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They had to pass three tables before they found one with two open seats. He got Taylor in position, then sat on the stool next to her. Rubbing the smooth green felt, he checked out their compatriots. An older couple in brightly colored Hawaiian shirts, a tall gaunt man with a three-day stubble and hooded eyes and a young woman who didn’t look old enough to drive, let alone gamble.
The dealer’s name was Angel, and her name tag said she was from Tucson. She’d already dealt a hand, and was now going around the table, taking everyone’s bets, as she’d hit twenty-one in five cards.
Ben got out his wallet and pulled out a hundred. He laid it down above the rectangle where he’d place his own bet.
Taylor reached for her purse, but he stopped her. “This one’s on me,” he said. “For luck.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you sure? I brought fun money.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to spend it. I promise.”
“All right. Thank you.”
Angel took his bill, laid it out flat in front of her, so the security cameras could get a good shot, called out, “Change one hundred,” for the benefit of the pit boss, then gave him a stack of five, ten and twenty dollar chips. He split them up, fifty-fifty and gave Taylor her share.
She smiled again, making him want to give her all the money in his wallet, then she put a five, the minimum bet, down to play.
He did the same.
The dealer, taking the cards from the shoe, dealt the hand, and after the second card, Taylor gasped, turned over her cards to show a jack and an ace.
The dealer paid her, took her cards, then went on with the rest of the hand. Ben had a twenty, so he stayed pat. He leaned over to Taylor, getting a heady hit of her delicate scent for his trouble. “See, I told you we were going to be lucky.”
She turned to face him, her expression serious, but with a telltale gleam in her beautiful blue eyes. “You have no idea.”
His whole body reacted to her message, and it was all he could do not to leave the money, the cards, his dignity on the table and drag her up to his room. But he was strong, dammit. He wasn’t a teenager, run by his hormones. Half the fun was the seduction, and he wasn’t about to give short shrift to what promised to be the best week of his life. He’d wait. He’d play. And in the end, they’d both win.
The next round went by in a blur, but since the dealer busted, they both won.
The woman sitting to his left smiled. “Where are you two from?”
Before Taylor could speak, he nudged her lightly with his elbow. “Home base is London.”
“Really?”
He turned slyly to Taylor and gave her a wink before facing his neighbor again. “Yes.”
“You don’t have a British accent.”
“We’re trained not to.”
She blinked. “Oh.”
“I’m James,” he said, holding out his hand. “And this is Jinx.”
He heard Taylor cough, which he assumed was a cover for laughter. She didn’t know that this was a game he played frequently, making up some ridiculous persona when the truth would have done just as well, but less amusingly.
“I’m Sarah,” she said. “I live in the Valley. That’s in Southern California.”
Ben nodded. “Ah, yes. The heart of the pornography industry.”
Sarah’s cheeks reddened. “I wouldn’t know about that.”
“Of course not.”
“I work for a post-production house. But not that kind.”
“Fascinating.”
The cards went out again, and until the payout, the conversation ebbed. Taylor took the opportunity to elbow him.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Having fun,” he whispered back.
“So you fancy yourself Bond, eh?”
“Hey, I could have called you Pussy Galore.”
“I would have decked you if you had.”
He grinned. “Hey, she was a real character.”
“Only a man would say that was a real character.”
“Sir?”
He looked up at Angel, waiting for him to hit or stand pat. His cards, a six and five, were a surprise. He doubled down, and she hit him with a king. Twenty-one.
Taylor didn’t say anything, just gave him a smile. But as the rest of the hands were played, he felt something at his ankle. It was Taylor’s foot. She’d slipped off her shoe, and was using her bare toes to tease him. It worked.
He glanced at her, but the smile had become a sly grin, and her gaze had shifted to Angel, watching her shuffle as if it mattered.
Ben said nothing, just enjoyed the feeling of her toes. He’d never been a foot man, but at the moment, he could understand the impulse. It wasn’t easy to stay still, and not touch her thigh and run his hand over that smooth skin. The image of her on his bed, naked, him holding her by the heel as he studied her pink painted nails, took hold of him and didn’t let him go until Angel coughed.
He picked up his cards, a ten and a seven, then slipped them under his ten-dollar bet. He didn’t give a damn if he won or not. The only thing that mattered at the moment was the woman next to him.
