Temptation

Part 13

The casino was crowded; Las Vegas could be a most interesting place. There were all kind of people there that night, from poker players to couples who had escaped to get married, from exotic dancers to high society women. The smell of cigarettes, alcohol and a mix of expensive perfumes was the familiar and comfortable scent for Brendon, combined with an obnoxiously parade of bright colors and shine from clothes, lights and machines. However, that night, he could not feel comfortable.

His mind was still on Eleanor, and her face when she caught Heather groping him. He didn’t know why, but for some reason, the fact that she had seen that side of him bothered him very much. Eleanor’s expression was of disappointment, disgust and coldness, and that only made Brendon feel worse. Just when he had managed to make a deal with her, to get her to open up to him, when they were bonding in a strange yet familiar way, that had to happen.

Drinking his scotch with frustration, Brendon wondered what he was doing there, instead of being in Washington, insisting to talk to Eleanor and trying to explain everything to her. But explain what? What did he have to say to a girl seven years his junior for whom he had to work? The daughter of a powerful Senator, the man who would most likely become the next president of USA? Besides, he reminded himself, that was all for her safety after all; he had to catch Tatyana Khabarova to ensure Eleanor’s safety.

It was nearly 11PM, and the night was just starting. The inexperienced poker players were already finishing, ready to give place to the old snakes. Surely, Khabarova would be around; she was not a poker player, but she liked to know them, how much did they have and how could she manipulate them into her schemes.

And as he had thought, he finally found the breathtaking figure of a woman in a red dress that was practically glued to her perfect body, her blonde hair waving down her shoulders and her light eyes accentuated seductively with a great amount of eyeliner. Tatyana Khabarova was on her thirties, but she looked much younger. Smiling provocatively, she made her way to the bar, feeling all the eyes of the room on her, and gracefully crossing her phenomenal legs as she sat and ordered.

“Here we go, bitch.” Brendon thought, drinking the last sip of his scotch and putting on his best smile.

A woman like Tatyana Khabarova was hardly impressed by men buying her drinks or throwing pickup lines at her; no, the only thing that could catch her eye, the only thing that would interest her, was a power demonstration. And that was something Brendon could do incredibly well.

He walked directly to the poker table, carelessly and ignoring the curious glances. The table was formed by men Brendon had heard of; powerful bankers, billionaires with suspicious bank movements abroad and dangerous connections, though careful not to be directly connected to them. Old foxes, as Brendon would call them.

“New meat, eh?” One of them said maliciously as Brendon sat by the table. All the players looked at the newcomer with curiosity, but after a minute of examination, they snorted and smiled sarcastically. Clearly, none of them considered Brendon a threat; he was almost a joke. An inexperienced player trying to prove his skills by throwing himself in a lion cage. That was, of course, exactly what Brendon wanted them to think.

“I’m not Lady Gaga, but you folks can never dream on reading my fucking poker face.”

Brendon won the first game, surprising everyone in the room. The new boy surely had luck, one of them whispered. A second round was requested, and it was again his victory; so were the third, the fourth, the fifth, the tenth rounds. By that point, no one was laughing of the new boy. He was unreadable, a phenomenon. Having so easily won over a million dollars, Brendon discreetly looked at the bar, where Tatyana Khabarova was.

He had her attention; her eyes were focused on him, staring at him with interest and desire. He could tell she had been observing him all night. That was his sign.

“Gentlemen, ladies, I believe I am done for the night,” he announced, standing up from the poker table. “I will take my leave and let you play fairly.”

There were some fawning laughter and one of the old foxes even waved at Brendon. Carefully collecting his chips, he walked over to the bar balcony without looking at Khabarova.

“Scotch,” he ordered abruptly.

“You were unbelievable,” the sensual female voice with a tantalizing Russian accent sounded surprisingly close to him. He turned to see Tatyana sitting beside him, smiling warmly and provocatively.

“Well, like they say, in love and game, all it takes is just a leap of faith,” he replied, faking a perfect British accent.

“Who says that?” she asked raising a brow.

Brendon smiled broadly. “I do.”

Tatyana laughed, slightly approaching him. Her intoxicating scent of strawberries and champagne were making Brendon slightly dizzy.

“Who are you, mysterious boy?” she whispered. “I am here almost every night. I have never seen you before.”

“My name is Joshua Patterson,” Brendon replied. “I have just arrived in the US.”

“And where are you from?”

“Cambridge, UK.”

“What brings you here, apart from scaring the old circle of poker?”

“What else would bring a British man to this place?” He asked, taking another shot of scotch. “Business, my lady. Money. Always.”

“I take it that you have plenty of it,” she asked suggestively.

Brendon smiled. “Do you see those poker chips I’ve just won? They’re absolutely nothing to me. Alms, in the most.”

The talk of money caused Tatyana’s eye to glimpse. She had found a golden mine; a young man, a newcomer, still inexperienced, but filthy rich and talented.

“My name is Tatyana Khabarova,” she said, offering her hand. “And I wonder what you think of getting out of here and finding a more comfortable and quiet place.”

Brendon kissed her hand, and gently pulled her closer to him by her waist. Suddenly, the image Eleanor’s face crossed his mind, and his smile slightly faded away. “This is for her,” he thought, “It is for her safety. Do not ruin it, you idiot!”

“I think your idea fits perfectly on my plans for tonight.”