Gambler's Woman

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “If anyone asks, I’ll tell him I’ve had a good year in the stock market,” she said uneasily. This wasn’t a subject she wanted to pursue.

  “Why not tell the truth?” Jordan persisted coolly, his eyes studying her with an intensity that made her even more nervous.

  “That would be impossible,” she stated flatly. “The truth would cost me my job.”

  “You’re kidding! Cost you your job?”

  “Ummm. That company I work for, Yeoman Research? It prides itself on having several government contracts as well as some other business-sensitive research arrangements. People who gamble as much as I’ve been doing lately are considered something of an employment risk in situations like that, to say the least. We’re seen as being particularly vulnerable to blackmail and pressure in order to pay off gambling debts. We might very well resort to selling company secrets, or worse, government ones. If the management at Yeoman Research knew I was spending so much of my time in Las Vegas lately, I would undoubtedly be quietly asked to leave or, at the minimum, transferred to a less sensitive position on the staff. That would be almost as bad from my point of view.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m in line for promotion. With luck, I will be named the new manager of my department next month,” Alyssa told him, unable to hide her satisfaction at the thought. “I’ve worked hard, and I deserve the slot. I like the statistical research and analysis I do.”

  “Better than you like winning at the card tables?”

  “I happen to enjoy both,” she said very steadily, “and I don’t see why I can’t have both.” If I’m very careful, she amended silently.

  “That’s known as having your cake and eating it, too, and as I recall, it doesn’t always work,” Jordan pointed out politely.

  “I’m going to make it work.” Alyssa tossed his wallet back at him. Jordan caught it almost absently. Excellent eye-hand coordination, she decided with a sigh. Gained after years of experience at his profession, no doubt. “Now, if we’ve quite finished with the interrogation this morning, I’d like to get dressed and go back to my hotel room.” Might as well try to salvage what dignity there was left in this situation, she told herself forcefully. It would have been easier if he weren’t lying naked at the end of the round bed.

  “You can’t leave yet,” Jordan informed her gently.

  “Why not?” Alyssa lifted her chin challengingly.

  “You haven’t seen how the shower works in that tacky bathroom.” Quite suddenly, he was grinning again. The engaging, piratical grin that she’d only caught flashes of last night. To her shock, Alyssa realized she was coming to like that grin very, very much.

  “I was getting the impression you were a little annoyed with me this morning,” she said carefully. “I thought it might be best to be on my way.”

  The golden eyes gleamed. “I think I was more annoyed with myself than I was with you,” he admitted. “I woke up with too many questions and too many worries. Bound to make a man grouchy in the morning. But don’t get the idea that I’m going to throw you out. That’s the last thing I plan to do!”

  Alyssa wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or more wary than ever. She sat up slowly, holding the sheet in place at her throat and drawing up her knees in front of her. “Were you really worried when you woke up?”

  “Is it so strange that I’d at least like to know the last name of the woman with whom I spent the night?” he countered, eyeing her laconically.

  Alyssa felt the flush rise to her cheekbones, but she kept her gaze very steady. “I was under the impression that here in Vegas such details weren’t considered very important. Last night, you didn’t seem overly concerned.”

  “Last night, I told myself nothing else mattered except getting you into bed and staking a claim on you,” he retorted with a bluntness that deepened the red in her cheeks. “I wanted you from the first instant I saw you winning so coolly and deliberately. I decided you had probably been made just for me. A soul mate and lover.”

  “Jordan…”

  “But getting you into bed didn’t solve all the problems. As thoroughly satisfying as the experience was, it seems to have left me very, very hungry for more answers. It also left me exceedingly nervous. If there’s one thing I can’t afford to be in my profession, it’s nervous. Plays havoc with my concentration.”

  “I see,” she grumbled aloofly.

  Without any warning, he launched himself toward her, pushing her back down into the bedclothes and pinning her beneath him. “I doubt that you do see, little lady gambler. Do you have any idea what it does to a man to wake up wondering if he’s playing the part of the other man? If there’s a husband waiting patiently in the wings back in Ventura?”

