Page 16

“I can’t believe you’ve never played poker.” Chan sat cross-legged on the bed, shuffling the cards in front of him. Even casual, with borrowed clothes in an underground bunker devoid of natural light, he looked like a model.

I, on the other hand, didn’t have a blow-dryer or makeup, plus my clothes were picked out by a guy with zero fashion sense beyond “these things were in her closet,” so I was sure I looked spectacular.

Life wasn’t fair.

Our guards had finally given us the deck of cards after nearly a week of our pestering because we had nothing to do. Apparently badgering the guards was bad for business, so Holt relented.

Holt had also kept his word, taking me on daily excursions that made zero sense. He’d shown me the tunnels and talked for hours about how blood was thicker than water and his vision for the new world. How once he’d believed anyone could be bought, but after being betrayed by the CIA agent, he now planned on passing his empire to me because I was the only person who had his blood in their veins. I just had to prove myself worthy. Yada yada.

My father really was a madman, and the more time I spent in his company, the more obvious it became. Still, I’d learned not to push him. Not when he could kill me in my sleep. I did have some self-preservation instincts. I kept hoping he might give Chan and me more freedom if I played along, so I tried to hide my fear whenever he said anything too horrific. Which was often.

“ Just wait ,” he’d said. “ You don’t believe in our mission now, but one day you’ll see I’m right about everything. I named you Karma for a reason, and together we’ll give the leaders of the world exactly what’s coming to them. ” He’d gotten this feverish look in his eyes, and I’d tried really hard not to tip his emotions off the edge.

He didn’t give up on the aerosolizing thing either. I needed a stronger term than helicopter parent for the way he always hovered over my shoulder. He’d watched me test different combinations in the lab, always hoping for some mixture that wouldn’t need a nebulizer. I wasn’t sure how long I could hold him off.

I learned how he’d come to find me before the CIA had. For years, he’d been paying off employees in each of the major ancestry databases across the globe. If anyone’s DNA matched his, they’d contact him before they sent the results back to the recipient. He knew I was his daughter before anyone else did. That’s when he sent Xander to Virginia to pick me up.

Holt always seemed to be two steps ahead, and the longer I spent in his company, the more hopeless everything felt.

It usually took at least a full two hours after returning to my room for me to stop shaking whenever he collected me for another one of his “lessons.” Luckily I had Chan to help me take my mind off things.

Chan, and now poker, apparently.

“The rules are more complicated than reconstructing a broken LEGO set without the instructions,” I said, “so sue me for skipping that experience of summer camp.”

I laughed at my own joke.

Chan’s expression turned soft as he smiled. “Have I ever told you that you have the perfect laugh?” He shuffled the cards, watching me from behind his lashes.

I shook my head and self-consciously tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

“I hear some people’s voices better than others,” he explained. “Like men’s voices can be too low for me to easily pick up their pitch, so I have to concentrate more and watch their lips while they speak. Or the range of some women’s voices can be so high that they sound tinny or robotic on my hearing aids. But your voice is right in that sweet spot that makes it easy for me to hear.” He smiled. “I like the sound of your voice.”

Warmth bloomed through my chest. It was such an unusual compliment—so I already wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Then Chan took things one step further.

“But I love the sound of your laugh more than anything.”

He set the deck of cards aside, and my mouth went dry. His grin was lopsided, pulling up on one corner as he took in my thunderstruck expression. There weren’t many times in my life when I could say it, but I was speechless.

After a moment, Chan looked at the walls surrounding us and drew in a breath. “We’ll get out of here soon. And when we do, I’m going to make you laugh every day.”

If only that could be true.

“Promise?” I asked, holding out my pinky. This made him laugh, and he took my finger with his, shaking our hands together.

“Promise.”

He let go, and my pinky burned where our skin had touched. It was a feeling I wished I could bottle up and keep forever.

Chan picked up the cards again and began dealing them out. He cleared his throat. “So, poker.”

I’d actually gotten used to the fact that I didn’t have my phone down here. I liked that Chan and I spent more time talking together as a result. But right now, I wished I had a camera so I could capture the red that stained Chan’s cheeks and the way his hair fell forward across his eyes.

“Yes, poker,” I repeated.

“We have the time for you to learn it now.” Chan looked at the door. “And it’s not like we can go anywhere.” He still hadn’t been allowed to leave the room, poor guy. I’d only been allowed to leave with Holt, but honestly, I wished I didn’t get those little excursions.

