SUBMISSION TO THE MASTER

Chapter 1 Jacqueline

Jacqueline adjusted the straps on her snug black dress, ensuring they hiked up her ample bosom, then stared at herself critically in the large mirror in the ladies' room off the posh hotel lobby.

She was here on a mission and she'd pulled out all the stops. Low cut black dress that hugged every curve of her body. Shockingly high stilettos that made her legs look even longer than they were, and accentuated her rounded butt. She turned in the mirror and glanced at her backside. Her cheeks flushed at the sight of herself in the short, tight black dress, all her assets blatantly on display, but it was important she succeed and she needed to use everything she had going for her. She had even pulled her long, chestnut hair up and clipped it neatly behind her head to stop it from obscuring her cleavage.

She turned back to face the mirror, her gaze dropping to the glittery star pendant grazing the tops of her pushed-up-thrust-forward breasts. Her sister, Ella, had given it to her and it was a constant reminder of how Ella had always taken care of her, and believed in her. Elle had told her she'd be a star in whatever she did.

Three women entered the washroom, chatting. Jacqueline reapplied her deep red lipstick, then dropped the tube in her evening bag and walked back into the lobby.

The hotel was lavishly elegant. Crystal chandeliers glittered from the ceiling as she walked along the marble floor, her heels clacking on the surface. She walked to the concierge desk and opened her small, sequined bag and pulled out a black and red poker chip with the Danner insignia on it.

He glanced at it and nodded.

"Go to room 2403."

She smiled as she turned and walked to the elevator. Room 2403 was where she would find Mr. Danner. Billionaire owner of Danner Industries. She had to see him and convince him to drop the charges against Ella's husband. Ella was six months pregnant, and with two young children already-Jacqueline couldn't stand the thought of Ella having to contend with taking care of them alone while her careless husband rotted in jail.

She'd tried calling Danner's secretary to arrange to see him in his office so she could plead her case, but he was harder to get an appointment with than the President. She was desperate to help Ella, though, so she'd talked to a friend of hers who knew that Danner ran a high-stakes poker game two or three times a month. No one knew where it was until the day, and it was extremely exclusive. Danner didn't worry about the details of deciding who could play. He had staff to check out potentials, but Jacqueline's friend had an in and had obtained one of the poker chips that would allow her in the door.

Every player had to commit at least two hundred fifty thousand dollars they were prepared to lose, which she didn't have. She steeled herself as she walked onto the elevator and pushed the button.

But she didn't intend to lose.

* * *

Race Danner stared out the window of the luxury hotel room over the lights of the city reflected in the lake below as he poured himself a drink. The other players were continuing the game behind him, but he'd stopped to take a break. He sipped the seventy-five year old scotch and sighed.

Even these poker games, that he'd arranged to break up the boredom he'd been suffering from over the past year, had stopped giving him the excitement he was seeking.

Travel, women, extreme sports. None of it gave him exactly what he was looking for.

He turned back to the game, watching the intensity in the eyes of the card players at the table.

The problem was, he didn't know exactly what he was looking for.

But he had a feeling he'd know when he saw it.

A knock sounded at the door and Renaldo, one of the hotel serving staff overseeing the game, answered it. Race heard a young woman's voice, then Renaldo opened the door and she walked inside.

His breath held as he stared at her.

The little black dress-and he did mean little-and the fuck-me shoes she wore showcased her stunning body, but he could tell she wasn't used to wearing such a revealing outfit. She carried herself with confidence, but he could read people and could sense a hesitation in her. She glanced around, as if wondering if anyone was gazing at her, but not in a look-at-me way.

Her hair was swept up and held in place by a glittery butterfly clip, which meant it was long. He liked long hair. He smiled to himself, deciding that before the night was over, he'd see her hair hanging loose and free. And he'd ensure he soon got the chance to coil her tresses around his hand and hold tight.

Renaldo was talking to her, and Race knew the man would hustle her out, since she was not one of the people on the invitation list for tonight.

Race would not let her slip through his fingers, however. He walked toward them and she glanced at him as he approached.

"Problem, Renaldo?" Race asked.

* * *

Jacqueline had watched the tuxedoed man approach while trying to convince the gatekeeper that she was allowed in. Wow, the new man was beyond gorgeous. And with an air of elegance that took her breath away.

He filled out the tux with broad shoulders and a slim waist that made her wonder what he looked like without it. Thoughts of a muscular, naked body filled her mind, no matter how much she tried to push them away. He brushed back his wavy, dark brown hair, and his deep blue eyes turned to her. She almost sucked in a breath as their gazes met, and his full, sexy mouth turned up in a smile.