  Violently aware of the warmth of his body through the sheet, Alyssa stared up at him wonderingly, beginning to lose herself in the depths of those golden eyes, just as she had last night. “Why was it so important that you find out if I’m married?” she dared, waiting breathlessly for his answer.

  “Because I don’t want to be the other man. I want to be the only man in your life now that I’ve found you.” Jordan emphasized the uncompromising word with a quick, hard kiss as if he were branding her. “Having gone through your wallet, I’m reasonably certain there’s no husband hanging about, though.”

  “And if there had been?”

  “Professional gamblers don’t worry about nonexistent probabilities,” he declared softly. “There are always enough of the real kind around. Which brings us to the next item on the list. There’s no husband back in Ventura, but is there anyone else who thinks he has a claim on you?”

  “So many questions,” she whispered uncomprehendingly. Men who casually picked up lone women and seduced them were reputed to be just as casual about walking away from them the next morning. Jordan was behaving like a possessive lover who intended to stick around.

  “You have the easy part. All you have to do is answer the questions.”

  “Asking them is the hard part?”

  “Not knowing all the answers is the hard part,” he corrected smoothly. “Don’t keep me in suspense, honey. Is there anyone waiting for you back in Ventura? Not that I can imagine any man in his right mind allowing you to traipse off to Vegas by yourself!”

  “I’m thirty years old. I stopped asking other people’s permission to do things a long time ago!”

  “I’ll bet you did.” He grinned suddenly. “A man would have his work cut out for him training you to start asking again, wouldn’t he?”

  “Damn right,” she muttered, hovering between excitement and annoyance. She had never met a man like Jordan Kyle, and the magic of last night was persisting. She couldn’t seem to shake his spell. “Would you mind if we continued this interrogation after breakfast? I’m hungry.”

  “I’ll feed you after you answer my question,” he growled softly.

  “Jordan,” she sighed, “I can’t see that any of your questions matter very much. We’ve only known each other a few hours, and after this weekend, we’ll never see each other again.” Alyssa found herself defensively wanting to be the first to put the truth into words. “But since I’m hungry and since you’re a lot heavier than I am, I will tell you that at the moment my social life is very casual, to say the least. No, there is no one who will wonder where I am this weekend and worry about it.”

  He studied her carefully for several seconds and then nodded once in satisfaction. “Okay, that much is settled. I guess we can get ready to go have breakfast. Come and see the tacky shower.”

  He started to lever himself up off her body, and without pausing to think about it, Alyssa put out a hand and touched his bare shoulder. He turned back to her at once. “What about you?” she heard herself ask, her voice sounding strained. Suddenly, it was she who had to have some answers.

  Jordan tilted his head thoughtfully, a smile appearing on his mouth. “I was beginning to think you didn’t care enough yet to inquire. No, sweetheart, there’s no one else. P
rofessional gamblers seldom acquire much in the way of family or permanent women.”

  She caught her breath. “Well, that’s honest enough, at least.” This really was going to turn out to be a one-weekend affair. But, then, she’d realized that from the beginning, hadn’t she? Summoning up an incredible amount of bravado, she managed a smile. “If you’re sure you’re not going to abscond with my winnings from last night, I suppose you might as well let me at the tacky bathroom.”

  He grinned, looking suddenly like a man who is quite happy and somewhat surprised to find himself in that state. Alyssa wondered how much happiness and contentment was generally allotted to professional gamblers. As a fantasy, the gambling world was exciting and intriguing, fascinating to drop in on now and then. But as a way of life?

  “That must have been something of a shock, waking up to find me going through your wallet.” He ducked his head and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I’m sorry, honey. To make up for it, I’ll do more than let you at the tacky bathroom. I’ll help you take your shower.”

  “Thanks! Talk about tacky!”

