But Lisa did.
And as soon as all the eyes were focused back on the dealer and the rapid-fire flick of the cards, Lisa quietly slipped out of the room, unable to think about anything other than that kiss—and unable to understand why it felt like more than a role she was playing.
“Mr. McBride?” Carlos, a hotel staffer with a slight Caribbean accent called out across the breezeway.
Ryan stopped and turned around.
“Your fiancée is out by the pool.”
“My what?”
“Your fiancée,” Carlos repeated. “The one you introduced tonight in that interview with Emma Brown. The tour’s going to miss you, Lucky Charm. I don’t think anyone saw that coming.”
They’d probably all be shocked to know Ryan hadn’t seen it coming either. Sure, he knew he was retiring from the tour, but he had no idea why he’d introduced Lisa as his fiancée.
Or why he’d kissed her.
Or why he’d kissed her again. On the lips.
Or why—if he was honest with himself—he’d liked it.
In fact, if he knew the answers to those questions, he could probably use them as an explanation for his biggest loss in two years. He hadn’t lasted long after he got back to the table. It served as more confirmation that he’d made the right decision to retire. He’d lost his edge. Kissing women he didn’t know and folding early at a card table were two things he never did.
“Rod set her up in a cabana. Number thirty-six, I believe, sir.” Carlos gestured toward the far end of the pool. “He said he knew you’d want us to take good care of her, since it looked like she was upset. We tried to help.”
“Thanks, Carlos. I appreciate it.” Ryan turned away from the path leading to his condo. He didn’t know what Lisa Fleming had to be upset about. She’d scored an expensive dress, a Michelin-starred, multi-course dinner, and a kiss from the man named last year’s Most Eligible Bachelor in Las Vegas.
Maybe the wedding between Pops and her nana had been called off and she was mourning the loss of the McBride gravy train. Typical gold digger behavior.
Ryan was about halfway to the striped cabana near the corner of the pool when he stopped himself. What was he doing? He’d already bought her dinner and that dress, and he’d only known her a handful of hours.
Of course, in Vegas time, that was like an eternity.
He stood there, unable to turn back toward his penthouse, but unwilling to get any closer to cabana thirty-six. Ryan shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the still-heavy crowd milling about the poolside nightlife.
“Excuse me,” a voice said, sounding just above a whisper.
Ryan stepped closer to the edge of the sidewalk and looked at the woman trying to walk by. She looked down at her shoes, causing her face to be veiled by the night shadows, but there was no mistaking that short feathered skirt.
“Lisa?”
She rolled her eyes up slightly. “Oh,” she paused. The syllable came out as flat as a poker chip. “It’s you.”
There weren’t a lot of people in Las Vegas who spoke to Ryan McBride that bluntly. “What do you mean by that?”
“You tell me what you mean by kissing me in front of a live studio audience, and then you’ll get your answer.” She stood up straight and pressed her shoulders back. The realignment of her posture made all her lace-covered curves fall into their proper place.
Although it was a balmy mid-March night, Ryan felt certain she was only a few degrees away from making steam come out her ears. The flush on Lisa’s cheeks reminded him of a hot Nevada summer.
If he was perfectly honest with himself, when paired with that lacy little number she had on, everything about her was flaming hot. His own pulse flared a few notches as he stared her down.
“You tell me what you meant by not kissing back.”
“What?”
Ryan almost couldn’t believe he’d said that to her. But it had been a long time since he’d sat through such an ugly defeat at a poker table, and it seemed he was itching for some kind of confrontation to get the sting out of his system.
“You heard me. I thought you said you were a theatre teacher. Don’t you know about acting?”
“Who are you, Lee Strasberg?” Her tawny eyes locked on him as they took on a flaming ember that turned them to the color of a good sherry. “And a similar question could be asked of you. Don’t you know anything about gambling?”
He held up his right hand and let the moonlight wink off the diamonds crusting the edges of his latest Global Poker Challenge championship ring. “I know plenty about gambling, Doll.”