"No, Mr. Danner. I was just explaining to the young woman that this game is by invitation only."

So this was Mr. Danner. Butterflies fluttered through her stomach. He was the man she'd come to see.

"And I was explaining to him," she said in a respectful but insistent tone, "that I was invited." She held up the poker chip with the Danner logo.

"It's alright, Renaldo. I'll handle this."

The man named Renaldo hesitated, but then said, "Of course, Mr. Danner."

"You're here for the game?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I'm afraid, Miss..." He gazed at her expectantly.

"Jacqueline Bell. But you can call me Jacquie."

He nodded. "Miss Bell, I'm afraid the game is full this evening."

Her eyes widened a little and she glanced at the table. "But I really wanted to join." She held up the chip again for him to see. "Does me having this change anything?"

He took it from her, his fingers brushing hers, sending electricity shimmering up her arm, and examined the black and red chip.

He laughed. "Only that I'll have to see about firing Raymond."

Her gut clenched. Raymond was the one who'd helped her.

"Why?"

"Miss Bell, although I leave it to my assistant to make up the list of whom to invite, and to make the arrangements through Raymond, I ensure I know exactly who is invited." His midnight blue gaze locked on her, sending a shiver through her. "And you were not."

God, she'd been found out. Now she'd lost Raymond his job and she was about to be thrown out on her butt.

"Please, Mr. Danner. Don't fire Raymond. He was just doing me a favor and I badgered him into it."

Danner's eyebrow arched. "Raymond is your boyfriend?"

"No, he's a good friend of my brother-in-law's. Please, I just wanted to meet you."

His gaze turned to one of curiosity. "And why is that?"

"I... have something I want to talk to you about. Do you think you could give me a moment now?" She knew she was being wildly bold, but if she was about to be tossed out, she really had nothing to lose.

"I'm sorry. This is my poker time."

"But I won't take long."

"No, but I would be willing to play with you."

Heat wafted through her and her cheeks flushed. "Play with me?"

He smiled, as if reading her dirty little thoughts. "Poker."

She glanced back at the table with tuxedoed men and for the first time realized she was the only woman here.

"I thought you said the game was full."

"It is. What I'm proposing is a private game. Just you and me."

She hesitated. Private game? The very thought of it sent images of him shedding his clothes and her climbing atop his perfect body and riding him to heaven.

But that's not what this was about and... surely that's not what he actually had in mind. The man could have any woman he wanted. Did he really want her?

And if he did, would she actually give herself to him?

Excitement quivered through her at the thought of having an illicit one night stand with this billionaire playboy-and it could only help her convince him to drop the charges against Ella's husband-but she didn't know if she could. The man was a total stranger.

While she'd hesitated, he'd pulled out his cell phone and tapped away at it. Now he dropped it back in his pocket.

He offered his arm. "Come with me."

She glanced at him, then his arm, and reluctantly placed her hand on the fine wool. Her plan had always been to bluff her way into the game, then see if she could charm Mr. Danner away from the table long enough to talk. That part had worked perfectly, but now he expected a one-on-one game with her. How could she bluff her way out of that?

He guided her to the door. The man named Renaldo opened it for them, then Mr. Danner escorted her down the hallway. A staff member stood at the elevator, holding the door open for them. Had Danner arranged that? They stepped inside and Mr. Danner swiped a key card in a special slot on the elevator. It started to move.

When the doors opened, they stepped right into a lavish suite. There were two leather couches and a couple of matching chairs, a large dining table that would seat at least twelve, and a bar. Plants, floral arrangements, and bright colored art gave the room a real flare.

He guided her toward the dining table. He pulled out a chair for her and she sat down.

"Should I assume you don't have the two fifty?" he asked.

She frowned. Damn, he'd probably throw her out now. But she didn't have it, so she shook her head.

"How did you intend to play?" he asked.

"To tell the truth, I was hoping I could convince you to talk without me actually playing poker."

"Using your obvious charms, no doubt. Well done." He raised an eyebrow. "And if that hadn't worked?"

"Well, I have some money. And I'm very lucky."

He smiled. "Really? Well, we'll see how far your luck goes. And if it runs out, we can certainly play for different stakes."

The elevator dinged and a bellman delivered a bottle of champagne in a silver ice bucket and set it on a stand by the table. He uncorked the bottle with a pop, then poured it into two glasses.

"Thank you," Mr. Danner said to the man, who promptly left. He handed her a glass.

