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“They give you a free room?”
Jack placed his hand in the small of her back, gently steering her toward the cage.
There was something about that hand …
“If you’re losing,” he said. “They want you to stick around and keep doing it. And if you’re winning, they want you to stick around long enough to lose it back to them.”
“Is that what we’re going to do?”
“Nope. Not unless you want to.”
“I don’t want to lose.”
“Then I vote we cash out and enjoy our free room.”
A free room with Jack.
Correction, a free suite with Jack. Two rooms, really.
She glanced up at his handsome face, and her stomach fluttered at the thought of such an intimate setting with such a sexy man.
Two bedrooms, she reminded herself.
Still. It was a hotel suite. And they were in Vegas. And she’d be a bald-faced liar if she didn’t admit her mind was jumping to the possibilities.
CHAPTER THREE
KRISTY MAHONEY was quite possibly the most perplexing person Jack had ever met. She admitted she was marrying his grandfather for money, yet he practically had to twist her arm to get her to gamble. They’d walked past designer fashions, fur coats and numerous jewelry displays in the hotel lobby, and she hadn’t so much as sent a covetous look at the merchandise, never mind suggesting she needed a few things to tide her over until morning.
Any gold digger worth her salt should be demanding Cleveland send a new private jet by now or dressing herself to the nines on Jack’s credit card. Instead, she was gazing around the luxury hotel suite in what appeared to be awe.
“It’s huge,” she muttered, her heels echoing on the marble floor of the foyer, Dee Dee’s claws ticked along at her side as they stepped into the living room.
Jack shut the suite door behind them. “You were the one who insisted on two bedrooms.”
She turned. “Did I foil your plans?”
He tensed for a split second before realizing she was referring to any plans he might have had to sleep with her. “I have no plans.” At least not to make love with her. At least not tonight.
Though, if she’d agreed to one bedroom and hopped into a king-sized bed, he would have eagerly followed.
“Let me guess,” she purred. “Other women generally fall for your ‘come on up to my free hotel suite. Oh—’” she dramatically raised her hand to her lips, mimicking his voice “—look, there’s only one great big bed.’”
He couldn’t help but grin at her exaggeration. Yet, somehow her opinion pricked his pride. It seemed she felt he had no honor, and had to resort to trickery to attract women.
He found himself crossing the foyer to gaze down at her. “Kristy,” he began in his own defense. “I’m a thirty-two-year-old man who works out five mornings a week and is in control of a billion-dollar conglomerate. What have I done to make you think I can’t get women?”
She didn’t miss a beat. “You’re only thirty-two?”
God, she was spunky. “Ouch.”
“And I thought it was Cleveland who was in charge of Osland International.”
Ahhh. This one definitely had a better brain than the last two gold diggers.
“He’s the major shareholder,” said Jack. “I’m the CEO.”
She shrugged. “I don’t even know the difference.”
Like heck she didn’t.
“But, whatever,” she continued. “I’m still not sleeping with you.”
“Kristy, Kristy, Kristy.” He didn’t want her to sleep with him.
Okay, yeah, he did. Obviously. Since she was stunningly sexy, and he did have a pulse. But what he really wanted was for her to fall for him.
Which meant he should probably stop yanking her chain.
But it was so much fun to tease her. And the woman could definitely give as good as she got.
“I’m sure you get women all the time,” she conceded.
“Now you make me sound like a player.”
“Are you?”
“No.” He wasn’t. He dated women occasionally. And he slept with women occasionally. But he was very discriminating. And he never led them on.
She moved to the middle of the living room, checking out the rest of the suite. “Got a girlfriend?”
“Not at the moment.”
Her perfume left a trace in the air. It was nice. More than nice, actually. It wasn’t fruity, yet it wasn’t floral …
“Did she break up with you, or did you break up with her?”
Jack blinked. “Who?”
“Your last girlfriend.”
“It wasn’t a serious relationship.”
Kristy turned back and nodded. “Ahhh.”
“What’s with the ahhhs?”
Was she accusing him of something?
“I know your type. Love ‘em and leave ‘em.”
There was something in her eyes, not hurt exactly, but something. Had somebody left her? Was that why she was willing to settle for money instead of love?
Now he was curious, but he didn’t want to bring up the subject of her love life. Because that would invariably lead to his grandfather, and Jack wanted her to forget all about Cleveland for tonight.
