by Helen Conrad
“No kidding.”
He made a face.
“Right out there under the burning sun?”
“Of course. Don’t you take advantage of the climate?”
“What climate?” Cody looked around the room. “You mean the air-conditioning?” He grinned at her. “The thing is, neon becomes me. Sunshine makes me break out.”
She glanced curiously at his dark skin and he followed her gaze. “I come by this shade honestly,” he said, holding up his arm and pulling back the sleeve. The color was creamy bronze. “My mother’s a Paiute.”
She’d been pretty sure it was something like that. “Really?”
He nodded, the ghost of a smile hovering on his lips. “You’d like her, I think. She’s an artist, lives in Arizona these days. In an art colony in Sedona.”
She looked at his hands, remembering how she’d thought he had the hands of an artist. “Did you inherit any of her talent?” she asked.
He stretched out his fingers and looked at them, too. “My talent lies solely in the cards,” he said softly.
Kelly frowned, hating the way he kept rubbing her nose in it. It wouldn’t take much for her to forget what he did for a living, if he would only give her a chance.
“How does your mother like having a gambler for a son?” she asked, her annoyance making her blunt. The minute the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them.
He stared at her, and for once his gaze was cold as tinted glass. But he turned away without saying anything and she closed her eyes, wishing to heaven she’d kept her mouth shut. He didn’t deserve scorn. He was what he was, and it was certainly none of her business.
“I met Ivy Blake,” she said quickly, to make up for her rudeness. “She told me what you’ve done for her and her husband.”
Cody frowned and twisted restlessly in his chair, avoiding her gaze. “I haven’t done anything,” he muttered. “Eat your dinner. It’s getting cold.”
She tried to do that, but the lump in her throat was making it impossible. She’d hurt him for no reason. She hated herself for that. He was being nothing but nice to her. He couldn’t help it if he threatened her peace of mind.
“Well, well.” A booming male voice broke into her thoughts. She turned to find a tall, handsome, heavily built man with silver at the temples standing at their table. “What is this? Wasn’t there room in any of my three restaurants?”
Cody’s face broke into a smile and he rose from his seat, throwing down his napkin. “It’s just like you’ve always told me, Monty,” he said. “Special ladies deserve special treatment.” He gestured toward Kelly. “Kelly Carrington, may I present Monty Cross, owner and manager of the Marquis Casino?”
So this was the notorious man Sadie was having so much trouble with. Kelly looked him over with interest.
“Nice to meet you,” she murmured. “You have a beautiful place here.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear.” He bent and kissed her hand with a touch of old-world gallantry, murmured a few more pleasantries and sauntered off. Kelly watched him walk through his casino, then turned to Cody.
“He’s your boss?”
Cody nodded. “More than my boss, really. My mentor as well. He saw me play poker in a tournament years ago and invited me to come play in his club. In some ways he’s been like a father to me ever since.”
She wanted to ask about his real father, but after the gaffe she’d made about his mother, she didn’t dare bring up the subject. “You like working here, don’t you?” she asked instead.
He shrugged. “It’s my life.” There was a warning in both tone and glance. Still, the smile was back in Cody’s eyes, and for that she was grateful.
“More champagne?” he asked, holding up the bottle filled with ginger ale.
She laughed and held out her glass. Seeing him smile made her feel warm all over. His coldness only a moment before had been devastating. Kelly knew she was getting carried away, but couldn’t help herself. She did care how he felt. She wanted him happy—as happy as he was making her.
Unwillingly, her mind went back to how it had been with Tim. He’d raced jet boats for a living, and he’d raced through life, too. Tim would have loved this, sitting at the central table, catching the attention of the entire casino at one time or another. He would have played to the crowd, smiling and tossing out jokes, hardly remembering that she was at his side.
That was one thing she had to say for Cody. His attention was centered squarely on her and nowhere else. It felt nice.
“Would you like to dance?”
She looked up at him, startled. “Dance? Here?”
“Why not? There’s music playing.”
That was true. The combo was playing slow, romantic tunes from decades past.
“But... Nobody’s dancing.”
“We are.” He pulled her to her feet. “Come on.”
She rose awkwardly, embarrassed. The sound of voices, distant slot machines and clinking glasses seemed stronger than the music. She held herself far from Cody, her hand stuck formally in his, her eyes glued to the buttons on his shirt so that she wouldn’t look out and see everyone watching them. Kelly was determined to get through the next few moments without letting Cody know how uncomfortable she felt.
But in only a matter of seconds she’d forgotten they were the only ones on the floor, that she was dressed in a simple cotton sundress and sandals or that there was anyone watching them. Cody’s arm around her was sure and steady and the way he held her, she just naturally found herself pressed in against his shoulder, her cheek brushing the fabric of his suit coat, her hand flattened against the crispness of his shirt.
She was stiff at first. But her senses soon filled with him— the clean, soapy scent, the muscular grace of his body that was so evident when her thigh brushed his, the thudding of his heart beneath her hand, the warmth that made her light-headed.
“This okay?” he asked gruffly.
Something was blocking her throat and she could only nod. His breath ruffled her hair. The seductive totality of his maleness swept over her, turning her weak and breathless, as though she’d taken a large shot of brandy and it had gone straight to her head.