“Well then, let me put it in terms you’ll understand. You rolled the dice. And you lost. I don’t want to kiss you, you cocky jerk. I want to get my Nana on a plane and get her out of this city before she makes the biggest mistake of her life.” The fire sizzled in her eyes again. “And I’m not your doll, your lucky charm, or your fiancée.”
He’d been enjoying getting the excess adrenaline from tonight’s game out of his system so much that he almost retorted back without truly listening to what Lisa had said. He caught himself hard, like the jerk at the end of a bungee jump when the cord engages to stop the free fall.
“What did you say?”
Lisa spoke slowly, drawing out each syllable for emphasis. “I’m. Not. Your. Fiancée. Pretend or otherwise.”
“I know that. The first part—what did you say first?”
“I want to go home.” She broke into a song. He heard her mutter something about being home with armadillos in Amarillo...or something like that. He’d never heard the tune before.
Her voice was clear and self-assured. And although he had no idea why she was singing about an armadillo, he’d heard enough singers here in Las Vegas—megastars and lounge acts alike—to know that Lisa Fleming’s voice was special, classically-trained and true.
“You live with armadillos?”
“No. It’s a song called London Homesick Blues. It’s about a guy who misses Texas. I know how he feels. I don’t want to be here.”
Ryan felt all the tension and frustration in his body let down. First, his shoulders relaxed, then a wave took over his body, down to his toes. The only thing that didn’t let down was a keen awareness of Lisa Fleming’s fiery eyes and black lace-wrapped body.
“So why are you here?”
She took a deep breath. “Because I’m trying to save Nana from herself. I’m a teacher—you know that. Anyway, today was the last day before Spring Break. I live with Nana, taking care of her, and when I walked through the door of the house today, Nana informed me that we were going on a Spring Break trip to Vegas. As I pressed her on why, she tells me this story of meeting her long-lost love again on Facebook. All I wanted to do this week was work in my garden. But I think something’s wrong with Nana. This is so out of character for her. And if I don’t stop her...”
Lisa’s voice trailed off. She looked up at the stars shining in the clear Nevada night. A faint sparkle glinted in the corner of her eye. She blinked several times in rapid succession and the tear flicked away.
“So you didn’t know about this?” Ryan couldn’t believe that she might have been caught by surprise, just like he’d been when driving to the airport with Pops.
She shook her head. “Not a bit. I didn’t even know she knew the password for the laptop. She can barely figure out the remote to work the TV. You said earlier you’d just found out today too, right?”
“Yeah. I had no idea. I bought Pops a new computer last year. He told me he was playing solitaire on it. Clearly, he’s moved on to something a little less solitary.”
They stood in silence for a moment. Ryan tried to process what Lisa had said. “I assumed you had to know. I figured you and your grandmother were both in it together.”
Lisa pivoted on the toe of one high-heeled shoe. “You thought I was some kind of Vegas gold digger?”
He felt pretty confident that he could dispel the indignation in her voice by saying n
o. He could cloak it in the bland, plastic face he used when he was closing in on a pile of chips. The best poker sharks in the world rarely figured out what he was hiding. He felt pretty confident about being able to conceal his real thoughts from the theatre teacher.
But he didn’t want to lie to her.
He didn’t exactly know why, except that there’d been enough suspicion and mixed signals between them for one day. Now that he realized they were on the same side, he began to wonder if maybe they could work as a team to achieve their goals.
Then she could go home to the armadillos, and he could go home to whatever he was going to do after he’d cashed in his last chip.
“Yeah, I pretty much did. Why else would Pops be planning something like this without telling me? And why would his bride-to-be bring along a granddaughter, except to try and pick up the single grandson. The truth is, I’ve made a lot of money out here in Las Vegas. You wouldn’t be the first woman who’s tried to trap me.”
“Well, trust me, I’m not.” She looked around nervously. “I don’t even like thinking about it, but I’m worried about Nana. This isn’t like her. It’s like she has...”
