Page 9 of Conning the Billionaire
Oh, yeah. Her con. She broke eye contact with the guy and gestured with her phone. “I think he’s cheating on me with Miranda again. Are you in a relationship?”
Kylie always used the name Miranda as the other woman. It was easier to keep track of than to keep making up names, like passwords.
The man looked down at the floor between their feet, sighed, and then looked into her eyes again. “Cheaters are not worth your time, love. You should leave him. You’re worth so much more than that. You deserve someone who will treasure you like the prize you are.”
His opalescent eyes didn’t waver.
Longing knifed through her.
But the moment passed, and Kylie fell back into her own life. She wasn’t a prize to be treasured. Kylie was a raccoon in human form, the soul of a trash panda, scurrying through the darkness to filch what she could out of the garbage bins of society to hide and survive in the night.
But she did survive.
To survive, she had to provide for herself and her friends.
And several shadows huddling on the boardwalk at night depended on how much she could take off guys like this one.
Kylie blinked up at the man, pretending that hope shined in her eyes. “Do you really think so?”
“Yes, love. You do deserve it. You seem to have perked up, so I’ll be off. I hope your night improves.”
The man pushed off the wall beside her and stepped forward, beginning to walk toward the poker tables.
As he strolled away, the soles of his shoes flashed red, contrasting with the blue carpeting on the floor.
The man was wearing actual goddamn Louboutins, and their pristine scarlet soles meant he sure as hell hadn’t found those nine-hundred-dollar shoes in a pawn shop.
Damn, this guy could be a real catch.
Excitement stirred her stomach. She might be able to take enough off this guy to make rent for two months, plus Alma had said her toddler needed a doctor’s appointment. Kylie could even budget a little extra money for the homeless folks on the Boardwalk.
And he was going to give it to her willingly, and he wouldn’t go to the police about it because he wouldn’t want his wife to find out afterward. It was hard for the police to ever prosecute anything she was doing because she wasn’t a thief or a prostitute. Kylie convinced men to give her money and gifts again and again and again, and it was tough to write a law against persuading stupid people to give you cash.
But he was sauntering away from her, his long legs covering the carpeting with each stride. His trim form moved athletically.
Him walking away from her wasn’t part of the goddamned plan.
The mark was supposed to pursue her, to think he was taking advantage of her.
Marks didn’t walk away from her.
Kylie trotted after the guy. “Um, as you were saying, um, hey! Wait for me!”
5
NOT A DAMNED AMATEUR
KYLIE
The man turned back and watched her walking toward him. In the flashing lights of the casino, his eyes changed color constantly, now blue, now gray, and now glittering with green and aqua.
As she neared him, she realized that oh yeah, this man was dang tall. Over six feet.
A lot over six feet.
She tilted her head way back as she approached, seeking to keep looking into his eyes. “You forgot your handkerchief.”
He waited and watched her trot toward him, teetering on her ridiculously high heels, but he wasn’t walking away.
