Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance (29 page)

ACKNOWLEGEMENTS

I
want to thank all of the readers that waiting for this book, despite me moving
the date back on it a couple of times.  The last year was busier than I
expected, and I never seemed to get enough time to write. 

My
plan is for 2016 to be much more prolific, and for any readers that are still
following my work, I hope to get a lot more titles out to you this year than
last.

Hopefully
you enjoy each one even more than the last.

Thank
you again for reading my work.

BONUS BOOKS

To
thank you for reading, I’m including the full copies of both of my previous
books right here, and right now.
Trust
is actually the book that came
before
Silver and Chrome
, and follows the story of Lila and Chase.  Lila
was Evelyn Silver’s roommate back when they both lived in Toronto.

The
other book I’m including is
Fighting for Salvation
.  That was my debut
novel, and tells the story of the romance between Joel and Amber. 

I
hope you enjoy them both.

Both of these free books are brought to you by the
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Gems of Romance
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TRUST

Chapter One

"If I win, I get the girl."

It was said so matter-of-factly that it didn't register with me
until I heard it a second time, after Harrison asked him to repeat it.

"You're in over your head, kid, that much is obvious,"
the other man continues, eying the small stack of chips left in front of my
boyfriend meaningfully.  He had just shoved a large stack of his own chips
into the pot that more than eclipsed what Harrison had in front of him. 
"Instead of risking what you have left, which isn't much, I'm suggesting
we change the stakes.  You win, you get everything in the pot."

With the chips he had just added, that would more than cover the
heavy losses Harrison had accumulated in the last couple of days. 
"But if I win, the girl comes home with me."

This time I knew I heard what he said and it sounded just as
ludicrous as it did originally.  Obviously he was joking, or crazy, if he
thought Harrison would agree to something like that.

The man lifts the dark sunglasses he's wearing up and off his
face as he shifts his gaze up to me.  His eyes are a cobalt blue, sitting
beneath short blond hair and above a finely chiseled, unshaven jaw.  Under
normal circumstances he'd be drop dead gorgeous, but the fact that he is calmly
trying to negotiate a price for my ass makes him decidedly less so.

I glance down at Harrison who is also looking up at me.  I
expect to see a familiar grin on his lips, the one that tells me we are both
sharing the same joke.  But what I see is something else entirely. 
One of his eyebrows is raised, and his green eyes are staring at me intently,
as if he is either considering this ludicrous proposal or asking for my
permission.

I shake my head slightly with a frown, annoyed that I even need
to give my opinion on the matter.

Harrison looks back at the poker player across from him.  "Deal,"
he finally says.

It's just a single word, but it's the only one needed to crash
my whole world.

So many things seem to happen at once in the moments that
follow, my senses seem to jumble with time itself and I don't even know in what
order everything occurs.

There's a collective gasp that comes from onlookers, both those
sitting at the table and others who are just standing around watching. 
For some reason, a lot of people are drawn to this game, despite the fact that
until this particular bet, the stakes haven't been abnormally high.

Cards are flipped, but I'm no longer paying attention to what
they are.  Despite Harrison's love of the game, and gambling in general,
I've never taken any big interest in poker.  The important point is, once
the hand is over, the reaction from everyone around us tells me all I need to
know.

Harrison has lost.

As soon as the cards are turned he's on his feet, explaining the
unexplainable.  "Unbelievable!  There's no way I thought he had a boat
there, baby.  I thought for sure I had him, and then all of our troubles would
have been solved.  I'd have won all my money back in one hand!" 

All of
our
troubles?  He convinced me to come with him on
this trip using a lie about working on our relationship, but ever since we've
landed he's spent all of his time at the poker tables.  He lost money
yesterday, and I'm pretty sure he went back after I fell asleep and lost some
more.

Harry is still talking, still trying to explain, but I'm too
stunned to listen as I stare down at the table and the stranger sitting across
from us.   The dealer has shoved the huge pile of chips toward him in a messy
assortment of hard, plastic, primary colors, but he's ignoring them as if they
aren't worth thousands of dollars.  Instead, he's watching me behind an
expressionless mask of blue eyes and blond stubble.  I wrench my gaze away
and back to Harrison.  He's still talking.  Still explaining.  I
haven't heard much, but I don't need to.  I've had enough.  I don't
need to listen anymore.  I've spent too long listening in the past.  I can
recite the excuses by heart.