His arms held her even closer. The music was a steady beat, keeping her moving. Closing her eyes, she let herself melt against him. She could sail away on a sweet dream where there were no responsibilities, no rights and wrongs, only Kelly and Cody and the music and their two bodies pressed so closely—
“Kelly.” His voice was a whisper, a breeze against her ear. She had to struggle to open her eyes and look up at him. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. They’d danced into the shadows along an unused hallway where they could still hear the music, but the interested spectators were gone.
“Kelly,” he repeated, his voice low, husky. She raised her lips to his, knowing without words that was what he wanted, what she wanted.
His kiss was slow and tender. She felt the care and caution, and it made her bolder. Reaching up, she slid her arms around his neck, arching her body into his, feeling herself mold her soft curves against his hard edges.
“Cody,” she murmured, urging him on and not even sure just what she was doing. She wasn’t thinking, only feeling, and what she felt had caught her up in a glorious cloud of sensation such as she’d never experienced.
His lips touched her cheek, her temple, her neck, and she closed her eyes and let herself tingle until her own mouth ached to feel his again. Then she pulled him to her, her lips parted and hungry.
He filled her with a searing heat. She wanted him to press against her breasts, her hips. She needed to merge with him, to have it all, and she moaned against his lips, softly demanding, her body pulsing in temptation, her hands moving in rhythmic, restless urgency, forgetting everything but the man in her arms and the sweet, hot need for him.
“Kelly,” he murmured again, but he was pulling away. His hands cradled her face. “Where shall we go?” he whispered. “Where will you
be most comfortable?”
She blinked up at him, like a sleeper suddenly propelled into a brightly lit room. “Home?”
That didn’t actually answer his question, but he smiled and nodded, his hand caressing her hair. “I’ll take you home,” he agreed. “Come on.”
He led her back to the table. Her legs were wobbly. Her head cleared, but it didn’t change anything. When she looked at him, she felt a burst of excitement in her chest. Maybe it was because she’d been alone so long, or maybe it was because he was special. She wasn’t sure. Maybe it was both. But she wanted to take him home. And she didn’t remember ever feeling that way about a man before, not even with Tim.
Tim. His face swam before her eyes and she winced, pushing the memories away. She didn’t want to think about him. Not now.
“Let me go into the powder room and comb my hair,” she told Cody just before they reached their table.
He caught hold of her, pulling her up against him, and dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head.
“Just don’t be long,” he warned her. “I feel cold when I’m not touching you.”
Kelly laughed as though he were joking, but the glow of his words stayed with her and she entered the ladies’ room with a smile on her face. Looking in the mirror, she hardly recognized herself. Her eyes were shining. She reached up and touched the lips that had so recently been kissing his.
A short chuckle from behind made her whirl. She had thought she was alone, but Sugar Delfinio was emerging from the anteroom. Her grin was wide and sympathetic. “You watch out, honey.” She gave a quick, hard hug. “That Cody, he knows how to treat a lady. But he gets a lot of practice. If you get my drift. So have your fun. But don’t look to get apples when what you planted was passion fruit seeds. You know what I mean?” Waving gaily, she sailed out the door.
Kelly’s smile faded. She looked back into the mirror. “I know that,” she whispered reassuringly to the image she saw there. “It doesn’t matter.”
And it didn’t matter yet, at the same time, it did. The reservations she’d had about him all along came flooding back. He was from a world she didn’t want to have anything to do with. He had a cynical, pragmatic view of life that she abhorred.
But if he was poison, why was she so tempted to drink?
“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered again. But this time she couldn’t muster a smile.
Chapter Five
Cody sank into the plush red velvet chair and leaned back, watching Kelly walk across the casino floor. Her golden hair shone as it bounced around her shoulders. He liked that, but as she disappeared around the corner, his smile faded and a frown replaced it. There was something wrong in the pit of his stomach.
He should have been feeling that familiar charge of victory right now, that cocky, self-satisfied surge that put him on top of the world. The thrill of the hunt, followed by the triumph. He’d set out to win Kelly Carrington, and to all intents and purposes he’d done just that. A general couldn’t have planned a more overwhelming campaign. She’d put up a fight, but he’d torn down her defenses.
So why wasn’t he elated? Why the uneasy feeling? He reached automatically into his pocket for a cigarette, then remembered he’d quit smoking over a year before. He grinned wryly. “Just a nervous habit,” he muttered to himself, then winced. Nervous? Cody Marin?
But he was, damn it. He was nervous. He’d never been with a woman quite like Kelly before. He looked down, suddenly realizing he was drumming his fingers on the white tablecloth. Yeah, he was nervous all right. Like a kid. Like the first time.
“Mr. Marin?” Pierre stood nearby, bent slightly forward, not wanting to intrude.
Cody looked up. “Oh. Yes, we’re leaving in just a moment. You may clear everything then.”
Pierre bowed his acquiescence and left. Cody stared into the shadows at the edge of the room, wishing he still smoked. He needed something to do with his hands. Looking down at them, he could still feel how soft her skin had been. Like silk under the flame of a candle. His body ached and he shifted in his chair. That was when he noticed someone coming across the casino floor toward him.
