Ace in the Hole Read online

  Chapter 3

  “How could you have done it dad? How!” Rachel returned to the living room after preparing her things. Most were still packed so it didn’t take her long.

  She faced Simon and a shiver ran up his spine. Rachel’s face had a look of betrayal and shock that should never have been there.

  Above all, Simon hated that he had disappointed his daughter. She now knew that he was a weak man. A terrible man. And she was going to pay for it. It wasn’t right but there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening. Not unless he sacrificed his own body to torture and brokenness. Perhaps even his life. There was one thing Simon couldn’t face. He could bear the pain, he was sure, but he couldn’t imagine leaving Rachel alone in the world. He should have been a better father.

  “Please Rachel!” Simon stood, reaching out and clutching his daughter’s hand. “Let’s go away from here. We can get away now. We can escape before he comes back, that monster! We can hide and soon it will all be over.”

  Rachel closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. “We can’t dad. We can’t do that. I gave my word. And we would be caught and then what? Would he torture or kill us both? He would hunt us down… or they would… whoever you owe money to. They aren’t going to let the debt just settle. I don’t want to live my life like that, always on the run, always watching my back, always in fear.”

  “I’m sorry Rachel,” Simon hung his head. “I never should have let this happen.”

  “Why did you?” There was anger in Rachel’s voice, well justified.

  “I didn’t think it would ever happen like this. I always had a hunch… I was meant to win. One more spot and I would have had all that money paid back and some to spare. Some to buy a new house for you and a car and get you on your feet. We could finally have had the life you deserved.”

  Rachel sighed. Her face took on a stony look. “What’s wrong with this house dad? I’ve always wanted to come back here! But you’ve never made that possible for me! You sent me away to boarding school when I didn’t want to go. I wanted to go to college and live here but you insisted that I didn’t…”

  A shudder of grief, still raw and fresh after ten years, ripped through Simon’s body. His heart was breaking. “I just couldn’t Rachel. I’ve wanted to move out of this house ever since… your mother died. I just can’t bear to think of her here, to relive all the memories and see her in every room and know that she’s never coming back.”

  Rachel’s face softened and her green eyes shone with unshed tears. “Dad… she’s always going to be wherever you go. You can’t undo the fact that she’s never going to come back. You can’t erase the memories. I think that all this… this debt and this gambling… everything… was because you were trying to escape something that you could never run from.”

  “I don’t know Rachel.” Simon hung his head. He knew he had disappointed his daughter. His sweet, beautiful, intelligent daughter who looked so like her mother that there were moments he could hardly bear to look at her. She had given up herself for him. She was going to go with that man, Tony DiAntonio’s nephew, a man who was surely a monster just like his uncle.

  What had he said his name was? Andre. He’d gone by the name ‘Ace’ but his name was Andre. He had told Simon that much at least, as though an introduction was warranted before the man broke his legs. Now this Andre DiAntonio was going to harm his daughter. Simon could see how the man wanted his Rachel. That man lusted after her and he was going to have her. All because Simon couldn’t control himself. He couldn’t control the memories, the habits, the grief, the sorrow, the endless, ceaseless trying to escape.

  Rachel was right. Simon could no longer pretend that he was running away. He had been running for years and now his daughter was going to pay for his inability to face the truth. His wife was gone forever and now, through his own actions, Simon was going to lose his daughter. She would always be here, even after the monster was done with her, but she would never forgive her father for what he had done to her.

  Chapter 4

  Andre DiAntonio couldn’t quite believe he had just traded a three hundred thousand dollar debt for two weeks with Rachel McMaster. It seemed like a tremendous amount to pay for a very short time but something told Andre that it would be worth it. She was headstrong yet vulnerable, a ripple of innocence caged in armor.

  Simon McMaster’s debt had been owed to Andre’s uncle, Tony. However, the real owner of the debt was Andre himself. Andre was a successful businessman and his uncle regularly borrowed money from him. Andre preferred not to think about where it went. Most times it was returned with substantial interest, which appealed to Andre.