"You gambled me away," I say simply.  It isn't
any more complex than that.

He shakes his head, still in denial over what seems so
undeniable to me now.  We're done.

"Lila," he begins, but I shake my head again.

"Don't." 

I can't imagine a single thing he can say right now to change
the way I feel.  In my mind, the last few months have been leading up to
something like this.  An inevitability that I've been trying to ignore,
but now that it's here, I already feel strangely calm about.

Of course, in my mind I hadn't imagined it would go down like
this.  Thousands of miles from home, having my boyfriend of the last seven
months casually gamble me away to a complete stranger for the equivalent of a
few thousand dollars.  Yet in a way, it makes sense.  At least in
terms of my relationship with Harrison.

But it leaves me without a plan forward.  Our flight home
isn't until Monday morning and it's only Friday night.  I have no
intention of going back to the hotel with Harrison now.  It would give him
the wrong idea.  This needs to end, and I have no intention of letting him
talk me out of it again.  This betrayal is the final straw.  He's
hurt me for the last time and, despite being at peace with the decision, I'm
still so angry I want to hurt him back.

I look over at the other player.  He's still watching me
with that handsome but expressionless face.  Still ignoring the pile of
money in front of him.  Other people are watching as well, many of them
whispering to each other.  I just want to get out of there.

"What's your name?" I ask, finally addressing him.

The whispering grows louder, a few people exchanging questioning
looks as if my question is any more ludicrous than the rest of the last 15
minutes have been.  The corner of his mouth curls up into a little half
smirk, and his blue eyes continue the smile.

"Chase," he says.  "Chase Anderson."

"Okay, Chase Anderson.  Get me the hell out of
here."

Ch
apter
Two

"I'm not sleeping with you," I say as I step inside
the doorway of Chase's penthouse suite.  It's actually the second time I've
said that to him, although the first time I remember there being more
conviction behind the words.  It would be easier if he wasn't so gorgeous.  And
I wasn't so angry.

The first time had been in the elevator on the ride up.  It was
right after I wondered how crazy I was to be alone with this handsome stranger
who had essentially just won me in a poker game, and right before two young
guys got on and acted like they were in the presence of greatness.  What the
fuck was that all about, anyway?  They knew his name and even asked him to sign
the back of a receipt they had on them.  Said they were big fans.  Of what,
exactly?

Chase's hotel room is bigger than my apartment back home, and
clearly the decorating budget greatly eclipsed the $500 that my roommate and I
had scraped together. 

The room Harry and I were staying in had a bed and a desk that
were fighting for space next to a small window.  This room doesn't even have a
bed or a desk.  Those items must be in one of the other rooms which branch off
from here.  The only things in this room are couches, carpets and paintings
which face a big flat screen television on one wall and curtains lining the
edge of another.

Chase is tapping on a touchscreen pad on an end table, and
suddenly the curtains begin to pull themselves back to reveal a breathtaking
view.

"Wow," I breathe.  I can't help but be impressed with
the sight and take a few steps toward it.  The windows are floor to ceiling and
we're looking out over the brightly lit Las Vegas strip.  The MGM Grand and
Monte Carlo hotels are closest, but I can also see the sprawling City Center
down below.

"I never get tired of seeing this."

I jump at the sound of his voice which is close enough to my ear
that I can feel the hotness of his breath as he stands behind me.  He's closer
than he should be.  Closer than he needs to be.  I'm surprised that I don't
have an overwhelming urge to step away.  I should.  Harrison and I haven't even
been split for half an hour. 

Truth is, things haven't been working for a while.  This trip
was against my better judgment, but he argued that it would be good for us to
get away.  That it would bring us closer together.  It was obviously just an
excuse for him to go and feed his addiction.  Things had been headed in this
direction for a while.  I don't even remember the last time he and I had sex. 
Even longer since we've made love.

"Would you like a drink..." he hangs the sentence in
midair, as if waiting for me to fill something in. 

I turn to look at him, his blue eyes probing into me immediately
as he waits.  I suddenly feel my cheeks redden as I realize what he's waiting
for.

"Lila," I finally say.  Shit.  I haven't even told
this guy my name.  Where is my head tonight?