  But it was too late to complain. He had already whipped back the gold sheet and reached down to lift her into his arms. Alyssa yelped in protest, but he ignored her, striding across the red carpet to the red and gold bathroom, which was another hall of mirrors. Alyssa had had a brief glimpse last night of the small figures of naked women from which the water flowed in the sink. She had also noted the oversized shower, which had obviously been designed for two people and came complete with seats. She had the distinct impression that turning Jordan loose in the exotic room in his present mood was just asking for trouble.

  She was right. It was another hour before they went down to breakfast.

  “I’d have ordered room service, but it tends to be rather slow in these huge hotels,” Jordan explained cheerfully as they finally sat down to eat in the twenty-four-hour coffee shop. “And I’m starving.”

  “I’d have thought they would have things like room service down to a fine art,” Alyssa observed, sipping gratefully at a cup of tea.

  “That’s just it; they do have it down to an art here in Vegas.” Jordan chuckled, glancing at his menu. “They’re well aware of the fact that slow room service drives people downstairs to get something to eat or drink.”

  “Ah, I get it. And once downstairs, they have to walk through the casino to get to a restaurant or a bar.”

  “Exactly. You can’t get anywhere in this hotel or any of the other big ones without going through the casino. A fine art.”

  Even at this early hour, the tinkle of slot machines out on the gambling floor was audible. Some of the card tables were closed, but several were in use, and a dedicated crowd of gamblers had obviously made an early start on the day. Or perhaps they had never gone to bed last night, Alyssa decided. With a wry smile, she glanced down at the black and silver dress she’d been forced to put on this morning.

  “I’ve got to get back to my hotel. I look like one of those seedy gamblers who never made it home last night,” she groaned.

  Casual in a cotton button-down-collar shirt done in a conservative pin stripe and a pair of khaki chinos, Jordan didn’t look at all seedy, she had decided earlier as she covertly watched him dress. His dark hair was clean and damp from the shower, and there was an easy, relaxed air about him this morning that belied his profession. Sitting across from him in her evening gown, Alyssa felt very much a lady of the night who hadn’t made it back to her own bed. Which was, she reminded herself grimly, exactly the case.

  “Stop worrying about how you look,” Jordan advised dryly. “No one will even notice here.”

  But he caught a cab for them back to her hotel after breakfast, anyway, because, he said, he wanted her to get a swim suit. “I thought we could spend the afternoon by the pool,” he explained as they rode the elevator up to her room. “Have to gather our energy so we can go to work tonight. I figure with both of us on the job, you’ll have your thousand bucks by around midnight, and then we can knock off and take in one of the big lounge shows.”

  Alyssa froze, her key in the lock of the door. “What do you mean, ‘both of us on the job’? Jordan, I don’t need your help in getting the money for my Porsche.” Somehow she wanted to make that very clear.

  His smile faded as he took in the stubborn expression in her eyes. “I know you don’t need my help, but it will speed things up considerably if you let me give you a hand.”

  It was true, of course. Alyssa made it a rule to keep all of her wins on a small scale in order to avoid suspicion. Working alone, it would take most of that night and Sunday to gather the thousand dollars. With Jordan’s help, it could be done in a much shorter time. But the thought of taking money from him after spending the weekend in his bed went against her grain.

  “No, Jordan. Please. I don’t want any help.” She twisted the key violently in the lock and pushed at the door, not looking at him.

  He caught her shoulder as she stepped into the room, spinning her around to face him as the door clicked shut behind them. His tawny eyes blazed down at her, all trace of his easy, relaxed mood gone. The infinitely skilled fingers proved as knowledgeable in the art of subtle punishment as they were in dealing cards or giving pleasure. He didn’t quite hurt her, but Alyssa found herself not daring to move. It crossed her mind that Jordan Kyle would be a very dangerous man under certain circumstances.

  “Alyssa, I’m not trying to pay you for this weekend,” he said bluntly.

  She drew in a breath. “That’s what it would seem like you were doing,” she said carefully.