  Such a large debt had never been owed to one person before and Andre thought he would collect on it himself. Andre knew it wasn’t right but then again neither was borrowing vast sums of shady money and not paying it back. He hadn’t actually been planning on breaking anything that wouldn’t heal quickly. Maybe a few fingers or toes. Enough to scare Simon into giving Andre the deed to his house, maybe his car and whatever assets he owned. Andre was willing to take a loss because what else could he do? He wasn’t about to maim a man for life, however much he wanted to when he thought about the money down the drain.

  Rachel had been a bonus that Andre hadn’t banked on. A mysterious, alluring, beautiful bonus. She was a small woman, thin but with curves in all the right places. She had a body that promised hours of pleasure. If only she were awakened to it.

  Andre could tell by the way Rachel had looked at him, fearful and unsure, that she had never had a man before. Or if she had he clearly hadn’t shown her what true pleasure could be. Just the thought of it turned Andre’s blood into a boiling mass. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so out of control.

  It had been Rachel’s eyes, those huge green emeralds sparkling in her little pixie like face. Her features were delicate and perfect, her face heart shaped with delicate cheekbones and a sweetly curving nose. Her lips were lush and red and made for kissing. Andre’s hands ached to touch Rachel’s long, silky blond hair. He wanted to bury his hands in the masses of gold, to see if it were truly as soft as it looked.

  Andre had barely been able to focus on the contract he was writing up. Simon McMaster would never know it was he who held the debt and therefore it was his to cancel, not his uncle’s. He worded the contact in such a way that neither the daughter nor the father would ever know the true owner of the debt.

  The drive back to the McMaster house was agony. All Andre could think about was Rachel. He couldn’t wait to get her back to his house, to earn her trust, to teach her about true passion. His body was a mess, his nerves on edge.

  By the time Andre returned to the house he was hard as a rock. He shifted his jeans uncomfortably, rearranging himself. As he pulled open the front door he wondered what Rachel’s body would feel like under his hands. What would she look like naked, the bloom of pleasure rich on her creamy skin. He wanted to hear her scream his name, wanted to smell the scent of her desire. Desire for him.

  Andre was so frustrated he almost groaned. His actions came out harsh and jerky. He heated to admit how perilously thin his control was. Rachel looked on in fear as he slammed the contract down on the shoddily constructed kitchen table. Andre could only hope it wouldn’t take her long to sign it.

  Chapter 5

  Would the drive ever end? Rachel was sitting in the passenger side of the man’s truck. Andre. That was his name. She had read it on the contract. Andre DiAntonio. The truck was nice. All black on the outside and inside. The windows were all tinted, the inside seats were soft, black leather.

  Out of the corner of her eye Rachel watched Andre. She had signed the contract and followed him out to his truck. He had swung her heavy duffel bag into the box like it weighed nothing at all. Rachel hadn’t said goodbye to her father. There was really nothing to say. They had never been a touchy family. Or at least not since her mother died. It was almost like Rachel couldn’t remember what her father w
as like before that.

  “Are you comfortable?” Andre asked, voice stiff.

  As compared to what? “Sure,” Rachel finally answered when she found her voice. Her insides were a swirling mass of nerves and fear. She wasn’t quite sure what she was walking into but her dad had a signed, executed contract saying that she wouldn’t be harmed. She knew that wouldn’t do much good if she were to end up dead but somehow she doubted Andre would do that to her.

  He had at first appeared threatening, when Rachel walked into the house and found Andre yelling at her father. After he reappeared with the contract, Andre seemed different. More agitated, less angry, less intimidating. Rachel no longer feared his size and strength. It was the unknown she was afraid of. Of all the things he could and might demand that she do. She was afraid of him as she was generally uncomfortable around most men.

  “It’s not much longer,” Andre mumbled and Rachel took that to mean his house was close.