She took a sip and the bubbles tickled her nose. She wasn't used to champagne.

Here he was plying her with champagne in his private penthouse. She had to ensure he didn't get the wrong idea.

"I hope you don't think that I'm going to have sex with you, Mr. Danner. Because I'm not."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes glittering with amusement.

"Yes. Of course,

I'm sure. I'm here for poker."

"Okay, sex is off the table," he said.

At his words, thoughts of him bending her over the table and his big body moving close sent her senses reeling. She could just imagine his hard cock pressing into her opening.

Oh, God, she'd gone too long without getting laid. This man was good-looking beyond belief, but she wasn't going to throw herself at him.

"Good," she said, but she didn't sound as definite as she'd like.

He sat down across from her and opened a small metal case about the size of a lunch box sitting on the table. Inside were poker chips and two decks of cards.

"How much money do you have?"

"Um... two hundred."

He raised an eyebrow. "Thousand?"

She shook her head. "Just two hundred."

He chuckled, but gave her a stack of chips. She took the money from her purse and handed it to him and he tossed it into the case and closed it.

She knew in the game downstairs that they never asked for the money up front. That's why she knew she could get away with it.

"I really would like a chance to talk to you. Could we arrange a time to do that?" she asked.

"How about if you win, then we'll talk tonight?"

She glanced at her small pile of chips, and his much bigger one and frowned.

"And how do I win."

He chuckled again. "I'll let you know."

Her stomach clenched, but this was the only chance she had.

He shuffled the cards, then dealt them out. She glanced at her hand. Two queens. She tried to avoid smiling, but her lips quirked. She glanced at him, but he hadn't seemed to notice. He gazed at his cards, then placed them on the table face down.

She asked for three cards and got another queen. He stayed.

She pushed a couple of chips into the center.

He matched her stack then, to her dismay, pushed in a much bigger stack.

"You'll have to go all in," he pointed out.

She eyed him. Was he just trying to intimidate her? Push in a huge amount of chips so she'd fold?

She glanced at her cards again. She was feeling pretty confident.

"Okay." She pushed the rest of her chips into the center.

Silently, he turned over his hand.

Three aces.

Oh, God, she was out. In just one hand, she'd lost all her money, and her chance to help Ella.

He swept the chips to his side of the table. "I guess it's time for the other stakes I told you about."

"And what would that be?" she asked cautiously.

His gaze locked on her and glided down to her low cut neckline.

"I like your dress."

She flushed, heat spreading through her at his appreciative gaze.

"Thank you."

"I'm suggesting you can wager the dress."

Her gaze shot to his. "I thought sex was off the table."

"It is." He smiled. "It's the dress I suggest go on the table."

She shook her head. "This isn't why I came here." She wasn't about to be his Friday night fling.

"You came here because you want a chance to talk to me. Then you lost all your money. I'm just giving you another chance."

She knew it was about control. He wanted to manipulate her. To see how far he could get her to go.

It irked her, but he had something she wanted, and as long as that was true, he called the shots. Mr. Danner smiled. "And it's not like I haven't seen what you've got on under there on any public beach."

She frowned, but then finally nodded. She reached behind her back, feeling for the zipper tab.

He smiled. "Want some help?"

"No," she said stonily. "I can manage."

She dragged the zipper down, feeling the cool air brush her back as the fabric parted. As she pulled the dress off her shoulders, she couldn't believe she was doing this.

She avoided looking at him as she slowly lowered the garment, pushing it over her hips and down her legs. Then she stepped out of it and held it out to him.

The moment their gazes locked and she saw the heat in his eyes, her cheeks flamed. His already dark blue eyes had darkened to the deepest midnight blue. She realized her hand was shaking as she held the dress. His fingers wrapped around the slinky fabric, brushing hers as they did, and for a moment, time froze, his fingers against hers, and a sultry heat simmered between them.

Then his hand drew away, the dress with it, leaving her close to naked, and feeling vulnerable in her lacy black bra cut low in front and her skimpy black thong. God, she didn't want to turn around. He might know women who would wear a bikini this scanty on a public beach, but not her. She reserved this level of sexy for the bedroom.

Or it seemed now, a high stakes poker game with a billionaire playboy.

He placed the dress on the table and sat down. He didn't leer, or even obviously peruse her body, which she had to admit was classy on his part.

But her skin prickled with awareness of his closeness and masculinity. And she knew that even though he wasn't being obvious, he was taking in every inch of her almost naked body.

She had to face it, if the man offered to bed her to give her what she wanted, she'd probably drop her panties right now.

