09-06-2013, 11:59 AM
Jaxen seemed cautious; more cautious than she would have guessed, from her brief impression of him. Perhaps he suspected Jon of being a con-artist – and maybe he was – but it was a fucking game, and Oriena was far too convinced of her of her own self-assuredness to worry about consequences. Of the game itself – well, she didn’t much care for it, nor for rules. It was Jaxen’s narrowed eyes that fuelled her desire to take part, and her smile sharpened on that weakness, teasing the glance he threw her way with wicked promise. What’s the worst that could happen?
Ori had worked in bars and clubs most of her adult life, and these sorts of drinking games were not unknown to her. The names and individual rules might change, but the intended result was usually the same, and she didn’t pay rapt attention while Jon outlined his “Numbers’ Gambit.” Her head was more full of why. She, at least, was convinced there was more to this than met the eye, and since the mystery rankled, she would remain pliant for as long as it took to find answers. Or until she grew bored. Fifty-fifty chance on that one. “There are plenty of gambling houses in Moscow. You’re in completely the wrong place, you know.”
The hint of a smile softened what was otherwise blatant scorn as she gestured the decadent stage.
At the stakes her brows rose, amused, and she missed Jon’s suspiciously elegant retrieval of the things the serving girl brought because her gaze had drawn naturally to Jaxen. It was a juvenile distraction, a basic truth or dare setup – the kind of thing she’d used to incite years ago in the shit-heaps she’d once worked, because it amused the customers and filled the coffers. Kallisti had its own games – not usually with dice and rules, admittedly – and since it was Jaxen’s table, she was hostess enough to realise the decision ultimately rested with him. Not that her courtesy extended to letting him back down easily. Temptress that she was, brazen challenge lit her eyes.
She offered Jaxen a card, caught between two fingers. “Ready to lose?”
Ori had worked in bars and clubs most of her adult life, and these sorts of drinking games were not unknown to her. The names and individual rules might change, but the intended result was usually the same, and she didn’t pay rapt attention while Jon outlined his “Numbers’ Gambit.” Her head was more full of why. She, at least, was convinced there was more to this than met the eye, and since the mystery rankled, she would remain pliant for as long as it took to find answers. Or until she grew bored. Fifty-fifty chance on that one. “There are plenty of gambling houses in Moscow. You’re in completely the wrong place, you know.”
The hint of a smile softened what was otherwise blatant scorn as she gestured the decadent stage.
At the stakes her brows rose, amused, and she missed Jon’s suspiciously elegant retrieval of the things the serving girl brought because her gaze had drawn naturally to Jaxen. It was a juvenile distraction, a basic truth or dare setup – the kind of thing she’d used to incite years ago in the shit-heaps she’d once worked, because it amused the customers and filled the coffers. Kallisti had its own games – not usually with dice and rules, admittedly – and since it was Jaxen’s table, she was hostess enough to realise the decision ultimately rested with him. Not that her courtesy extended to letting him back down easily. Temptress that she was, brazen challenge lit her eyes.
She offered Jaxen a card, caught between two fingers. “Ready to lose?”
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