The Winning Hand

  “I’m not the bubble-brain you apparently think I am. I know how to buy a house, and I’ve done it.”

  “You have no business buying a house in Vegas.”

  “Oh really?” Her emotions were careering so fast she didn’t know how her words could keep pace. “Do you own the entire city and its environs now? Well, I seem to have found the one little spot you don’t have control over. I like it here, and I’m staying.”

  “Life is not an endless cruise down the Strip.”

  “And Vegas is not only the Strip. It’s the fastest growing city in the country, and one of the most livable. It has an excellent school system, job opportunities abound and the housing is very affordable. Water’s a problem, and that’s an issue that’s going to have to be seriously addressed in the near future. However, the crime rate is markedly low in comparison with other major cities and the area’s continuing ability to reinvent itself gives it high marks for potential into the next century.”

  She paused, her eyes glittering when he said nothing. “I’m a writer. I was a librarian. I damn well know how to research.”

  “Did your research mention how many pawnshops are in Vegas per square mile? Did it touch on prostitution, corruption, money laundering, gambling addictions?”

  “Actually, it did,” she said evenly now. “Sin exists. It may shock you to know I was aware of it before I came here.”

  “You simply haven’t thought this through.”

  “You’re wrong. Absolutely wrong. I didn’t buy this house blind, and I didn’t buy it so I could keep falling at your feet. I bought it for me,” she said fiercely. “Because I found something I always wanted and never expected to have. But don’t worry, Vegas is big enough so that I won’t get in your way.”

  “Wait a minute. Damn it,” he muttered, and put a hand on her shoulder to turn her. But she spun around, lifting both hands with a look in her eye that warned him to keep his distance.

  “Don’t. I don’t need placating, and I don’t intend to cause a scene. I’m grateful to you, and I don’t want to forget that. I fully intend to have a relationship with your parents, your family, and I don’t want to put them, or you, in a position that makes that difficult. But you hurt me,” she said quietly. “And you didn’t have to.”

  She walked to the door, shut it firmly behind her.

  Chapter 12

  “So we agree to forgive two million of Harisuki and Tanaka’s baccarat losses.” Justin lounged in the wide leather chair, pretending he didn’t notice his son’s inattention. “That puts them into the casino for ten and twelve million respectively. We comp the rooms, the meals, the bar bills and cover their wives’ spending spree in the boutique. They’ll be back,” he said, drawing idly on his cigar. “And they’ll drop the next several million right here instead of across the street. You arranged for the limo for them tomorrow?” He waited a beat. “Mac?”

  “What? Yes. It’s taken care of.”

  “Good. Now that we’ve finished all that up, you can tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “Nothing in particular. Do you want a beer?”

  Justin indicated assent with a wave of his hand. “We always had to pry problems out of you. Your determination to handle everything yourself is admirable, but it’s annoying.” He smiled cheerfully at his son and accepted the cold brown bottle. “However, in this case, prying isn’t necessary—trouble with Darcy.”

  “No. Yes. No,” Mac repeated, and blew out a breath. “She sold her book. Actually she sold two books.”

  “That’s wonderful. She must be thrilled. Why aren’t you?”

  “I am. I’m happy for her. It’s what she’s always wanted. I don’t think I realized how much she wanted it. This will give her a whole new direction.”

  “Is that what’s worrying you? She won’t need you anymore?”

  “No. The whole issue is for her to move ahead with her life. This was just some breathing space for her.”

  “Was it? Mac, are you in love with her?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “It’s the only point that counts.”

  “I’m wrong for her. This place is wrong for her.” Restless, he stalked to the window, staring out at the carnival of neon and colored fountains. “Once she focuses she’ll see that.”

  “Why are you wrong for her? It seemed to me you complemented each other very well.”

  “I run a casino. My peak hours are when sensible people are tucked into their beds.” He jammed his hands into his pockets. “She’s lived a sheltered life. More, a repressed one where she’s been held back, held down. She’s just starting to realize what she can do and be and have. I don’t have any right to interfere with that.”

  “You’re making this black and white, sinner and saint. I don’t think either of you qualify. You’re a businessman, and a good one. She’s an interesting, refreshingly enthusiastic young woman.”

