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.