I frowned. I’d rather we kept talking, but if it mattered that much to him, I supposed I could play along. “Okay, the real reason I haven’t learned before now is that it’s boring.” I picked up the hand he’d dealt me. “And while I understand the concept of a full house or royal flush, I just don’t see the point.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Clearly you’ve been playing cards with the wrong people, because there’s nothing boring about poker.”

I looked at my hand. A nine and a queen. That meant nothing to me. At least one of them was high?

“Poker is like espionage,” he said. “You have to read people, know the stakes, bluff your way through situations, and do the best you can with the cards you’ve been dealt.”

I was all too aware of the camera in our room, so I was careful not to give anything away. I shrugged. “If you say so.”

Chan let out a huff of air. “Okay then. How about we make things more interesting?”

I raised an eyebrow. “How do you plan on doing that?”

“Easy.” He set down the deck he’d been holding and stood, going over to where we stored our clothes. “Strip poker.”

At first, I thought he was going to grab more layers for us to remove, and I was relieved. After all, I’d told him I’d never played poker before, so more layers was giving me a fighting chance.

Right?

Wrong.

Chan grabbed more clothes, all right. But he didn’t bring them back to the bed. He strode over to the camera in the corner, placing a shirt over the lens before returning to the bed.

I glanced at the door. I was estimating it’d take about five seconds for whoever was watching our video feed to alert our babysitters that their monitor had gone dark.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One of the guards opened the door.

Chan spoke over his shoulder, “Oh, get over it. You know we’re not going anywhere, you perverts.”

There was some grumbling between the guards. The one who entered looked at the camera, and I shot Chan a bemused glance. I started to get up to remove the shirt, but Chan put a hand on my knee.

They’ll be fine , he signed. Just ignore them .

I bit my lip, carefully not looking at his hand on my leg.

Okay then. It looked like we were definitely going forward with this strip poker thing. No backing out now.

Did I want to back out? I mean, I definitely wasn’t opposed to seeing Chan shirtless again. I was rather looking forward to it, in fact. It had been almost a week with hardly any kind of physical contact aside from the random brushes at night when one of us turned over, and it almost felt like a personal attack at this point.

I just wasn’t sure I was ready for this step.

Chan was all muscles and toned abs. I was all soft and curvy.

But he was the one who had suggested this game, which had to mean something. Something like…maybe Chan wanted to see me as much as I wanted to see him. Plus, after the way he’d said he loved my laugh more than anything, well, it gave me the courage I needed to say yes.

I nodded, swallowing down my objections about the same time as the guard left our room, closing the door behind him. The resulting silence made my own thoughts seem loud in comparison.

Just Chan and me, sitting on a bed about to play strip poker. Nothing to see here, folks.

At least, not yet.

I licked my lips and tried to turn my brain off. Well, Chan had been right about one thing. This was certainly one way to make poker more interesting. And to make me forget about Holt for a while.

“What do we use as betting chips?” I asked. Maybe if I focused on the rules, I wouldn’t focus on…everything else.

Chan looked around, pursing his lips as he did so.

Nope. I looked away. I was not going to focus on his lips. Focusing on his lips would only make me think of how much I wanted him in other ways. And how we were already on a bed. And how the camera was now covered.

How was I supposed to bluff my way through this game if I couldn’t even look at the guy?

Chan got off the bed again, causing it to dip. He returned a minute later with two of the packages of trail mix we’d been given as part of our lunch earlier in the day.

“Peanuts will be the small blind,” he said. “They’ll count as a dollar. The M&M’s are the big blind and will count as two.”

“Obviously,” I replied. “Chocolate is definitely worth more.” I shook out my bag of trail mix. “What happens if I eat the M&M’s?”

Chan eyed the mix on the bed. “Hmm. There aren’t that many M&M’s to begin with. Maybe raisins should be the big blind.”

I scrunched my nose and Chan laughed. “Raisins it is. Feel free to eat the M&M’s.”

With that, I popped a few in my mouth, but the chocolate did nothing to ease my nerves. Chan divvied up the peanuts and raisins into equal piles, explaining the rules while he did so. “You can call, raise, fold, or check during the betting rounds,” he said before describing what each term meant. “There are four of those.”

My eyes glazed over somewhere between when he was talking about the flop and a river. And he wondered why I’d never learned poker before…well, this was why.

“When are we starting?” I asked, impatient. Why did poker have so many rules? And more importantly, when were we going to get to the stripping part?

Chan laughed. “Now you’re eager to play? Why the change of heart?”

I blushed and pushed my hair over my shoulder. “Well, uh, now that I’ve decided to do this thing, I might as well get it over with.”