  “Who walked in here a few weeks ago,” Mac reminded him. “A few weeks ago and at a turning point in her life. She can’t possibly know what her feelings are.”

  “You underestimate her. But regardless, aren’t your own feelings important?”

  “I’ve already let my feelings take over more than once. She walked in here untouched.” Mac turned back, his eyes swirling and dark. “I changed that. I should have kept my hands off her, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

  “Now you’re going to punish yourself for being human,” Justin concluded. “You’re going to deny yourself a relationship that makes you happy, and your reasoning is she’ll be better off.”

  “She’s dazzled,” Mac insisted, wondering why saying it all out loud this way made it sound so wrong and so foolish. “And only seeing what she wants to see. She bought a house, for God’s sake.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “And—you know.” Mac stared at his father.

  “She took your mother to see it the day after she signed the contract. I went to see it myself. It’s a fine piece of property, an intriguing, attractive home.”

  “It’s ludicrous to buy a house in a place you’ve only been for a few weeks, and when you’ve spent most of that time in a hotel casino. She’s living in a fantasy land.”

  “No, she’s not. She knows exactly what she wants, and I’m surprised you don’t realize that. If you don’t want her, that’s a different matter.”

  “I can’t stop wanting her.” It was like an ache that couldn’t be eased. “I was sure I could.”

  “Wanting’s easy. The first time I saw your mother I wanted her. That was as natural as breathing. But loving her terrified me. Sometimes it still does.”

  Surprised, Mac lowered to a chair. “You make that part look easy, too. You always have. You’re so … matched,” he decided.

  “Is that the problem?” Justin leaned over, put his hand over Mac’s.

  “No, not a problem. It’s just that marriages work in our family. The odds are against it, but they work for us.” He studied the gold band on his father’s finger. Thirty years, he thought, and it still fit. That was a kind of miracle. “I figure they work because we’re careful to find a mate—in the literal sense of the word. A match.”

  “You’re seeing your mother and I as a set, something that came that way. It’s not true. We were a half-breed ex-con who’d gotten lucky and the privileged daughter of wealthy, indulgent parents. Long odds, Mac, on a pair like that.”

  “But you were heading in the same direction.”

  Justin leaned back again, eyes sharp. “The hell we were. What we did was beat a new path, and there were plenty of bumps along the way.”

  “You’re telling me I’ve made a mistake,” Mac murmured. “And maybe you’re right.” He ran his hand over his face. “I’m not sure anymore.”

  “You want guarantees? There aren’t any. Loving a woman’s the riskiest game in town. You either put up your stake, or you back away from the table. But if you back away, you never win. Is she the woman you want?”

 
“Yes.”

  “I’ll ask you again. Are you in love with her?”

  “Yes.” Admitting it intensified the ache. “And yes, it’s terrifying.”

  Sympathizing, Justin smiled. “What do you want to do about it.”

  “I want her back.” He let out a long breath. “I’ve got to get her back.”

  “How bad have you screwed it up?”

  “Pretty bad.” It made him slightly ill to realize just how poorly he’d played his hand. “I all but shoved her out the door.”

  “It may take some fast talk to get her to open her side of that door again.”

  “So I’ll talk fast.” Misery vanished in a spurt of reckless energy. It was a new hand, he thought, fresh cards. And everything he had was going into the pot. “I’d better go down and try to work this out with her. She must be sitting in her room, miserable, when she should be out celebrating.”

  “I think you lose on that one,” Justin murmured, studying the screens.

  “There’s a pair of star-shaped diamond earrings in the jewelry store downstairs.” Mac checked his pocket to make certain he had his passkey for the elevator. Just in case. “She should have something special to celebrate selling her book.”

  He was suddenly nervous, a sensation he wasn’t accustomed to. “Do you think the earrings and flowers are overkill?”

  Justin ran his tongue around his teeth. “I don’t think you can ever overkill in a situation like this. But … you’re not going to find Darcy in her room.”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’d better take a look. Screen three, second craps table from the left.”

  Anxious to be on his way, Mac glanced absently at the screen. Then looked again. His wounded fairy was decked out in that little killer of a red dress with spiked heels to match, and was blowing on a pair of dice.