  “Okay.” She continued to stare at the passing traffic. It all seemed so normal. Like they were just a normal couple riding in a truck, she going to the house of her lover for a short stay. Except that this wasn’t like any normal situation she’d ever heard of. And Andre most certainly was not her lover. Yet. That thought sent tendrils of panic and something else-something illicit and exciting, racing through Rachel. She squirmed on the seat and Andre glanced at her, expression unreadable.

  Rachel stayed still after that. She didn’t want Andre to look at her. There was something feral in his eyes. He wanted her; she knew that much and she feared it. She didn’t want to see the hunger on his face. She didn’t want to face the fact that she was now his for two weeks.

  The houses lining either side of the street gradually became larger and larger until Rachel’s eyes widened. Andre lived in a rich neighborhood. He pulled up in front of a huge white house. It was stuccoed, at least two levels with a walk out that faced an artificial lake in the back. The yard stretched endlessly to the back and front. The driveway was curved round so that it faced two sides of the street and came right up to the four car garage. There were white columns at the entrance and two ornamental lions were placed on either side of the stairway.

  Wow. Rachel had wondered how on earth a man like Andre could possibly afford to pay back her father’s debt but now she felt that she had misjudged him. He wasn’t the goon that she thought. Or maybe he was but he was a rich goon.

  Andre pulled into the garage and got out of the truck. Rachel eventually found her door handle and got out as well. She watched as Andre shouldered her massive duffel out of the box of the truck and carried it as though it were light as air.

  The garage was neatly ordered. There were no other vehicles in that bay but Rachel figured if she were to look into the others there would be cars there. She imagined Andre didn’t have a four car garage just for show.

  “This way into the house,” Andre said sharply, indicating the door with a nod of his head in the direction.

  Rachel hesitated before following him. He unlocked the door with a press of a button and pushed it open. Rachel walked in, finding herself in a small entrance. Just beyond that was a massive kitchen. She had never seen so many cupboards. They were an antique ivory with a massive granite island in the middle. Copper pots hang from a pot rack over the island. She wondered where the fridge was but then realized it must be built so the front of it looked like the cabinets. There was a massive stainless stove with red dials, a wine cooler and a dishwasher. The kitchen floor was marble. Rachel didn’t see a table anywhere and she could only assume there would be a formal dining room. Somehow it didn’t seem like the house of a man like Andre.

  He set her duffel bag down with a thump. “Come. I’ll show you around.”

  Rachel nodded timidly. She followed Andre through the house. The rest of it was as magnificent as the kitchen. The house alternated between marble flooring and hardwood. Rich rugs decorated the floors in the living room, dining room and bedrooms. The artwork on the walls hung in gilded gold frames. They looked to be real oils, not prints. Rachel was impressed. It seemed like the house of an eighty year old man. Not Andre’s style at all. She felt foolish for trying to peg a style on him. She didn’t even know him and her first impression hadn’t been a good one.

  The house had six bedrooms and three bathrooms, a kitchen, a dining room, a living room and a basement that also had a family room. There was a huge pool in the backyard. “Do you live by yourself here?” Rachel asked.

  Andre actually smiled. “It seems like a lot of house for one person?”

  “Yes. I think so.”

  Andre just shrugged. Rachel waited. She waited for him to tell her what he wanted her to do. She half expected him to order her to take off her clothes the minute they walk in the door so he could defile her but he hadn’t done or said anything to lead her to believe that was his intent.

  They did a full tour of the house and ended up back in the kitchen. Andre looked at Rachel and cocked an eyebrow.

  “It’s almost dinnertime,” Andre finally said. “I’m starving. Do you cook?”

  “Not really,” Rachel admitted.

  “What kind of a woman doesn’t know how to cook?”

  “One who spent her entire life in a dorm of sorts,” Rachel said wryly. She could tell Andre wasn’t trying to offend her, rather his statement was said with mirth.