Just as he was about to suggest they leave, a waitress came by. She was young and pretty, as were all the cocktail waitresses in the hotel. Taylor turned to her. “I’ll have a Bloody Mary,” she said. “He’ll have a martini. Shaken, not stirred.”
He laughed. The waitress jotted the orders without so much as a blink, then got the rest of the drink orders. So Taylor liked his game.
He faced Sarah. “Are you here by yourself?”
She shook her head. “I’m with three friends from work.”
“And they are…?”
“At the pool. But I burn so easily, it seemed kind of dumb.”
“This is more interesting,” he said. “You can learn a lot about people by watching them gamble.”
“Really?”
“See that man at the Wheel of Fortune?”
She followed his gaze and nodded when she saw the portly fellow standing next to his stool, feeding a bill into the machine. He didn’t look as if he was having a very good time. In fact, his heavy brows furrowed to match his scowl, his scalp, bald all the way back to the crown of his head, was beaded with sweat. His light cotton shirt was stretched across his ample beer belly, and there were large circles of sweat under his arms. He ignored the pull lever, pushing the maximum-bet button with the palm of his hand. As the wheels spun, his lips moved. Probably a prayer, and then a curse as he got nothing, nothing, nothing.
“He isn’t having much luck,” Sarah observed.
“No, it doesn’t appear he is. You know that every time he pushes the button, it’s two dollars.”
“Oh.”
“And since we’ve been watching him, he’s pressed that button what, twelve times? That’s twenty-four dollars. He was standing there before we sat down.”
“Whoa, that’s a lot of money.”
“He’s not holding a bucket, so no winnings.”
“Yikes.”
“Indeed. What else do you see?”
While Sarah studied the scene, he turned to Taylor. “You realize, of course,” he whispered, “you’re not going to get away with this unscathed.”
“What?” she asked, batting her eyelashes like the soul of innocence while she inched her toes up his calf.
“Whatever you had planned this afternoon? Cancel it.”
Her cheeks became pink and the gaze that met his was full of anticipation and excitement. “I don’t know,” she said. “I have to meet my mother.”
“Meet her later.”
“You presume, Mr. Bowman.”
He looked at her for a long moment. Then he leaned over so his lips were an inch from the soft shell of her ear. “I’m going to make you beg for mercy.”
She inhaled sharply, grabbed her cards with trembling fingers.
Sarah, to his left, said, “Hey.”
He held back his grin as he turned to his young friend. “Yes?”
“He’s got a whole bunch of glasses stacked there. And he’s kind of swaying,” Sarah said.
“Which means?”
“He’s toasted. And scared. He’s lost a whole bunch of money and he’s trying to win it back.”
“Excellent.”
“Cool.”
“It pays to be observant.”
It was Sarah’s turn to grin. “Like seeing that you two aren’t from London at all. That you’ve been playing footsie for about ten minutes, and that while I’m not positive your name isn’t James, it sure as heck isn’t Bond.”
Taylor laughed. Angel grinned, and it wasn’t because she’d dealt herself twenty-one.
“Very good, Sarah. If you ever get tired of post-production, you’d make a good detective.”
She smiled, mightily pleased with herself. “Is that what you really do?”
He held out his hand. “Ben Bowman, Private Detective.”
She shook his hand, but her gaze went to Taylor. “Are you a P.I., too?”
“I’m a paralegal, which isn’t half as interesting.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.”
“Are you playing, sir?”
Ben realized he’d abandoned his cards altogether. He slipped two five dollar chips into the rectangle, and put another five above it, playing the bet for the dealer.
Taylor and Sarah both straightened, made their own bets, and each of them followed suit in tipping Angel. It turned out well for everyone. Angel busted with twenty-four.
“It’s almost noon,” Taylor said. “My mother’s going to be here in an hour.”
He shoved his whole stack of chips toward the center of the table. “Cash me in, please.”
Taylor’s laughter was as intoxicating as the drink that arrived while he waited for his chips.
“Still want to cash out?” Taylor asked.
“Oh, yeah.”
“But our drinks…”
“Are portable.”
“Good point.”
Sarah sighed. “You guys are so lucky. How wonderful to be in love in Las Vegas.”
Ben froze, Taylor cleared her throat and Angel wasn’t at all successful in hiding a knowing grin.
Taylor pushed her chips in after Ben got his money back. “We are lucky, thank you. But we’re actually here for my brother’s wedding.”