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it?”

  “You know damn well it is!” he retorted.

  “I hardly know you at all, Jordan. That’s just the point,” Alyssa said with unnatural calm. “And I’d rather not take money from you. Let me rephrase that. I won’t take money from you. Do I make myself very clear?”

  The fingers on her bare shoulder dug a little deeper, and the hard lines of his face seemed to have been etched in steel. “Oh, yes. You make yourself very clear. It’s quite clear that you’re being stubborn, illogical and overly sensitive, but if you insist on behaving like that—”

  “I do.”

  “Then I’ll let you get away with it. For a while.” He freed her shoulder with an obvious effort at self-control and glanced around the hotel room. “Now why don’t you change your clothes so that we can stop wasting the day.”

  Hiding a sigh of relief, Alyssa obeyed. She felt as if she’d had a rather narrow escape, although she wasn’t precisely sure what she had avoided.

  Her weekend Las Vegas wardrobe included a sleek, strapless maillot diagonally striped in black and white and piped at the upper edge in crimson. Over it, she wore an overscaled white cotton cover-up that she had bought a week earlier. Styled with push-up sleeves and a red sash, it fell to her knees and doubled as a casual dress. When she reappeared from the bathroom, Jordan’s eyes flickered with approval, and he inclined his head in a gravely polite manner.

  “Does anyone back in Venture know the real you?” he asked whimsically.

  “No one knows how I’ve been spending my weekends lately, if that’s what you mean,” she admitted. And what a disaster it would be if anyone did!

  “Not exactly, but we’ll let it pass for now. Come on, my sweet business associate. Let’s go find a pool and prepare ourselves for a hard night’s work.”

  That evening, after dinner, when Alyssa walked into the first casino on Jordan’s arm, she did so with a whole new appreciation for the fantasy. It was infinitely more enjoyable sharing it with a man who truly belonged to this world, she decided.

  “Do you ever feel like a marauding shark swimming through a casino and taking a bite here and there?” Alyssa demanded laughingly as she joined Jordan after he’d walked out of a poker game with a discreet pile of chips.

  He looked down at her and smiled faintly. “Sometimes. How are you doing?” />
  “Okay. I’m going to play a little more blackjack and then quit for the evening.”

  “I’ve made enough tonight to put you over the top of your goal,” he reminded her quietly.

  “I’m on schedule,” she retorted firmly.

  “All right. Have it your way. I don’t want you lying in my arms tonight thinking I’ve somehow paid you to be there!” Jordan muttered half violently.

  She slid a slanting glance up at his set face and decided not to say anything further on the subject. She had won the small battle, and that was enough for now.

  He watched her play with silent approval, and Alyssa found herself enjoying the admiration of a peer. It was a novel experience, and when she picked up her chips and walked away from the blackjack table, she was feeing deliciously contented.

  They caught the midnight cabaret in the show room of Jordan’s hotel, and afterward he led her into a nearby lounge for a nightcap. The evening had been perfect as far as Alyssa was concerned, and he must have seen the pleasure in her eyes.

  “To the only woman I’ve ever met with whom I can truly discuss my work,” he saluted her, smiling as he took a sip of the brandy he had ordered for both of them. Then he set down the snifter and asked evenly, “You’ll be coming back to Vegas next weekend, of course?”

  A strange tension gripped her as Alyssa faced him across the small table. She hadn’t been expecting the question. Her mind had been on the present, just as it had been the night before. For a woman who made a living using statistics to predict future events, she had been doing a remarkably good job of ignoring her own future.

  “Why do you say, of course?” she countered as lightly as possible.

  “Because at the conservative rate you’re working, you’ve got quite a way to go before you have the down payment on that red Porsche. Vegas is the closest source of easy money for you, so I assumed you’d be coming here rather regularly for a while. Right?” He leaned back casually in his chair, his eyes never leaving her face. She felt as if she were a deck of cards he had shuffled and was now about to play with. It was not a comfortable sensation.