  “Well then. I suppose you’ll have to learn and fast. I want a decent dinner cooked within the hour.”

  Andre started to walk away and Rachel’s mouth fell open. “You’re serious? I just said I don’t know the first thing about cooking.”

  “Figure it out. Use your phone or something. I’m sure the internet can help you. Or turn on the TV.” Andre pointed at a huge screen mounted in the corner of the kitchen. “Tune in to a cooking channel and follow along. I’m sure you’re a fast learner.”

  “What?” Rachel sputtered. Andre walked away leaving her standing in the kitchen. She shut her eyes and ground her teeth in frustration. What an arrogant asshole! It took Rachel a full five minutes to settle down. She realized that it could be much worse. Andre could have had her naked on her back by now. It was what she had expected given the way he had looked at her as she signed that contract back at her father’s house.

  Thinking of her father made Rachel angry again. She couldn’t find it in her heart to pity him at the moment. Not while she was in a strange house owned by an even stranger man. A man who was all puzzles and mystery to her. A man that owned her body, by rights of a contract, for the next two weeks.

  Shaking her head, Rachel got out her phone. She knew that the food wasn’t going to cook itself. She searched for a couple recipes before she realized she should check what was actually in the house. She stalked over the giant fridge and pulled the door open. It was strange, pulling open a cabinet and finding a refrigerator hiding back there.

  Both the fridge and freezer were well stocked and the cupboards appeared the same way. Obviously she was going to have her choice of recipes. Taking a deep breath, Rachel found the TV remote on the edge of the island. She turned it on and flicked to the cooking channel. The program was right in the middle so Rachel decided that wasn’t going to be helpful. She left it on because the noise was comforting.

  Rachel palmed her phone again and found a recipe that didn’t look too hard. Fettuccini Alfredo with grainy mustard salmon and asparagus. It sounded fancy enough that she was sure it would please and shock Andre that she had been able to whip it up but easy enough that she could do it. Rachel had spent the past four years studying nursing. She figured that if she could pass those exams and treat patients then she could handle cooking a meal.

  The directions were simple. The salmon just had to go from the freezer to the oven. The grainy mustard was in a jar in the fridge. There was Alfredo sauce in the cupboard and a package of dry pasta. Yup, it looked easy enough. The asparagus would be the hard part as Rachel had never cooked that before. However there was everything sh
e needed and it really just had to be cooked with chopped garlic and sautéed in butter.

  Rachel had the salmon in the oven and the water waiting to boil for the pasta. She was in the middle of chopping garlic when Andre walked into the kitchen. He saw her holding the giant knife in her hand, chopping garlic cloves on the granite island and his eyes widened.

  “Dear lord don’t cut that on the granite! Are you insane! That island cost more than your father’s house, I’m sure. Get a cutting board out!”

  Andre rushed over to a drawer and pulled out a large, wooden board. He slammed it down in front of Rachel. She paled and shrunk back, brandishing the knife in front of her. She was angry that Andre had left her alone after she had clearly told him she didn’t know what he was doing. What did he expect? A bloody miracle to have occurred between now and thirty minutes ago when he abandoned her in the kitchen?

  “Here… like this.” Andre grabbed the knife out of Rachel’s hand. He grabbed the garlic cloves angrily and started chopping at them like a maniac.

  Rachel stood frozen to the spot, watching him chop, one hand on the blade, the other hand guiding the cloves under the sharp edge of the blade. Andre turned to look at her and that was when the knife slipped.

  Chapter 6

  The blade of the knife bit into Andre’s finger, deep and sharp. Andre sucked in a breath and glanced at Rachel. If he hadn’t been so damn distracted by her proximity he never would have been so careless.

  Rachel sprang into action. She gently eased Andre’s hand open and pried the knife handle from his grip. She set it aside and studied the deep cut with a keen eye. Her touch almost made Andre forget about the pain and the blood that was spurting from the deep cut, running down his hand.