His 7-Day Fiancée. Gail Barrett

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      “Well, try to keep up this time,” Kendall said, and shook her head.

      Feeling foolish, berating her loss of control, she trailed her sister across the room. So she’d smelled Wayne’s aftershave. Big deal. He’d worn a popular brand. She’d let her imagination run away from her.

      And she had to stop it. She couldn’t keep letting him do this to her. Every time she thought of him, he won.

      But as they crossed the enormous lobby—past the restless lions, past the Roman arches leading to intriguing gardens and baths—that feeling of trepidation crept through her again, as if eyes were boring into her back. She straightened her shoulders, determined not to assume that submissive hunch, and tried to shrug the sensation off. But it only intensified, crawling up her spine, her neck, growing stronger with every step.

      Her temper flared. This was ridiculous. She didn’t deserve this constant fear. She had to put an end to the lunacy now.

      “Wait a minute,” she said to Kendall. Defiant, she stopped, whipped around.

      And met the dark, searing eyes of a man.

      But not the one who’d bumped her. This man stood apart from the rest, his feet planted wide, his hands braced low on his hips, like an ancient conqueror surveying his realm.

      His thick black hair gleamed in the lights. Heavy beard stubble shadowed his jaw. He had black, slashing brows, taut, masculine cheeks and a mouth so sensual it made her breath catch. A black suit gloved his tall frame.

      He was handsome, riveting—shockingly so. But more than his dark looks commanded attention. He had a stillness about him, a feral intensity that exuded intelligence, authority, power.

      Her heart thumped, made a funny zigzag in her chest. The word predator flashed through her mind.

      The edge of his mouth kicked up at her blatant inspection. His eyes smoldered even more. Then his own gaze dropped, making a long, slow slide over the length of her, trailing a firestorm of heat in its wake.

      Her knees trembled. A zap of awareness sizzled her blood. And a completely different type of tension arose in her nerves.

      Her face burning, she whirled back toward her sister.

      “Whoa, when I said hot men, I didn’t mean that hot,” Kendall said.

      “What?” Breathless, mortified that she’d responded so outrageously, she grabbed her sister’s arm and hauled her away.

      “You know who that was, don’t you? That was Luke Montgomery. The Luke Montgomery. Oh, for goodness sakes,” Kendall said when she shot her a blank look.

      “Don’t you know anything? He’s the billionaire who owns this place.”

      “You’re kidding.” She’d been ogling a billionaire? How ridiculous could she get?

      “No, I’m not kidding. And I can’t believe you haven’t heard of him. He’s been in the news for weeks. You know, because of that woman who was murdered, that casino heiress, Candace Rothchild?”

      “No.” Amanda slowed to navigate the steps into the gaming pit. She’d been too worried about her own precarious situation to follow the news.

      Her sister paused at the bottom of the stairs and huffed out her breath. “You’re hopeless. It’s a good thing you’re in my hands now. I’ll get you caught up on tabloid gossip and have you living in sin in no time.”

      “Great.” A wry smile nudged the corner of her mouth. “Just what I need. My own personal guide to corruption.”

      Kendall grinned back. “Hey, don’t knock it.”

      “I’m not.” Her sister might not lead a conventional life, but she did know how to have fun. And at least she hadn’t screwed everything up like Amanda had.

      Determined to forget all that, she glanced around at the flashing lights and jangling machines, the kaleidoscope of colors and noise. “All right, what’s first?”

      “Slots. Once you win a little, gain some confidence, we’ll graduate to blackjack.”

      Amanda sighed. She was pathetic. Even her sister knew she couldn’t just plunge in and enjoy herself. She had to be coaxed in slowly, teased into having fun.

      Her sister took her arm, led her down the aisle to a couple of empty stools. “Here. These machines are loose. They pay out more often.”

      “How do you know that?”

      Kendall propped one slim hip on the stool, squirmed to keep her own short dress from creeping up. “They do it on purpose. They figure if you win here, they can lure you back to the tables and steal your shirt. Now sit down and listen up.”

      Amanda slid onto the next stool over. She placed her purse on her lap, her amusement growing as her sister gave her a crash course on gambling with slots.

      Not that her sister’s expertise surprised her. Growing up, Kendall had been everything Amanda was not—confident, popular, outgoing. She’d been the star of every party, the diva on every stage. And she hadn’t been afraid to pursue her goals. The day after high school ended she’d hopped on the first bus to Vegas and landed her dream job dancing in a show.

      Whereas the far-too-cautious, ever-responsible Amanda had become a teacher and married Wayne.

      “Got it?” Kendall asked.

      Amanda pulled her thoughts from the past. “I think so.” She tugged a twenty dollar bill from her wallet and fed it into the machine, saw the credits appear.

      “Here goes.” She inhaled, selected the maximum number of coins, and pushed the button to spin the machine. Bars whirred, then stopped. More credits appeared, and she widened her eyes. “Hey, I won.”

      “I knew you would.” Kendall’s smile was smug. “I told you your luck was going to change tonight.”

      “Maybe so.” Buoyed by that small success, she pushed the button again. Three lemons. Getting the hang of it now, she threw herself into the game. Cherries combined with sevens. Lemons were followed by bars. Bells dinged. Colored lights flashed. Credits accumulated, then disappeared. Beside her, Kendall cheered, groaned and clapped at her own progress. And a half hour and a free margarita later, Amanda felt like a seasoned pro.

      “Ready for the blackjack table?” Kendall called over the noise.

      Amanda glanced up. “Go ahead. I’ll be there in a minute. I’ve just got a few pulls left.”

      “Okay. It’s in the back.” Kendall drained her drink, hopped off her stool and then jiggled her legs to straighten her dress. “Don’t forget to take your ticket. We’ll cash out before we leave.”

      Amanda waved her off and returned her attention to her machine. In the periphery of her vision, she saw Kendall collect her ticket and leave.

      She pulled the lever. Lemon-bar-seven. Drats. She pushed the button again and won. She grinned, pleased with her take so far. Not too shabby for her first attempt at gambling. She was ahead СКАЧАТЬ