  “What the hell is she doing?”

  “Going for an eight. That’s her point. Five and a three,” he said, and grinned when he heard his son slam the door on his way out. “The lady wins.”

  “Come on, baby. Come on, doll. Bring it home.”

  The man cheering beside Darcy was old enough to be her father, so she didn’t mind the little pat he gave her butt. She took it as a good-luck wish.

  She shook the dice in her hand, leaned over the long table and let them fly. Cheers roared out, and money and chips changed hands too quickly for her to follow.

  “Seven! All right.” She pumped a fist in the air. After raking in her pile of chips, she began recklessly distributing them again. “This on the point, and this, um, behind. Five’s my point.”

  “Roll ’em, blondie.” The man on the other side of her plunked a hundred-dollar bill on the table. “You’re hot.”

  “Damn right I am.” She sent the dice tumbling, squinting through the smoke, and howled with triumph when the ivories came up three and two.

  “I don’t know why I thought this game was so hard.” She grinned then gulped from the fresh glass of champagne someone handed her. “Hold this, will you?” She shoved the glass at the butt-patter and picked up the dice. “Let mine ride,” she told the croupier. “God, I love saying that!” She tossed the dice, then danced on three-inch heels.

  Mac had to elbow his way through a crowd gathered four deep. His first sight of her was a tight little butt molded into clinging red. He caught her elbow just after her toss, and his words were swallowed by the roar of players and onlookers.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  She tossed back her head, drunk on victory. “I’m kicking your ass. Back up and give me room so I can kick it some more.”

  He snagged her wrist as she leaned over to scoop up the dice. “Cash in.”

  “The hell I will. I’m smoking.”

  “Come on, pal, let the lady roll.”

  Mac merely turned his head and iced down the eager player on the corner of the table with a look. “Cash her in,” he ordered the croupier, then dragged Darcy through the bitter complaints of the crowd.

  “You can’t make me stop playing when I’m on a streak.”

  “You’re wrong. This is my place, and I can make anybody stop playing anytime. The house has the edge.”

  “Fine.” She jerked her arm free. “I’ll take my business elsewhere, and I’m let them know the management at The Comanche can’t hold up under a run of honest luck.”

  “Darcy, come upstairs. We need to talk.”

  “Don’t tell me what I need to do.” She pulled away again sharply, almost pleased when heads turned and attention zeroed in on them. “I told you I wouldn’t cause a scene, but I will if you push me. You can kick me out of your casino, and you can kick me out of your hotel, but you can’t tell me what I need to do.”

  “I’m asking you,” he said with what he considered amazing patience, “to come with me so we can discuss this privately.”

  “And I’m telling you, I’m not interested.”

  “Okay, the hard way.” He scooped her up and over his shoulder. He’d taken ten strides before she broke through the shock and began to struggle.

  “Let go of me. You can’t treat me this way.”

  “You made your choice,” he said grimly, and ignored the stunned looks of guests and staff as he carted her to the elevator.

  “I don’t want to talk to you. I’m already packed. I’m leaving in the morning. Just let me go.”

  “The hell I will.” He keyed in her floor, then dumped her back on her feet. “You’ve got a stubborn streak in you, and I’m—” He broke off when her fist punched into his stomach. It didn’t do much more than bounce off and cause him to lift a coolly amused brow.

  “We’ll have to work on that.”

  Conceding that she was outgunned, Darcy folded her arms. When the doors opened into her suite, she sailed out. “This may be your place, but this is my room until morning, and I don’t want you in it.”

  “We need to straighten things out.”

  “Things are perfectly straight, thank you just the same.”

  “Darcy, you don’t understand.”

  She shoved away the hands he’d laid on her shoulders. “That’s just it, isn’t it? You don’t think I understand anything. You think I’m a fluff-brained idiot who doesn’t know how to take care of herself.”

  “I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

  “But fluff-brained just the same,” she countered. “Well, I’m sharp enough to know that you got tired of me and your solution was to brush me off like an irritating child.”

  “Tired of you?” At the end of his rope, he dragged his hands through his hair. “I know I made a mess of it. Let me explain.”

