About ALL IN
World-class statistician
and poker prodigy Daisy Drake has two rules: never risk anything you can’t
afford to lose, and never, ever, trust a gambler. Which is why she gave up the
game and moved to Los Angeles, where she became a tenured professor. But when
an old acquaintance calls needing Daisy’s...expertise...to help catch a
cheater, she heads back to Las Vegas and the poker tables.
FBI Agent Ryan DiNatto’s been a gambler since he was four, and a hustler since he hit puberty. Coming off an undercover mission that ended with him shot and his partner in a wheelchair, Ryan’s out for blood. With a mob accountant and a hit man on the loose, the stakes have never been higher, and this time, he’s determined to make things right—even if it means beating spunky, sexy, Daisy Adams at her own game
FBI Agent Ryan DiNatto’s been a gambler since he was four, and a hustler since he hit puberty. Coming off an undercover mission that ended with him shot and his partner in a wheelchair, Ryan’s out for blood. With a mob accountant and a hit man on the loose, the stakes have never been higher, and this time, he’s determined to make things right—even if it means beating spunky, sexy, Daisy Adams at her own game
EXCERPT
In
the two weeks he’d prepped to go undercover as a tournament poker player at the
Hendrix, Ryan had studied the case file more thoroughly than he’d ever studied
anything in college. This was his chance to prove he was really back. That he
wasn’t just the screw-up who’d gotten Jack shot.
More
importantly, it was his chance to take another crack at Vic Morelli. There’d
been enough stolen property in the warehouse to send Vic upriver for five to
thirty—depending on the judge—but the Feds were still working to build
racketeering and corruption charges. Ryan wasn’t about to let that stand. He
wanted the mobster in jail for life or—better—parked on death row for
conspiracy to commit murder.
Forget
the drug dens in Manhattan or the warehouse in the Bronx; he was going to hit
the man where it hurt.
His
wallet.
Edgar
Blethins was Vic’s best friend and personal accountant. The FBI had frozen all
of the accounts he managed, but there was still a chunk of money unaccounted
for.
Ten
million, seven hundred and twenty-six thousand dollars to be exact.
Almost
eleven million dollars hadn’t just gotten up and walked away. So when Blethins
signed up for the Hendrix’s inaugural poker tournament in Las Vegas, it only
made sense to send an agent in undercover to keep an eye out for him.
Ryan
had demanded to be put on the case. He’d fucking begged, and when he’d finally
gotten the go-ahead for the assignment? He’d started doing his homework.
He
knew every employee, every longtime guest, and every big winner currently
checked into the hotel. He for damn sure knew every player registered to play
in the tournament, but he didn’t know “Adams, Daisy Adams” from Eve.
The
woman had to be a last minute entry.
But
how? And why?
In
the world of professional gambling, the women who played were tough,
domineering, and sexy as hell. Men wore TT-shirts, shorts, and lucky charms,
anything to stay comfortable. Women wore low-cut shirts and too much makeup,
working their own special charm to gain the slightest advantage.
Daisy
Adams wasn’t sexy. She was cute.
Wearing
a pair of cotton-candy pajamas with fluffy white sheep embroidered on them, she
was adorable. The pajamas were a size too big, hanging loose on her already
petite frame, but they didn’t completely hide her curved hips and firm, high
breasts. Her hair was inky black, loose waves flowing around her heart-shaped
face like a dark and twisted halo. Her features were delicate, like the rest of
her. Her eyes were royal blue, so deep they were almost purple.
“Is
there any other reason I’d be in Las Vegas?” she snapped, answering his earlier
question. Her tone was harsh, coming from soft pink lips that curved generously
on top and were full on the bottom. At five in the morning, she probably wasn’t
wearing any makeup, so the apple red color of her cheeks had to be all natural.
Fresh from bed, she smelled like the orange trees his grandparents kept in
their dining room in Coney Island in winter, then dragged outside for the
summer months.
Fresh
faced and innocent, what the hell was she doing in the casino?
“You
play poker?” Ryan asked, just in case he was missing something.
“Sure,
want some pointers?”
Cute
wasn’t his type. He liked leggy law-enforcement professionals who knew the
score—he’d been engaged to three of them—but Daisy had spunk.
Ryan
liked spunk.
It
kept things interesting.
He
wondered if the blush that was coloring her skin went all the way down,
underneath those absurd pajamas. The way she was glaring at him, she’d probably
cut his throat if he tried to find out, but it might be worth it. His gaze
moved back to those warm, full, lips. It would definitely be worth it.
“I’m
always up for improving my technique.” He ran his fingers through his hair,
wishing he’d had time to brush it before he opened the door. “Give me a second
to throw on a shirt, and I’ll take you out to breakfast.”
“What?”
Daisy’s hands went to her hips—all spunky and defiant—and those threadbare
pajamas pulled tight against her petite curves.
Ryan
lost the ability to think.
Damn.
Daisy might be small, but she was very well proportioned, with luscious breasts
and full hips. What was she wearing under those things anyway? A gentleman
would step back and close the door, but—fuck it—he definitely wasn’t a
gentleman.
He
moved closer for a better view.
On Sale in Digital: January 4, 2016
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About LEAVING LAS VEGAS
When West Virginia wild
child, Glory Allen enters a private poker game with her town's dreams at stake
she loses it all. To make matters worse, she's trapped in a car with the sexy
but infuriating man who won—and accused her
of cheating. Now because of him,
she's on the run from the mafia who put out a hit on the stuck-up casino
magnate with the toe-curling good looks—and he isn't even her type. So why
can't she cool the explosive chemistry between them?
She's out of control…and
she's enough to drive Luke Tanner crazy. Yet she's the only one willing to put
her neck on the line…for him—a
complete stranger she professes to hate. Now he's in debt…to her. And it's a debt he's willing to
work off any way she wants…on the hood of his sports car, in a
waterfall—wherever she'll have him, he's willing to pay the price.
But the stakes are raised
when they return to West Virginia—helping Luke escape has put Glory and her
hometown in the sites of someone who wants him dead. This time Glory decides
she's not going to end up empty-handed—it's time for the winner to take all and
she won't stop 'til she wins his heart.
Author Bio: Aleah Barley is a
writer of explosive romance for everyone. She lives and writes in Detroit,
Michigan, with a cat who's recently learned how to levitate, an over
enthusiastic Labrador, and the cutest guy in the world. She will do anything
for a hot cup of coffee or a wild romance--and, she can spell onomatopoeia without using spell check.
You can also visit her online at the
following places:
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