“Alzheimer’s or something?” Ryan completed her sentence as though it were his own.
“Yes. Exactly. How did you know?” The breathless relief in her voice drove Ryan’s pulse up a few notches. He couldn’t believe how fast his mind started down a different track now that the money-grubbing path had officially been shut down. It was like all bets were off and he couldn’t stop himself from mentally exploring how he’d noticed her dress and the feel of the curve of her hip when he’d cupped his hand around it earlier.
And she may not have given anything to the kiss, but that didn’t stop Ryan from thinking about a do-over.
He cleared his throat. He wished he could clear his mind as easily.
“I’d been thinking the same thing about Pops.”
That wasn’t all he’d been thinking about. But he wasn’t about to tell her that, even if it took every last bit of professional skill to keep it to himself. He’d be honest with her about the gold digger thoughts.
But not these.
“Well, so what do we do?” Lisa shivered as a breeze blew across the sidewalk. Her slim arms flared with goose flesh.
“I’m not sure what we do about our two lovebirds right now.” Ryan took off his jacket and with a smooth motion, laid it over Lisa’s shoulders. “But I do know we’re going to get you inside and get you warm.”
“That’s okay. I should probably be getting back to Nana.”
Ryan smiled. “I wouldn’t if I were you. Pops texted me just a few minutes ago and told me they were listening to music clips to decide what they wanted to play at the ceremony.”
“It’s close to midnight. Nana’s never awake this late.”
“No one sleeps in Vegas, Lisa. Come on, let’s get you inside.”
No fewer than ten people stopped Ryan as they walked back into the hotel. Lisa couldn’t believe how everyone seemed to know him. Everyone wanted to talk to “Lucky Charm.” And most of them congratulated her, too.
Ryan handled them all deftly. He thanked them for their well-wishes and made practiced small talk as they walked the broad, gilded hallways of the Renaissance Grand.
During her time in New York, a few people recognized her from plays and would stop her on the streets to say something, but Lisa figured the total number of random admirers from her all of her acting days combined came in far fewer than the number of people who stopped Ryan McBride in the last ten minutes.
He was a rock star in this town.
And by being with him, she suddenly became one too. If she’d ever been lucky enough to walk a bonafide red carpet in her brief career as an actress, Lisa imagined it might have felt something like this—hot date and everything.
Lisa did a mental double-take. She needed to focus on the end goal—getting back home with Nana as soon as possible, and keeping her great-grandmother unmarried. Now that she knew she and Ryan felt similarly about their grandparents’ plans, Lisa thought it would be easier to achieve her goals. She had someone on her side.
But that was it.
Ryan McBride was just a man in a similar situation. He was also taciturn, impulsive—as evidenced by his little stunt with the TV reporter—and used to getting his own way. It didn’t matter if she found him attractive or not because the rest of those qualities added up to trouble in her book.
She tried to stay away from people who kept secrets or didn’t think through their actions. She’d seen enough of both during her time in New York. And as a teacher, she always tried to teach her students to act responsibly, and she tried to model that behavior for them.
Which was why she was in Las Vegas—trying to keep Nana from making a decision she clearly hadn’t thought through. Or maybe it was, as Lisa suspected, more that Nana couldn’t clearly think through the implications of such a complex decision any longer.
And to do what she’d set out to do, Lisa herself would have to keep thinking clearly.
Which meant no more daydreams about Mr. Ryan “Lucky Charm” McBride. Or his dark blue eyes. Or that slightly-more-than-five-o’-clock shadow that gave his face a magnetic edge.
“Lisa?”
He’d caught her staring. So much for that resolution to not notice or care.
“Hmm?” Maybe if she played it cool, he wouldn’t pick up on her train of thought.
Oh, who was she kidding? The man played poker for a living. He was trained to pick up on the signals of others and not give away anything in return.
“I thought we could just duck in here and get away from everyone.” He nodded at a black lacquered set of double doors. A large man in a black T-shirt tucked into black pants stood in front of the door handles.