"Beautiful," he smiles.  His teeth are straight and
white, a traditional Colgate smile.  Is there nothing about this guy that isn't
perfect?  Blond, blue eyed, perfect teeth, apparently rich and possibly
famous.  What the hell was he thinking trying to buy me in a card game?  Or win
me. 

Is there a difference?

"Uh, I'm not sure if that's a good idea.  I was just
thinking maybe I should go."  I wasn't thinking anything of the sort, but
that's what I should be thinking.  He's still closer than he needs to be. 
Close enough that I can feel the heat from his body caress mine.

He raises an eyebrow.  "Where?"

Is it that obvious that I have nowhere to go? 

"You're from out of town, right?"  He shrugs as I
nod.  "Tourists are obvious sometimes.  But I assume you've been staying
with... your boyfriend, right?"

I nod again.  He has a casual arrogance, like he knows
everything already.  Problem is, he's dead on so far.  He seems to know a lot
more about me than I know about him.  Although now that I've been staring at
his face it is starting to seem vaguely familiar.  Certainly not Hollywood A
list familiar, but I've seen him somewhere.

"You aren't going to go back to him, are you?  After all,
he did gamble you away in a poker game."

"I recall you being part of that wager," I snap back. 
I'm not defending Harrison, but I feel sensitive about it.  Embarrassed,
really.  I take a step back, putting some distance between us.  I decide to
push my anger back at him.  "Do you often make bets to win girls?"

Chase purses his lips as his eyes flit across the newly created
gap between our bodies.  "I make a living taking advantage of situations
where I know I have an edge.  To do that you have to know the value of things,
and only take risks with something you can afford, or are willing to lose -
generally with the knowledge that what you have to gain is far greater than
what you've put at risk. 

"Your boyfriend had lost more money than he could afford. 
And then he risked something that he shouldn't have been willing to lose to
simply get back what he shouldn't have lost in the first place.  I was in no
such position.  I could afford to lose the money, and my potential reward was
far greater."

His blue eyes are burning into me.  "I'm not your
reward."

Chase shakes his head.  "That's not what I mean.  The bet
was more a test of the man than anything.  Like I said, I could tell he was in
over his head and I had no wish to take further advantage of the situation. 
The game, those stakes... I play at that level occasionally for fun, not to
fleece the tourists."

"So what was your potential reward that you were willing to
risk all that money for, then?"

Chase shrugged.  "Another gamble."  He takes a step
forward, closing the gap between us again.  "I understand that money was a
lot to you and your boyfriend, but it wasn't a lot to me.  So I took a chance
with it.  I gambled that, although you might think I was a jerk for trying to
win you, you might still end up willing to spend some time with me if I did. 
That seemed worth the price to me.  But to answer your earlier question, no.  I
don't make it a habit to bet on girls during poker games.  This was the only
time."

Chase seems like the kind of man who is used to winning, getting
what he wants, but the only reason I'm here is because I had looked around for
the easiest and quickest way to hurt Harrison, and leaving with his opponent
seemed like the best option. 

Actually fucking him had never been a consideration.  Not that
being with a man I'd just met is entirely foreign to me, it just hadn't been
part of my thought process at the time.  But the way he's looking at me now...
his mouth only inches away, so close that I can feel the hotness of his breath
with each word...  I know my eyes are focusing on his lips as he speaks and I'm
thinking more about how they taste than the words they're forming.

"You were the most gorgeous thing in that room."  His
voice is lower now, but he's close enough that every word is clear.  "Can
you blame me for wanting to hang out with you, get to know you?  But I want to
be clear, I had no expectations of you coming up here, or anything else.  I'm a
gambler, and I took a chance that my read on your boyfriend was right.  He
didn't value you, and I thought you should see that.  Part of that gamble was
that maybe you'd spend some time with me as well, sure.  But you don't have
to.  You're free to go." 

My back is to the window as he shifts forward just enough that
our bodies touch, so lightly that it would be almost imperceptible if it wasn't
the only thing I'm focusing on at the moment.  Chase is so much the opposite of
Harrison.

"If I stay, I'm not sleeping with you," I repeat
again, like it's a personal mantra.  This time the words are quiet, almost as
if I'm not sure I want him to hear them, and even I can hear the lack of
conviction behind them.

"Who said anything about sleep?" I watch his lips move
one last time to form that sentence before they come forward. 

Desire.  That's what his lips taste like.  Delicious desire.