  “There’s nothing to explain. You don’t want me. Fine. I’m not going to jump off a roof over it.” She jerked a shoulder and turned away. “I’m young, I’m rich, I have my career to think of. And you’re not the only man in the world.”

  “Just a damn minute.”

  “You were the first.” She shot a searing look over her shoulder. “That doesn’t mean you have to be the last.”

  Which had been one of his points. Exactly one of the reasons he’d been so determined to step away. But hearing it from her, seeing that hot, female look in her eyes had a rage bubbling up in him so violently it hazed his vision.

  “Watch your step, Darcy.”

  “I’ve watched it all my life, and I’m finished. I like leaping before I look. And so far I’m landing on my feet. If and when I fall it’ll be my problem and no one else’s.”

  Panic skidded up his spine because he could see she meant it. She could do it, would do it. “You know damn well you’re in love with me.”

  Her heart toppled and cracked. “Because I slept with you? Please.”

  However derisive her words, her fingers had linked together and twisted. It was just enough of a tell for him to call her bluff. “You wouldn’t have slept with me if you hadn’t been in love with me. If I held you right now, if I put my mouth on yours, you’d tell me without say
ing a word.”

  Every defense crumbled. “You knew, and you used it.”

  “Maybe I did. I’ve had a hard time with that, and made more mistakes because I couldn’t get past it.”

  “Are you guilty or angry, Mac?” Wearily she turned away again. “You broke my heart. I’d have given it to you on a platter. It wasn’t even enough for you not to want it, you ignored it.”

  “I told myself I was doing it for you.”

  “For me.” A laugh choked out. “Well, that was considerate of you.”

  “Darcy.” He reached out, but her shoulders rounded as she cringed away. An ache sliced through him as he dropped his hands again. “I won’t touch you, but at least look at me.”

  “What do you want from me? Do you want me to say it’s all right? That I understand? I won’t hold it against you? It’s not all right.” Her breath hitched in a sob that was brutal to control. “I don’t understand, and I’m trying not to hold it against you. You weren’t obligated to feel what I felt—that was my gamble. But in the end you could have been kind.”

  “If I’d trusted my feelings, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. And I don’t want to have it here.” When a hunch came this sudden and strong, he knew to ride it out. “I want to see your house.”

  “What?”

  “I’d like very much to see your house. Now.”

  “Now?” She passed a hand over her eyes. “It’s late. I’m tired. I don’t have the keys.”

  “What’s the name of the Realtor? Do you have a card?”

  “Yes, on the desk. But—”

  “Good.”

  To her confusion he walked to the phone, dialed the number and in less than two minutes was on a first-name basis with Marion Baines and jotting down her address.

  “She’ll give us the keys,” Mac told Darcy when he hung up. “Shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes to get to her place.”

  “You’re a powerful man,” she said dryly. “What’s the point of this?”

  “Take a chance.” He smiled in challenge. “Leap before you look. Do you want a jacket?”

  She refused one, and would have refused to go with him if she hadn’t wanted one scrap of pride to take with her. They didn’t speak. She thought that was best. Perhaps, somehow, this quiet drive would settle the nerves and let them part—if not as friends—with some respect for each other.

  He seemed to know his way. He picked up the keys without incident, then easily wove toward the outskirts where her house stood, a soft silhouette under the slowly waning moon.

  “Trust you,” he murmured, scanning the shape. “You found a castle after all.”

  It nearly made her smile. “That’s what I thought when I saw it. That’s how I knew it was mine.”

  “Ask me in.”

  “You’ve got the keys,” she noted, and opened her door.

  He waited until she’d rounded the hood, then held the keys out to her. “Ask me in, Darcy.”

  She fought the urge to snatch the keys from him, telling herself he was trying to do what he could to make the situation less miserable. She accepted the keys and started up the walk.

  “I’ve never been in it at night. There are floodlights in both the house and yard.”

  He thought about her out there, alone, at night. “Is there a security system?”

  “Yes, I have the code.” She unlocked the door and turned directly to a small box beside it. She disengaged the alarm, then switched on the lights.

  He said nothing, but walked through much as his mother had done. But in this case, the silence unnerved her. “I’ve been looking at furniture, found many pieces that I like.”

  “It’s a lot of space.”