The man was close to forty, tall, thin and handsome, his black hair styled carefully against his head, his pencil-thin moustache giving him a slightly cruel air. He wore expensive clothes and moved as though he were showing them off.
“Hello, Marin,” he said, coming to a stop a few feet away from Cody. His eyes were glittering slits. There was a sense of calculated slyness about him.
“Jasper.” Cody nodded in recognition, but didn’t smile. Every muscle in him had tensed at the sight of the man and though outwardly he still looked calm and relaxed, inside he was wary.
Jasper gestured toward the tables. “Been keeping my eye on some high rollers,” he said smoothly, his voice as slick as his hair. “Couldn’t help but notice you over here.”
Cody waited.
“You look like you’ve been having a good time.” He stepped closer, grinning. “Hey!” Reaching out, he tapped Cody on the shoulder as though they were old buddies. “That’s one sweet-looking little lady you’ve got here tonight, Cody, my friend,” he said with false heartiness. “Are you going to introduce me to her, or is she a part of your private collection?”
Cody turned slowly so that he could look Jasper directly in the face. His own eyes were hard, and he spoke his next words with clear, careful precision. “I’m afraid she wouldn’t have any interest in you, Jasper. She’s got brains as well as beauty.”
Jasper’s gray eyes flashed at that, but the smile lingered. “Does she?” He laughed, pretending it was all a tease. “Then what’s she doing with a loser like you? You know you’ll only get her into trouble.” He started to laugh again, but Cody was beginning to rise from his chair. Jasper’s laugh stopped abruptly as he began to back away.
“Only joking, my friend,” he called, looking back as he reached the closest poker table. “You know how I feel about you.” With one last jaunty grin, he melted into the crowd.
Cody stood looking after the man, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Fighting wasn’t usually his style, but he’d had a quick, sharp urge to land a punch on Jasper’s nasty face.
Squaring his shoulders, he landed the punch in the palm of his left hand instead, muttering an oath. The trouble was, the little weasel had a damn good point.
“What’s the matter?”
Kelly was back. Cody turned and looked down at her and his tension drained away.
“Nothing.”
She was like a sunbeam breaking through on a cloudy day. Suddenly the elaborate casino seemed faded and worn—tacky and soiled. His slow smile enveloped her and he held out his arm.
“Shall we go?”
She nodded, suppressing the doubts that had assailed her. When she looked into his handsome face, she felt breathless. There were a million reasons why she shouldn’t be leaving with him, but he would make that all right. He would do something to drive the reasons away. She didn’t know how he would do it. But he had to. She was going on blind faith.
Despite the closeness they’d shared when they were dancing, there was still a barrier between them. All the way home in Cody’s car, they both felt it.
“I’ll have one of the boys who work at valet parking take your van back for you,” Cody said as they drove along.
“Thank you,” she responded, glancing at his profile in the light of the oncoming traffic. She wanted to submerge all thought and ride on feeling again, but it was getting more difficult.
On impulse, she reached out and touched the sleeve of his suit coat. He glanced at her, surprised, his eyebrows raised in question, and she pulled her hand away again.
“What is it?” he asked, not understanding the need that had compelled her to touch him.
“Nothing, I... nothing.” She looked out the window at the passing neon signs. Maybe she was getting carried away. Her thoughts were so jumbled, she wasn’t sure where reality lay. If he would only ho
ld her again. She drew her arms in around herself as though she were cold, but he didn’t seem to notice.
He found her house without instructions, pulling into the driveway and turning off the engine. Glancing up, he studied the darkened windows. “Where’s your daughter?” he asked, not moving toward the door.
Kelly flattened her hands against the cotton fabric of her skirt. “Tammy is staying with a girlfriend for the night.”
“Oh.” He turned back to her, his eyes jet black in the night. “You going to invite me in?”
“Of course.”
She led him up the front steps to the door, fumbled for her key, and opened it. The light came on with blinding brilliance and they both blinked in it for a moment.
“Come on in.” She closed the door behind him, then looked around the room as though she weren’t quite sure what to do with him now that she’d got him home.
“Nice place,” he murmured. He turned slowly, taking it all in. The sofa with its floral print and bolsters, the overstuffed chairs, the coffee table with a large book of French Impressionist paintings sitting casually on it, the Seurat reproductions on the wall.
Everything screamed of a normalcy that set his teeth on edge. What was he doing here?
“Would you like something to drink?”
She sounded forlorn. He looked up quickly and smiled as reassuringly as he was able. “Sure,” he said. Whiskey, straight, he thought. “How about coffee?” he heard himself saying instead. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Oh no, no trouble at all.” She sounded relieved to have something to do. “I’ll be right back. Go ahead and sit down.”
She disappeared into the kitchen and he turned to look at the sofa, but he was too restless to sit just yet. He began to roam the room instead, looking at the books on the bookshelves, handling her knickknacks, then stopping short in front of an eight by ten photograph of a handsome, smiling man.
The face looked slightly familiar. Perhaps that was because he’d met Tammy, for surely this was Tammy’s father.