Chapter 75
The room was thick with tension as Myra remained in the spotlight, her unease palpable. Even though she had intended only to deliver the jacket, the situation had spiraled into something far more uncomfortable. As she stood there, still adjusting to the unexpected turn of events, she could feel the heat of Tony’s proximity—his warm presence seeping into her senses. When he had pulled her into the seat beside him, she had almost forgotten her original intention of leaving.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she tried to focus on the game, but Tony’s proximity made it difficult to concentrate. He leaned in close, his hand guiding hers when she hesitated over the cards. His touch was light but firm, his warm breath sending tingling shivers down her spine. The familiar scent of tobacco that lingered around him didn’t help matters either, as it only reminded her of how much he affected her. Her heartbeat quickened as she struggled to maintain her composure, reminding herself that this was just a game. She was doing this out of guilt—nothing more.
When Tony’s hand brushed over hers, guiding the cards she was about to open, Myra froze. His fingers were long, tapered, and masculine in a way that seemed to intensify the intimacy of the moment. Her face flared with embarrassment, but Tony remained calm, his deep voice smooth as he explained the game strategy in a tone that only added to her fluster.
“You can’t open this card yet,” he murmured, his voice laced with authority and warmth. “Elliot just raised the stakes. If you reveal your hand now, it’ll ruin the game for you.”
She nodded, trying her best to ignore the fluttering in her chest as he effortlessly flipped open another card, adding it to the growing pile. He barely gave her a chance to process what had just happened before his hand, warm and steady, was back in her line of sight, moving the cards expertly. She watched, slightly mesmerized, as his fingers worked swiftly, efficiently, as if guiding her through the game in a way that felt too natural—too intimate.
Elliot, meanwhile, had been watching the entire exchange with a mix of frustration and amusement. “Well, this is rich,” he muttered under his breath, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation. “I finally get a novice to play, and now you’re monopolizing the game, Tony.”
Tony’s eyes flickered toward him, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He didn’t respond to Elliot directly but simply continued guiding Myra’s hand, his eyes still locked on the game. There was an unspoken tension between them—something neither of them could easily ignore. Myra felt it, the unspoken words lingering in the air.
“Are you going to stay for long, Miss Stark?” Lucas chimed in from the side, his voice smooth and casual, as if he were unaffected by the quiet drama unfolding in front of him.
Myra shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I’m not sure,” she replied, her voice a little too quiet, betraying the nervousness she was feeling. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention, especially not from Tony. His presence was overwhelming, and his every movement seemed to send her pulse racing.
As the game continued, the others fell into their familiar rhythm. The conversation shifted between the cards, business matters, and the playful banter that had defined their interactions. But Myra remained quiet, absorbed in the game, trying to avoid looking directly at Tony. His proximity made it hard for her to think straight. His attention, though not openly affectionate, felt intense in a way she couldn’t fully comprehend.
With every round of cards, Myra grew more aware of the subtle connection between them, a tension that crackled in the air, unspoken but undeniable. She couldn’t help but wonder if Tony felt it too.