“Sure,” Chan said. “That’s why.” He grinned, and I smacked him lightly on the arm. This only made him laugh and he nodded to my cards.

“Okay, ante up.”

I looked at my cards again. A nine of spades and queen of hearts. He hadn’t placed any cards in the middle yet, so for this part I had to guess whether I might have a good hand. Well, great. I had no clue.

I pushed a peanut into the middle of the bed and looked across to Chan. He was watching me with amusement in his eyes as he put in a raisin.

“Is it too late to put on my shoes?” I asked.

“It’s too late,” he confirmed.

Awesome. This was going well.

I tried to bluff my way through the first round. It didn’t work. Because by the time the final bets were on the table, I definitely had the losing hand. I let out a huff and tossed my cards onto the bed.

“That should be a practice round,” I said. “I’ve never played before.”

One side of Chan’s mouth quirked up. “Sure.” He brought a hand to his mouth, clearly trying to hide his smile. “That can be a practice round.”

No. I would not take his mocking pity.

Glaring, I took off my sweatshirt and tossed it to the side. I could practically hear whoever was supposed to be listening to our video monitor laughing at me, but I tried not to think about it. Only a T-shirt to go before I was down to my bra. Nope. Not thinking about that either. Maybe I’d go with my socks next. One at a time so Chan would really have to wait for it. I’d started this game thinking I’d get to see Chan’s abs, but now I was beginning to suspect he’d tricked me from the start.

Sneaky spy.

Chan was still holding back his laughter, so I raised my eyebrows. “My deal?”

He handed me the deck, and I shuffled it.

This hand went a lot like the first—namely that I had no clue what I was doing besides pretending I did. So, pretty much like my life. He had to instruct me when to burn a card, when to deal out more cards, and when to bet my meager supply of trail mix. In the end, he folded and I got a few precious peanuts back. But when he tossed his cards down, I could see his cards were better than mine. Which meant he’d lost on purpose.

My bluffing wasn’t that good. But I had to say, when his shirt came off, I couldn’t really muster up the energy to care.

Stare , yes. Care , no.

I didn’t bother to hide it either. There wasn’t much point. Back in the lab, I had to pretend like I saw this kind of thing every day. Here in our room, I could appreciate the way he obviously took care of his body. And I’d cooled off from a week ago when I wondered whether he might be a double agent. Or maybe the better phrasing was that I’d heated up. Because seeing him shirtless was definitely doing things to me. And the way he’d taken care of me in the days since made it difficult to see him as a bad guy.

So much so that I didn’t care as much when I lost the next three hands. My socks and shirt were now gone. But when Chan lost the next one, he skipped straight to his pants, and I didn’t feel bad about it.

Awkward, yes, when I considered that if I lost another hand, the only thing between Chan and me would be our underwear and repressed sexual attraction.

Oh, and the camera recording everything we said. Couldn’t forget that.

I scrutinized the cards. I already had a pair, which wasn’t a lot. Or I could bet more and hope Chan turned over a card that might give me a straight.

Did I play it safe with my bet? Or did I go big, bluffing my way through things if I didn’t get the card I wanted?

How did people play this game when their clothes were on the line?

When I felt like I’d waited too long and owed Chan an explanation, I sucked in a breath. “I’ve never been much of a gambler, I guess.”

Chan turned his head toward me and nodded like he understood. But he always acted so confident, I doubted he really did.

He watched me over his cards. “Sometimes you have to take a chance.”

Was I supposed to read into that? I wasn’t sure. My ever-dwindling pile of peanuts seemed to mock my poor decision-making skills, and I let out a sigh before betting a raisin.

“You’re too in your head,” Chan said. “Try to think of something else.”

Hard to do when there was the possibility that I would soon be showing more skin than I did at the beach, but okay.

Chan placed a burn card to the side before dealing the next round. “Tell me something I don’t already know,” he said, clearly trying to help me with the whole getting-out-of-my-head agenda.

“Hmm.” I rubbed my arms while I thought. What to tell Chan? Whatever it was, I’d have to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t draw suspicion. Holt thought we were dating, and couples would know a lot of personal things about their significant other.

“You know how I just started this job at the fireworks facility a few months ago?”

Chan smiled. Of course he probably didn’t know that. But I continued anyway. “Well, lately my coworkers have started calling me Superstar as a jab, all because…” I trailed off.

Chan was smart. He filled in the blanks. “Yeah.”

And that was one thing he actually did know about me.

