caught her eye. She blinked. A thought struck Everly and she stopped in her tracks. Rourke gave her a, don’t do it, look of warning. She knew she’d pushed her luck when she lost her temper. She said things that could possibly have gotten her killed, and she suspected the fact that she was a woman had saved her neck today. Hopefully it would save her one more time.

  She would take a chance. If her father could lose their home in a game, why couldn’t she win it back? What did she have to lose? Nothing, that’s what!

  “Mr. Christianson.” She was proud that she didn’t sound as shaken as she felt.

  He sighed and his annoyance at her continued presence in the room was plain to see. He was reaching the end of his rope with her. Everly was glad to see it. He wouldn’t accept her challenge if she couldn’t bait him into playing. Why would he? He already had what he wanted.

  “Yes, Ms. Parker?” he replied on an exasperated breath of air.

  “I’ll play you for it. Winner take all. Unless you don’t have the balls.” She clenched her fists and turned to face the king on his throne. Mr. Christianson’s eyes widened. His fingers curled into a fist on his desk.

  Rourke grasped her upper arm more firmly than he had before and tugged her to the door. “Shut your mouth while you’re ahead,” he hissed in her ear.

  “Am I ahead? I hadn’t noticed. It doesn’t look like I have anything left to lose,” she hissed back.

  “I’ll escort her to the city limits, sir,” Rourke told Mr. Christianson.

  “Oh, you’re in charge, Rourke?” she asked him loudly. “I thought the king over there held the keys to the castle. Guess I was wrong. Guess he really doesn’t have the balls to play an honest game.”

  Mr. Christianson got to his feet. He didn’t look angry. He was flat and disconnected again. He wouldn’t be baited. It was all a waste of time. Her shoulders fell, and she stopped fighting Rourke. At least she’d learned how bad their situation really was. She and Mills would find a safe place for Kennedy before they dealt with their father and his bookies.

  “Rourke, stop.”

  “Fuck.” Rourke cursed under his breath but closed the door and released her arm.

  “What’s in it for me, Ms. Parker?” Mr. Christianson slowly made his way around his desk. “As I see it, you have nothing to gamble with.” He stopped right in front of her, and suddenly Everly felt the real danger she was in. He looked calm but the stiff line of his shoulders and the repeated clenching and unclenching of his jaw told a different story.

  “Money. We’ll pay off the debt if I win. You’ll still get your money back. It might take some time for us to sell some property, but you’ll get your money back,” she offered. He was right. What the hell could she wager? “We’ll keep the ranch, and you’ll get your money.”

  “You do realize this won’t solve your other problems? I’m not the only wolf at the door.” he asked.

  Holy shit, was he actually considering playing her for the ranch? He sounded like he was.

  “I realize that. I’m resigned to losing most of the business at this point. It will crush Mills . . .” She stopped. He didn’t care about her family. He didn’t care how hard Mills had worked to make the ranch thrive. All that mattered to him was the money. “We’ll still have to sell to get out of debt, but we would keep our family home and surrounds. My family would be safe. That’s what really matters.”

  Damn it. She wouldn’t cry. Not yet. Not here. Tears burned the back of her throat. How would she explain all of this to Mills and Kennedy?

  “Hmmmm . . .” He made a thoughtful noise and tapped his chin while he examined her from head to toe.

  “I have a better idea. Let’s raise the stakes, just a bit, for both of us.” He nodded thoughtfully and returned to his desk where he pulled out a sheet of paper and gold pen. He sat and began to write. Rourke was behind her mumbling something that sounded oddly like a prayer but could have been a long string of curses. Everly was sweating. Literally sweating. This must be what real anxiety was like. Her mouth was dry. She was cold, but the perspiration gathered on her brow and between her breasts anyway. She wiped her clammy hands on her jeans. What the hell was he writing over there?

  When Mr. Christianson finally looked up from the paper, she saw how pissed off he really was. The look in his eyes could have scorched her where she stood. Everly wished she’d joined Rourke in his prayer. He signed the paper and spun it in her direction before slamming the pen down on the page.

  “Let’s see exactly how big your balls are, Ms. Parker.” He stood and went to pour himself another drink.