Maybe he hadn’t noticed anything. “Sure. Lead the way.”
“Lucky Charm. Everyone’s talking about your big announcement.” The man at the door held one open for Lisa and Ryan. “You’re not moving away too, are you?”
Ryan put a hand lightly on the small of Lisa’s back, guiding her through the entry. She could feel the press of his fingertips and remembered back a few hours to when he’d pulled her close and kissed her twice.
“I don’t think so, Mathias. But I honestly don’t know. I haven’t made any plans yet. Just needed a change.”
Ryan talked quietly to a buxom bright redhead just inside the door. “Right this way, Lucky Charm.”
She led them around the perimeter of the club and to an area partitioned off on the left side. She pointed at a high-walled booth of quilted leather that had a great view of the two baby grand pianos on a polished stage.
“I’ll be right back with your usual, Lucky Charm. What about for your fiancée?”
Word traveled fast. They’d even heard in the clubs. “Um, I don’t know. Maybe a Cosmopolitan?”
The waitress adjusted her stick-straight waterfall of hair over her shoulder. “Sure thing. Be right back with your order.”
Lisa slid into the well-appointed booth and scooted halfway around. Ryan followed and sat about a foot away, close enough that no one would question the distance between him and his “fiancée,” but still far enough to give them both their personal space.
The low sounds of conversation in the nightclub buzzed all around them. Lisa didn’t know exactly where they were, but she was always comfortable at the sight of a piano on a stage.
They sat for a second, content to let the sounds of others’ conversation fill in the spaces around them. Finally, they both spoke at once.
“Go ahead,” Ryan said. A smile tugged at the edge of his lips and Lisa could see the gleam of bright white teeth in the glow of the low, red candle on the table in front of them.
Lisa laid her hands on the table in front of her and clasped them together. “You said you didn’t know what you were doing next. Is that true?”
Ryan nodded. “Yeah, it is. Sounds a little crazy, doesn’t it? Quitting
a job without having another.”
“I’d say yes, but I did something similar when I left New York, so I’m probably one of the few people who won’t question your plan.”
“Or lack thereof.” His smile blossomed into a full grin. “Last year, after I won the ring, it just didn’t do anything for me. I mean, it was this huge professional accomplishment, but I didn’t care. And I started to wonder why. Eventually, as I thought about it, I realized the challenge was gone.”
He looked away from Lisa and watched the flame over the candle shimmer.
“Why did you leave New York, Lisa?”
She let out a long sigh. “It’s hard to explain. I wasn’t like you—I’d gotten some decent roles in some smaller productions and a couple of parts on Broadway, even—including two pretty big understudy roles—you’d know the shows. But I hadn’t ‘made it.’ I wasn’t anywhere close. And somewhere along the way, the constant pursuit of success—whatever that was—got tiring. One day, I realized that getting a leading role on a big stage wasn’t going to make me somebody. I wasn’t going to be somebody unless I was invested in someone’s life. And New York is a lonely place for making real connections like that.”
The VIP hostess placed a short, slightly curved glass in front of Ryan. The two perfectly square ice cubes clinked as she sat the glass on the table. “Glenmorangie Quinta Ruban. Your favorite.” She sat a full bottle in front of the glass and opened it.
She turned to Lisa and took the Cosmopolitan off the tray and placed it delicately on the table. One solitary strip of corkscrew-shaped orange rind floated atop the pink liquid in the distinct, funnel-shaped glass. “And this is for you. Is there anything else I can bring you right now?”
“I don’t think so, Anya.” Ryan reached for the bottle, then poured a scant amount over the ice.
“I tended bar for a bit in New York to make ends meet, but I’m not sure I’ve heard of that particular scotch.”
“The Quinta Ruban is a limited edition. They keep it here for me. It’s aged traditionally, then transferred to Portuguese Madeira pipes. It has a very unique flavor—hints of chocolate and mint, along with some orange, in the finish.”
Lucky in Love Page 6