“I can hardly love you and leave you in forty-eight hours, can I?” he said instead.
“Forty-eight?”
Oops. “Twenty-four,” Jack corrected himself. “I meant twenty-four.”
“You scared me there for a minute.”
He gave her his most congenial smile. “Wouldn’t want to do that.” Then he nodded to the glass balcony door and the view beyond. “How about a swim?”
She turned to follow his gaze.
He crossed the room to open the doors, implicitly bidding her to follow him onto the wide veranda. “Take a look down there.”
She joined him to lean on the rail, between a pair of twin loungers at one end of the veranda and an umbrella table set up for four at the other.
He heard her suck in a breath as she gazed at the Mediterranean-style courtyard. The lighted pool was embraced by pillared fountains, terra-cotta tiles, tropical trees and sculpted shrubbery. It was peaceful and deserted this time of night, and the patterned pool bottom wavered through the mist rising from the heated water.
“It’s almost midnight,” Kristy whispered. “Are we allowed?”
He shrugged. “We’re high-rollers in a complimentary suite. You think they’ll stop us from taking a swim?”
“My swimsuit’s still in the plane.”
Had the woman never heard of shopping? Had she never heard of butler service? As if a tiny thing like a swimsuit would stop them. There was a phone on the table between the two loungers, so Jack picked it up and pressed zero.
The voice on the other end was prompt. “Yes, Mr. Osland?”
“Any chance we can get a couple of swimsuits up here?”
“Of course. I’ll have the butler bring up a selection right away. The sizes?”
Jack covered the mouthpiece. “Size?” he asked Kristy.
Her eyes went a little wide. “Uh, four.”
He nodded. “Women’s four and men’s thirty-two.”
“Thank you, sir. Someone will be right up.”
Jack replaced the receiver.
Kristy glanced at the phone. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” said Jack. Then he couldn’t resist giving her an impish grin. “I’m hoping you get a bikini.”
She eyed him up and down, a frown on her face that made him self-conscious. “I guess it’s not quite the same for women.”
“What do you mean?” Was it an insult?
She gave him an exaggerated shudder. “I mean, the thought of any man in Spandex.”
He took a couple of steps toward her. “Did I mention I work out?”
“I’m sure you’re perfectly gorgeous under that suit.” Then she stilled as her own words obviously registered.
He was torn between making a joke and making a move. Deep down, he knew he shouldn’t do either.
Still, he was suddenly aware of the way her eyes sparkled in the moonlight and her hair framed her face in gentle waves. That elusive perfume wafted through his senses once more. And everything inside him screamed at him to kiss her. Under normal circumstances, he’d definitely take the expression on her face as an invitation.
But these were not normal circumstances. He was on a mission. And he didn’t dare scare her off.
He settled for brushing a wisp of her hair from her face. Her cheek was soft under his fingertips. Her lashes fluttered at the contact, and it was more than he could do to ignore the signal.
He subconsciously leaned forward, and she tipped her head to one side.
The knock on the door saved him.
Jack forced himself to pull away, his voice husky with burgeoning desire. “Our suits are here,” he stated unnecessarily.
Kristy drew in a breath, and gave her head a quick shake. “Right.”
He squeezed her hand gently, in silent acknowledgment of what they both knew had almost happened. Then he stepped into the suite and answered the door.
The butler handed him three women’s and three men’s suits on silk padded hangers. Jack tipped the man and sent him on his way.
Then he turned to find Kristy back inside the suite.
“Pick a bedroom,” he invited, refusing to let himself look too deeply into her eyes as he handed her the women’s suits.
She motioned to the closest door, the smaller of the two rooms. Again, Jack was surprised when her actions didn’t fit his expectations. Either their almost-kiss had truly rattled her, or she didn’t care about sleeping in the plush, four-poster bed in the main bedroom.
Either case was intriguing.
IN THE COOL evening air, the pool water was chilly against Kristy’s legs. A sultry breeze blew over her aqua, one-piece suit as she gradually made her way down the sloping stairs.
Jack on the other hand, executed a neat dive into the deep end, his shimmering form moving swiftly underwater toward her. He broke the surface, coming to his feet and raking back his dark hair with spread fingers.
“Feels good,” he announced, looking slick and sexy in the diffuse garden lights.
“Feels cold,” she responded, especially in comparison to the heat building inside her at she stared at his broad, bare chest.
He took a couple of steps forward. “Need help getting in?”
