Page 1 of His Last Gamble

CHAPTER ONE

Charmaine Reece looked at the vision in the mirror and laughed. That wasnother! Definitely not.

And yet it was.

Large blue eyes, the exact colour of Ceylon sapphires, gazed back at her, the lashes flattered and elongated by unfamiliar mascara. Arched, delicate brows were likewise darkened and framed what others had always assured her were her most bewitching feature. Not that she’d ever believed them.

She shook her head, watching with bemused wonderment as her newly cut, water-straight hair shimmered gloriously, falling well past her shoulders. Almost silver in colour, it now had glints of old gold, courtesy of the company’s hair stylist.

A pale plum lipstick complemented the figure-hugging deep plum sarong dress she was wearing, and long, long legs tapered to trim ankles and a flattering, strappy pair of white sandals. She wore no jewellery.

She felt almost naked, uncomfortably aware that she was braless beneath the wrap-around silky material, and that she wore only the skimpiest of bikini briefs.

She felt like a fraud. A ridiculous fraud.

Taking a deep breath, she walked to the door, locking her hotel room behind her and heading for the reception area and then on out into the blazing Bahamian sunshine.

In front of her, the small hotel garden gave way to the breathtaking panorama that was Gold Rock Beach.

It hadn’t been hard to persuade Jo-Jo to come here for a photoshoot, especially with the discount the hotel had been willing to cut them when they discovered the amount of glamour and cachet that Jonniee, one of Britain’s leading fashion houses, would be bringing with them.

Not that the girls had felt particularly glamorous after the long night flight. But Charmaine, at least, was too tense to flop into bed and grapple with jetlag. Now that she was here, she was eager to check out the lair of her enemy.

But to do that, she needed to look her best. She needed to look every inch the successful model. Just in case. Even though her chances of running into Payne Lacey right away were almost zero.

Although she had no doubt that, even at this hour, the fabulous and renowned Palace Casino next door would be open, she doubted if the manager-owner himself put in a personal appearance much before midnight. If then.

Still, it never hurt to be prepared. And she had to get used to looking and dressing like a million dollars, even if, in her heart, she felt strictly bargain basement!

She was sure that, sooner or later, one of the other girls, one of the real models, was going to catch on to the fact that she was a fraud. Only Jo-Jo knew the truth. Or at least, some of it.

For Jo-Jo, her flamboyant business partner, this was all a bit of a laugh. Like everyone else in her life, he thought she needed to live a little, break out of her rut, and throw her usual innate caution to the wind and experience life to the full. So when she’d suggested doing some modelling herself on one of their fashion shoots, he’d been only to eager to encourage her.

But she knew he wouldn’t be feeling quite so relaxed if he knew why she’d really persuaded him to come here. Why she really wanted to be at Gold Rock Beach, right next to the famous ‘Palace’, and dressed like this.

And, with a bit of luck, he would never need to know. She’d have brought Payne Lacey to his knees, broken his heart, and be back on her way home to England before the photos had even had a chance to be developed.

She walked onto the pavement, sternly ignoring the siren call of the white sandy beach and the bright azure of the Caribbean Sea and turned instead to walk the short distance to the entrance of the Palace.

And, reputedly, that’s exactly what it looked like on the inside. She bit her lip, then remembered her perfectly applied lipstick just in time. She wasn’t used to wearing make-up. Nor a thousand pounds’ worth of designer couture either, if it came to it. Even if shehaddesigned it herself.

As she walked through the intricately wrought-iron gates into the lush, tropical paradise that was the casino’s grounds, she felt suddenly cold. In spite of the bird song, the primordial sound of the sea and the scent of exotic blooms, she shivered. Somewhere, close by, he was here.

Skirting the lush roses, bird-of-paradise flowers, oleander and hibiscus bushes, she stared grimly at the edifice in front of her.

Here people came from all over the globe to answer the lure of the blackjack table, to sing the song of the roulette wheel, and revel in the excitement of the cards.

The Palace was built like something from Versailles, its shimmering stone imported, she supposed, from some far-off place. Grey-slated turrets and sloping roofs gave way to wide windows, graced with wrought-iron balconies. Bougainvillaea climbed the white-painted walls, almost hurting the eyes with the brilliance of their colour. Inside, she knew, would be marble, gold plate, silver, chandeliers, plush carpeting, all creating an illusion of grandeur to make the pulse race.

And all as fake and as worthless as the man who owned it.

Didn’t those millionaires who came here to lose their money so carelessly realise that they were just lining the pockets of a charlatan? A man with a till where his heart should be, and a money-making machine in place of a human brain?

And what of those normal, everyday people, hard-working tourists out for a little taste of the high life. Just a little taste. Surely no harm in that? Lose a few chips here, drop some foreign-looking coins in a slot machine there. Didn’t they realise that they were just throwing their hard-earned money away on a man who’d already gambled and won millions?

Charmaine realised her hands were clenched into hard fists, her knuckles white with tell-tale fury, and forced herself to take deep breaths. She must be calm.

She was so close now. All the hard work and planning had been done. She’d positioned herself, in an advantageous light, to within a hair’s breadth of the enemy. Everything was set and ready.

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