  Everly stepped up to the desk and leaned in to look over the single page of tidy script without touching it. She gasped. If she won he was going to return the property entirely and forgive the debt. No strings attached. No payments. Mr. Christianson would gift the property, which he now legally owned, to Mills Parker, ensuring that her father wouldn’t be able to put them in this position again.

  Everly felt dizzy with relief. The gift this was didn’t escape her. Maybe he wasn’t such a monster after all. This would also allow Mills to do whatever needed to be done without interference from their father. If Mills had to sell off land or any portion of the company to keep them afloat . . . or to save her father’s life, it could be done without Dean Parker’s consent. They wouldn’t need to have him declared incompetent anymore.

  She looked up at Mr. Christianson. She didn’t get it. Why would he risk it?

  “I see I’ve piqued your interest. Keep reading, Ms. Parker.” He leered at her.

  She frowned and read on as he began to explain. Oh, God. No. She . . . couldn’t. She felt sick by the time she reached the bottom of the page.

  “Come now, Ms. Parker, where’s all of that bravado? You don’t like the terms? Are my balls too big for a little Fury like you to handle?” He was laughing at her. And she was pretty sure he’d just insulted her. Wasn’t a Fury a hideous mythical creature that spat acid and had snakes for hair? If that’s how he felt, why would he want her? He wanted to wager . . . for her. Her body for one month.

  “You aren’t so eager to play now, are you, Ms. Parker?” He chuckled. “There’s the door. You can leave whenever you like. Either sign the contract and accept the terms of the wager or get the fuck out of my town.”

  She stared at the wretched page on his desk. If she won, half the battle would be over. Mills would own Parker Ridge and the business. They would be able to keep their home and sell whatever they had to in order to pay off the gambling debts.

  If she lost, he would take the business, which was worth enough to pay off the debt many times over, but he would allow them to keep the house, half the property, and half of the livestock. They could start over. She believed in her brother. He would build a bigger better company in time. She couldn’t think about what they would do about the other lenders right now.

  If she lost, Everly would lose something else. She’d also lose a part of herself. She wasn’t sure her self-respect would survive the ordeal. People often said they would do anything for the people they loved. What if anything included losing a piece of your soul? What if your self-worth was a risk? Could she lose herself to protect her family? Damn right she would. Her family was worth her very life if that was what was needed.

  Everly picked up the heavy gold pen. What was one month of her life compared to her family’s security? She stood in front of the desk. Mr. Christianson put his hand on the page and she jumped.
She hadn’t believed he was standing so close.

  “I want to be sure you understand this completely before you sign it, Ms. Parker.”

  Of course, he didn’t want her to sign it. If she left, he would keep everything. She must have done a better job baiting him than she’d believed. He suddenly seemed to be rethinking his wager.

  Everly looked up into his brooding face then and she saw something she didn’t expect. He was concerned . . . for her. He’d been calling her bluff with his offer. He didn’t think she would go through with it. Could she do it? Could she sell herself to save the business? No, she couldn’t, but she would do anything for her family. Maybe she would win and leave today with the deed to the ranch back in her hands. If not, she would never tell her siblings. Never.

  “The wager is this: If I win, my brother gets everything, the house, the business, the ranch, all of it. We walk away clean with no money owed and no payments to be made.” She paused to wait for him to acknowledge her understanding.

  “If I lose you keep the company, half the land, and half the livestock.” She gripped the pen so tightly her fingers were bloodless. Rourke was looking perplexed in the corner.

  He nodded again, “And?” This was obviously where he thought she would break. Honestly, he’d made the choice easy for her. Nothing, not even her dignity, was worth more to her than her family. She wasn’t a virgin. He wasn’t a monster. She would survive it.

  “And, if I lose, you get me for a month. I will be at your beck and call for thirty full days,” she finished.

  Rourke was murmuring again. It was definitely curses this time. Mr. Christianson frowned down at her. Everly swallowed her pride. She might win, and this would all mean nothing.

  She slid the contract out from under his hand and signed her name beneath the signature that already graced the page. She blinked and focused on his signature.

  Lucifer Christianson. The L in Mr. L. Christianson stood for Lucifer. His name was Lucifer. She’d just made a deal with the devil. Worse than that, she’d never played a hand of cards in her life.