She sat down as he dealt out the cards again and she picked up hers. Her hand was a mish mash... one king and the rest non-face cards. She kept the king and a ten, both spades, hoping for a flush, or at least another king.

"How many cards?" he asked.

"I'll take three."

He dealt her the three cards and she peered at them. There was no king, but she did get a pair of twos and another ten. That was two pair.

She schooled her features not to give anything away and glanced across the table at him.

"I'll hold," he said.

Usually, they would bet now, but the current wager was her dress against him allowing her to talk to him.

"So I reveal now?" she asked.

"You mean more than you already have?" His eyebrow arched as his gaze fell on her breasts.

"I mean my cards."

"No, we're not finished betting."

"I thought the dress..."

"Allowed you into the hand, yes. But now I'm going to raise."

"But I don't have any money. You expect me to fold?"

He shrugged. "If you want. But I think you're quite happy with your hand and would be willing to put more on the table, so to speak."

"I'm not taking off my bra," she said, eyes flashing. His lips turned up on the sides in a grin. "Or anything else."

He nodded. "All right. Then I have a suggestion."

She pursed her lips as she took in his handsome face, his intelligent gaze considering her.

"And what is that?"

"If I win, you let me touch you."

"Touch me?" Thoughts of his big hands cupping her breasts. Gently squeezing, then his fingers finding her aching nipples and stroking, then pinching them between his fingertips, took her breath away.

She'd like that. In fact, she'd like nothing more than to strip away her lingerie and lie back on the table to let him take her.

Except to have that talk with him. And walk away with some shred of dignity.

"We said no sex."

"I'm not talking sex. Just touching."

"Why would I let you do that?"

"I'll touch only bare skin. And let me make it more interesting."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"If you win, then we talk, just as you wanted."

"That was already the deal."

"But what if I promise at least one counter proposal."

"I don't understand."

"You want to talk to me. Which means you want something from me. I don't know what it is, but the answer will likely be no."

Her heart compressed at the word but he was right. This whole thing was a long shot, but it was the only shot she had.

"I'm suggesting that when you make whatever request you will be making, that I won't just say no. I will try to find a counter proposal that will work for us."

She pursed her lips. She didn't know what the counter proposal would be to putting her brother-in-law in jail. Maybe lowering the charges? Forgiving the debt? Maybe promising him a job once his sentence was done?

She had no idea, but Mr. Danner being open to more than just saying no was definitely a good thing.

Especially since she was sure he was bluffing. Or, at least, didn't have a hand that could beat two pair.

"All right."

He smiled, and at the predatory look in his eyes, she realized he was going to win. The blood drained from her face as he flipped over his cards... revealing a full house.

Oh, God, she'd lost her opportunity to try and convince him to help Ella and her husband.

"Come over here." His silken voice curled through her and she stood up.

Now he would touch her... probably cup her ass with his big hand. Maybe, if she seemed willing...who was she kidding, she was willing... to succumb to his touch, then maybe he would listen to her after all.

Shock vaulted through her at her own illicit thoughts. She wasn't going to sleep with him to help Ella.

No, just strip down to practically nothing. Then let him touch her.

Did she really know where her boundaries were?

He watched as she walked around the long table, then approached him, his gaze locked on the swell of her breasts above the lace cups. Her nipples puckered at the thought of him stroking her there.

He pushed his chair back from the table and turned sideways as she continued toward him. His intense male gaze sent heat shimmering through her.

Finally, she stood facing him.

"Let your hair down."

It had nothing to do with the deal they'd struck, but she reached behind her head and opened the clip, letting her long hair spill down over her shoulders.

He lifted his hand, and as it approached her, she calmed her breathing, readying herself for his touch. It would only be a moment.

But she wasn't prepared for the spark of desire that flared through her when his fingertips brushed against her arm, just above her elbow. Then his fingers moved. Upward. Trailing lightly over her skin, then stroked her hair back over her shoulder. She drew in a slow breath as he glided downward again, over the soft exposed skin of her breast, right to the lace of her bra. His fingertip grazed lightly under the scalloped edges, but not breaching the barrier of the satin cup.

Clearly, he liked to push boundaries.

And she was close to pulling back that boundary, by tugging the cup forward and inviting him to explore further. The thought of his big fingers gliding over her hard nipple sent her pulse fluttering.

Her own potent reaction to him startled her and she stepped back.

"I... uh... we're done now."

He arched an eyebrow. "I don't think so."

"You said a touch," she stammered.

"And you didn't say how long. I'm not finished."