“Play the game,” he said softly.

“The game from hell,” she said, and smiled up at him and jokingly said with a bat of her lashes, “Whatever you say, my lord and master.”

“And if I believed that I’d buy up all the swampland and be a millionaire.”

She laughed, and it was well timed as they joined the two men. “Judge,” Luke said with a nod.

“This is Paul Arel,” the Judge replied without acknowledging Luke’s greeting. “Your host.”

“Bonsoir, Monsieur Walker.” He tilted his head toward Luke, but never offered his hand. Turning to Julie, his eyes carefully fixed on her eyes, and not her br**sts, he said, “Et Ms. Harrison, tres belle, just as I have heard.”

Luke knew why Arel watched her eyes. The eyes were the path to the soul, to your hidden secrets, and he was trying to read her. “Thank you,” Julie said. “And I so appreciate the invitation tonight.”

“I hope the ride over was comfortable, Julie. You don’t mind if I call you Julie, do you? Certainly you may call me Paul.”

“The ride was not what was expected,” Luke said, ending Arel’s attempt to pull down her guard, something he’d never achieve. Julie might be scared, but she was a brilliant attorney, and a smart cookie. ”I don’t like talking around things. Time is money, and I know you want more of it, as do I. I believe we can find some mutually beneficial ground, but trust needs to be established.”

“Ah,” Arel said. “Indeed, it does. Why don’t you get a drink, and relax a bit. Then we can talk about exactly how my trust might be obtained. It will not be a easy task.”

Damn, the man’s accent was killing him. Luke looked down at Julie. “Go get us drinks, darlin’, and let me talk business.”

Julie nodded. “Of course.” She started to move and Luke pulled her mouth to his, sliding his tongue against hers, before he added, “Make it quick. I’m feeling rather thirsty all of a sudden.”

Her eyes went wide but she nodded and he released her.

Judge Moore stared at Julie’s retreating back and laughed in disbelief. “Tell me your secret for making a woman like that submissive.”

Luke focused on the judge with a hard stare. “Start with being me, not you.”

Arel barked out a laugh while the judge looked like he wanted to throttle Luke. There was growing interest in Arel’s attention to Luke. “You have balls, I’ll give you that, but do you have brains and stamina?”

Luke’s lips twitched. “You’ll have to give me trust to find out.”

Arel laughed. “Your brothers, they are, as you Americans say.. Saints? Why should I believe you are not one as well, perhaps in disguise?”

“Because everyone who’s supposed to be a saint is, right?” he asked sarcastically, his gaze settling on the judge, and returning to Arel. “I assume you keep him around because his assumed sainthood has come in quite handy?”

Arel didn’t reply, his gaze penetrating. “You were a SEAL, non?”

“I was.”

“SEALs are–“

“Trained killers,” Luke provided.

Arel considered that during another eternal pause. “What is it you feel you can do for me, Monsieur Walker?”

Luke noted the formality. No first names for him. “I have a knack for procuring, shall we say, difficult to find art work.” Luke’s gaze moved to the piece above the fireplace. “Much like that one.”

Arel let a slow smile slip onto his lips. “You are an interesting man. Still, art is only a sideline interest. I need someone who can be more diverse.”

Luke quirked a brow. “I consider everything.” He paused and then added, “If the price is right.”

Arel’s eyes narrowed. “The woman, she has a powerful list of clients. You control her?”

“Completely.”

“You can get to anyone she can get to?”

“Yes.”

He narrowed his gaze. ”You will be tested, Monsieur Walker, and we will start small. See you don’t fail. Those who fail me, I don’t kill them until they feel great pain.”

“I don’t fail. Ever. So get on with the test.”

“You will be contacted,” Arel said, and then with a small smile, added, “Now go enjoy my hospitality, and please feel free to use the upstairs rooms for...” Arel flicked a glance at Julie as she approached. “Tonight should be about money and pleasure.” He smiled wickedly. “When you wish to leave, simply tell my driver.”

He nodded to Luke, and then waved for the judge to follow him as he stood up started for the door, with the judge on his heels like a whipped pup.

Julie blinked in confusion. “What happened?”

He gave her a tight smile. “It’s moving along fine.”

Lethally fine, that was.

***

Judge Moore followed Arel into his private office, fighting his growing uneasiness. The room was filled with a large, mahogany desk, plush leather furnishings, and decorated with a vast collection of art. As usual the judge’s eyes locked onto the The D’Ambrosi, The Dancer, bronze 15’ statue on a wooden base next to the desk he’d found for Arel. This one was fake, like everything in this place, but Arel had the real work, as he had so many brilliant masterpieces the judge hungered to possess.

Two large brown wing chairs sat in front of a fireplace that sparked red hot. Waving a hand toward the chairs, Arel said, “Let’s sit.” The chairs were angled toward each other, and the judge knew Arel would be watching him the way he always watched everyone. Looking for anything that was off, any reason to consider someone a threat.