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She stood with him. “You’re around.”
“I won’t look.”
“I might.” The thought came out her mouth before she could censor it.
“There it is,” he said softly.
“What?”
“Your secret.”
CHAPTER FIVE
THEY didn’t swim. But Jack had accomplished his mission. Kristy was getting to know him, and she was still attracted to him. He was halfway home.
The helicopter had picked them up and ferried them back to the hotel. In the interest of time, Jack had made arrangements for the rental car to be picked up at the hot air balloon base. That gave them time for a shopping spree before dinner and Cirque du Soleil.
He picked Addias Comte, a shop just off the strip in an exclusive mall.
At first, Kristy resisted the idea of him buying her clothes. But he insisted and prevailed. And, after trying on a few outfits, she got into the spirit of the adventure.
“I’m not even coming out in this one,” she called from behind the door of the spacious changing room.
“You have to come out,” he countered, sitting up straight in the leather armchair in the richly appointed alcove at the back of Addias Comte.
Silence.
“Kristy?”
“It’s …”
“What?”
“Fine.” The door opened, and Kristy marched defiantly out in an emerald-green satin cocktail dress. It was cut low, revealing a wide swath of skin between her breasts, the V dipping almost to her navel. The waist was gathered in a wide belt, with a circular rhinestone buckle that would have done Liberace proud. The way the fabric was gathered around the buckle made her look like the back of a chair at a big hotel wedding. The skirt was split up the front, revealing almost as much thigh as tummy.
Jack loved it. But she sure wasn’t going out in public like that.
“Next,” he said.
“See?” she retorted, turning to flounce back into the changing room.
Next was a plain black pinstripe, very straight, buttoned up the front with a mandarin collar and a leather belt.
“You look like you’re going to a funeral,” he said.
“Something softer?”
“Something a whole lot softer.”
She turned back into the room.
While she was changing, Jack asked the clerk to bring some jewelry, purses and a few pairs of shoes. Once she found the right dress, he fully intended to accessorize it.
The next one was basic black. It was strapless, with a small lace fringe along the neckline and a skirt that draped to mid-thigh. It was sheer and frothy, and he absolutely wanted her to wear it for him later. But it wasn’t right for tonight.
“Too short,” she said.
He nodded his agreement, but after she returned to the changing room, he instructed the clerk to wrap it for them when Kristy was done.
The next time Kristy came out, he knew they’d found the right dress. It was a snug-fitting, shimmering gold sheath. Sleeveless, with a scooped neck and a tight skirt that came almost to her knees, it was topped with a three-quarter sleeve, cropped, black satin jacket.
“You’ll need your hair up,” he said. And she’d need a diamond choker, black stockings and some spike-heeled shoes.
“You like it?” she asked, glancing down at herself.
“It’s the one.”
She stared at him in obvious surprise. “But, I’m—”
“It’s the one,” he repeated.
Just then the sales clerk arrived with the jewelry. He picked up a diamond-and-yellow-gold necklace and earring set and walked over to her.
She watched him closely, looking both worried and excited.
“Try it with these.” He unfastened the clip and motioned for her to turn around.
Her hand went to her throat, fingering the rich jewels. “Are they real?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Jack—”
“I said, don’t worry about it.” He managed to get the delicate clasp fastened.
She turned, and her cheeks were delightfully rosy. “I can’t let you—”
“Put these on.” He handed her the earrings.
Biting down on her lip, she slipped them onto her ears.
The sales clerk appeared. “Pumps or open toes?” she asked Kristy, holding up two pairs of shoes.
Kristy glanced at Jack.
He pointed to the pumps, and the sales clerk produced a pair of sheer black stockings to go with them.
He backed up to sit down on the chair again. “So now let’s see the whole thing.”
Kristy took a deep breath, but she went back into the change room without complaint.
“We’re at the Bellagio,” Jack said to the sales clerk. “Could you see if their salon will have time to do her hair tonight?”
“Certainly,” the sales clerk answered. “Anything else?”
Jack glanced around. “The black dress. A negligee—something elegant, soft, with some lace. And maybe an evening purse?”
The woman smiled. “Right away.”