“I’m sorry. That’s awful,” he said. Then, seeming to remember he needed to keep up our charade, he added, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I sucked in a breath. “I was embarrassed, I guess.” I placed my bet for the round. “I’m a grown woman dealing with bullies in the workplace. And if I’m being honest, the nickname wasn’t just because of…that, even though that’s why it started.”

I didn’t mention Keith Huxley-Beck’s name. I didn’t need Holt knowing any more about my past than I chose to tell him.

Chan waited patiently while I struggled to find the words to explain what I was feeling.

“It’s also because I have a problem with being a team player and doing things on my own rather than asking for help. And I’m trying to be better, but it’s still something I struggle with and I didn’t want to admit that to you.” I smiled. “I want you to think I don’t have any flaws.” I looked around at the limestone bricks surrounding us. “And now it seems so stupid. There are obviously bigger problems in the world than whatever names my coworkers call me.”

He placed a hand on my knee. “Just because there are horrific things going on in the world doesn’t mean your individual problems are any less significant. There will always be bigger battles to fight, but if we let that stop us from living our lives or allowing ourselves to feel emotions about those things, whether it’s happy, sad, or somewhere in between, then we’ve lost those battles.” He withdrew his hand from my knee and placed the next burn card to the side before dealing out one more card to the center of the bed.

“Besides,” he said. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t care. Everyone has flaws. And I still think you’re a superstar. But for real. You’re the most incredible person I’ve met.”

Chan had this amazing ability to make me feel better about myself. Even when I’d been kidnapped and was currently held against my will in the underground tunnels of Paris, he made it seem like things weren’t so bad. Like we’d get through this—together.

As for my flaws? He was the reason I wanted to be a better person. Because he was a better person. I’d wasted so much time on men who only cared about themselves, but Chan never failed to put others first, and I wanted to be like that too.

Did I actually think he was lying about taking the pills? Did I think he was some kind of double agent?

No. Because I couldn’t imagine someone as genuinely amazing as him doing something like that. I didn’t want to imagine it. And the more I got to know Chan, the less likely any of that seemed.

Earlier I’d been worried about bonding with Chan simply because of a traumatic situation. I wasn’t sure how to tell when he was being real. Now I realized he was always real. This was who Chan was. He didn’t have to pretend for the camera, because he didn’t have anything to hide. I already knew his secrets. It was Holt he was pretending for—not me. I wasn’t sure why it’d taken me so long to fully realize it.

There never seemed to be enough air in the catacombs, but now I felt breathless from the epiphany. Heat radiated from my chest and made me weightless. I could probably light up this entire room with just my internal glow.

Before I could stop myself, I grabbed Chan’s hand that had been on my knee only a second ago and brought his palm to my lips, kissing it lightly. He closed his eyes like I’d given him the world’s greatest treasure instead of a simple kiss on his hand, and I blushed. He was the gift. I released his hand and cleared my throat.

“What about you?” I asked.

He tilted his head. “You’re cold?”

Now it was my turn to look confused. “No.” Which was surprising, considering the clothing situation. Or lack thereof.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Oh. I thought you said your lips were blue.”

Did he think that was why I kissed his hand? That miscommunication needed to be cleared up, pronto.

“No, I said, What about you? Not my lips are blue . What’s something I don’t know about you?”

His grin was one of relief. “Sorry, you know how I mishear things sometimes, even with my hearing aids.”

True story. We’d encountered this many times over the past week or so. But having him mishear me now made me bite back a smile. Because it meant he was just as unsure as me. We were wading into unfamiliar territory now with real emotions attached, and he didn’t want to push my boundaries if I wasn’t ready for it.

Chan thought about my question a moment while he tapped his cards on his leg. I’d seen him do that once before—when he’d ended up losing his pants. I sat up straight and tried not to let anything show on my face.

He threw another raisin into the pile, and I threw in two raisins as nonchalantly as I could.

“Well,” he said. “You’ve met my mom. You know she can be a bit demanding.”

I had not, in fact, met his mother. But I obviously didn’t say so, and let Chan continue.

“I actually went to law school for a while before pursuing my current job, just so I could make her happy.”

His current job, as a spy. Which I also didn’t say. But it was just like him to put his mother’s happiness above his own until he couldn’t pretend any longer. That sounded exactly like the man I was coming to know.

“Really?” I asked. “You mean you were almost a lawyer?”

“Instead of an accountant,” he confirmed.

I smirked. An accountant. Did anyone buy that lie?

“My attention to detail is top-notch because of it,” he said. “It’s probably part of what makes me so good at my job now.”

