Luck's best weapon was, and always would be, shameless bullshit.
He straightened, forced himself to meet her gaze head-on.
"The price is a night with you. That's it. One night, no strings. You get your artifact, I get… well, I get to sleep with such a high class woman."
For a moment, the wind and the world seemed to freeze. Even the cicadas held their breath by his outrageous request.
She stared at him with the look of an assassin considering which part of her victim to eviscerate first.
"I see. You are bolder than you appear," she murmured.
"Most men in your position would beg. You—" she let the word float, as if to taste it—"bargain for a night with me? And you believe you can withstand what that entails?"
Luck barely blinked. "I'm pretty confident in my stamina and performance."
She smiled, slow and incredulous, as if gazing at something both revolting and rare.