WHILE KRISTY had her hair done, Jack bought himself a requisite suit at one of the hotel shops. Then he sat through an exquisitely torturous evening, hearing her laugh, watching her smile and seeing her move beneath that shimmery gold dress.
At the end of it all, he handed her the package with the negligee and all but ran into his own room. He didn’t know what it was, but something inside told him to keep his hands off for tonight. He used every ounce of his willpower to stay in his own bedroom instead of begging her to make love with him.
But then Sunday dawned, and she was wearing jeans, and it was much safer around her in the daylight. They joked their way through a tour of the Hoover Dam, then had a late lunch on the deck of a Lake Mead marina and took a sunset boat tour. By late evening, they were just off the Strip, walking hand in hand, absorbing the energy of tourists and partiers.
Suddenly Kristy stopped dead, tugging on Jack’s hand. “Oh, my God.”
He quickly scanned the crowds around them, looking for trouble. “What?”
“Over there. A gypsy fortune-teller.”
Jack shook his head, and reflexively backed away from the sign where she was pointing. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes.” She pulled hard on his hand, dragging him toward the gaudy, flashing storefront. “We need an update on your golf course. And I’ve never done this before.”
“And you don’t need to do it now.” Three was definitely a crowd. He didn’t need any distractions tonight. He was trying to think of a quiet spot back in the hotel, rehearsing over and over in his brain how he’d propose.
Not that he expected her to say no. Well, he supposed she could say no, since she already had Cleveland’s offer on the table. And wouldn’t that suck for Jack’s ego?
He shook that thought right out of his head. All things being equal, Kristy should prefer him over his grandfather. After all, she seemed to like hanging out with him, and she got all his jokes.
Still, he was unaccountably nervous at the thought of popping the question.
Luminitsa the Gypsy—Your Future Revealed, proclaimed the glass door.
“Kristy,” Jack protested, but he couldn’t bring himself to physically stop her.
Bells jingled as she pushed opened the door.
He blinked to adjust to the low light.
The room had an orange glow, candles flickered on most horizontal surfaces, and the walls were covered with tapestries, bright-colored scarves and Celtic drawings. A woman with huge earrings, eyelashes a mile long and a silk kerchief wrapped around her head, emerged from behind a beaded curtain.
“Come in. Come in.” She motioned with wrinkled, ring-bedecked hands to a small, round table.
Kristy eagerly slipped into one of the folding chairs, while Jack hoped humoring her in this wouldn’t take too long.
He glanced at the walls until he saw the gypsy’s price list. Then he handed the woman a fifty for the shortest reading she offered.
She waved her silver rings at him. “You, too. Sit, please.”
Jack clunked into the other chair with a sigh.
“You are a skeptic,” she said, arching one brightly painted eyelid.
“You could say that,” he agreed.
Kristy nudged him with an elbow. “Ignore him,” she said to the woman.
Luminitsa nodded, jangling her hoop earrings with the motion.
She held out her hands, dramatically waving them over the crystal ball positioned in the middle of the table. A spotlight shone on it from above. As she moved her hands in a series of sweeping motions, the spotlight became brighter, making the ball glow.
“I see water,” said Luminitsa. “Maybe a beach. It could be the ocean.”
“We’re going to California,” said Kristy.
Jack shot her a censorious look. The least she could do was make it slightly harder for the con artist.
The woman shook her head. “No.”
“We’re not?”
“Not today.”
“Tomorrow,” said Kristy.
“Maybe,” said the woman. She eyed Jack, then Kristy, then turned her attention to the ball.
The spotlight had gradually turned yellow, then orange, making the ball seem to have a life of its own.
The gypsy suddenly sat back. “There was a plane crash.”
Kristy shot Jack a look of astonishment.
He remained unimpressed. Everybody knew something about a plane crash somewhere.
“No. Not a crash,” said the woman. “But something …”
Kristy opened her mouth, but Jack grabbed her knee and squeezed.
She turned to give him an impish grin.
“What about the future?” he asked. “Kristy’s future.” The sooner they got to that, the sooner this would be over.
Luminitsa screwed up her wrinkled face, peering intently into the ball that was now bright red.
She jumped up. “Oh.”