I thought of the overlapping skills a lawyer and spy might possess. Hadn’t his superior officer said Chan was some sort of strategist? I conceded his argument with a shrug. Then I threw down my cards.

“Full house.” I raised an eyebrow.

He put his cards down, showing me he only had a pair.

“Was that part of your strategy ?” I asked.

One side of his mouth quirked up. “Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t.”

“You owe me one article of clothing.” I crossed my arms. Chan’s gaze dipped to my chest, which I was only now aware was on full display by doing that. Well, it wasn’t like I could uncross my arms now.

Plus, he didn’t seem to mind.

Chan only had his underwear and socks left, so I wasn’t surprised when he chose a sock. Not surprised, but okay, maybe a little disappointed. I still had my pants though, so I couldn’t blame him.

I raked in my winnings and collected the cards so I could shuffle them.

“Okay, it’s your turn to tell me something.” Chan leaned back on one elbow.

I dealt the cards and considered what else to say. We played in silence for a bit while I collected my thoughts.

“You know how I moved around a lot growing up?” I finally asked.

Chan nodded like this was something he knew, instead of brand-new information I’d just revealed.

“We never stayed in one place long enough for me to really make friends.” I flipped the last card. “So I had an imaginary friend.” I cleared my throat. “I guess I’ve always had a hard time with my peers, which is why I care so much about not messing things up with you.”

I looked over to see how he’d react. “That doesn’t scare you away?” I asked.

“I’m all in.” Chan pushed his pile of snacks into the center and fixed me with a solid gaze.

There were so many things I could interpret there. About his expression. His statement. The way he watched me, half-naked while he lounged on the bed and we talked about our personal lives.

The thing I didn’t know was what to do now.

Chan was right about this being a game of secrets and espionage. The cards were saying just as much as our words.

What kind of message did I want to give him? If I folded, did that say I wasn’t interested? That I only wanted him in a fake boyfriend sense? I didn’t want that. But I could see him interpreting it that way if I “gave up” and folded just when he’d told me he was all in. On the other hand, if I put in all my chips, did that say I rejected whatever he was presenting too? Saying his offer wasn’t enough and I could do better?

I was so not ready for this level of subliminal messaging.

I threw my cards face down on the pile.

“All yours.” I didn’t break eye contact.

Chan’s eyes darted to my lips before returning to my eyes. There was a question there.

I did my best to answer it.

Then he was over on my side of the bed, pushing me back into the pillows and kissing me with way more emotion than I could imagine being just pretend. My hands buried into his hair, keeping him from going anywhere in case he had any ideas about stopping now. His fingers were at my waist, touching my bare skin and pulling me closer.

Realizing I was wasting the perfect opportunity, I moved my hands from his hair to his chest, feeling his muscles move under my fingertips. While my hands moved lower, his moved higher around my sides until I grew dizzy with want.

Still, he made me wait while he trailed kisses down my neck and past my collarbone. I arched into him, suddenly overheated. Every nerve ending in my body was short-circuiting, drowning out all rational thought.

I was acutely aware that I was mostly naked, making out with a man who I was 100 percent attracted to with no one to stop us.

But I was also acutely aware that even though the camera couldn’t see us—it could still pick up every sound. It wasn’t like either of us was being quiet. And the people monitoring knew exactly what was going on.

I might be one for trying new things, but I wasn’t one for an audience—any kind of audience—even if it was just listening in. I wasn’t about to let my first time with Chan be my first time being recorded either.

He seemed to come to the same conclusion, because we pulled back and looked toward the camera in the far corner, our temples resting against each other while we both breathed heavily. After a minute, his eyes seemed to focus, and he wiped a hand down his face.

I’m sorry , Chan signed, sitting back so I could more easily see his hands. I didn’t mean for things to go that far. I got carried away and I shouldn’t have.

I shook my head. Don’t apologize, I signed back. I sat up and bit my lower lip. It’s not that I wasn’t feeling it. Obviously.

Chan blinked. Then he smiled and leaned over to kiss me, my heart speeding up in response.

When he pulled back, he pushed a hand through his hair. I know I should have more control. You just do things to me, Andee. His smile was wolfish, and it was quite possibly the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. He tilted his head, and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me again, but he only reached over to pull a peanut out of my hair.

I laughed and hopped off the bed in search of my shirt. Chan pulled his pants on, and a pang of regret swept through me.

There were so many things I wanted.

To get out of here. To put my father behind bars. A future with Chan.

They all felt like a pipe dream.