by Cherry Adair
Joshua cupped her cheek. "I admire the hell out of who you are, Jessica Adams." He dropped a light, yet somehow intense, kiss on her mouth, and then strolled into the bathroom.
Jessie flopped down on the bed and stared at the closed door.
* * * * *
The main floor of the casino was an opulent mix of gilt and mahogany, the very old with some modern concessions. It retained the same air of genteel elegance and lavish style it had when it was built in the early 1860s. Jessie was entranced. "It's not fair the locals aren't allowed in the casino." She was afraid to blink—she wanted to see everything. "They're missing a wonderful part of their heritage."
"A small price to pay, considering they don't pay any taxes in Monaco," Joshua said dryly.
"It's their heritage—" Jessie gazed around her "—not the money that matters."
"Tell that to the man trying to feed his family. Hardly anyone leaves a casino with more money in his pocket, Jess. They're doing the locals a favor."
"Cynic. I still don't think it's fair," she said without heat, distracted by the sights and sounds of the casino. Elegantly gowned women and handsome men wearing tuxedos strolled through the vast saloons, their voices an exotic blend of accents and pitch. Her eyes lit up as they wandered through a room with dozens of roulette tables.
"It's only the gaming rooms they're forbidden to enter, little Miss Bleeding Heart," Joshua said, amused. He toyed with the loose strands of her hair at her nape. "Everyone can come to the Grand Theater to see the ballet or opera." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. Her lids drifted closed and she whispered for him to stop. He tasted her knuckles and her skin flushed, but she didn't pull away.
Jessie felt the ripple in his thigh muscles as he brushed against her; she carefully moved away a few inches, brushing her palm up the back of her upswept hair feeling for those loose strands as his gaze remained fixed on her face. She had known she was playing with fire when she put on the dress, but now, as his X-ray eyes touched her naked breasts, she realized she hadn't meant to start a forest fire.
She closed her eyes briefly. If she gave in to this insatiable craving, they would be upstairs naked before she could say strip.
"Behave," she warned, then drew in a shaky breath.
He smiled, then tucked her arm through his. "You are a hard woman."
"Shh, I'm absorbing." The smell of wealth discreetly perfumed the air. The aroma of power and money mixed with the fragrance of the fresh flowers overflowing the priceless vases in lighted alcoves along the walls.
Jessie's gold heels sank into luxurious royal-blue-and-deep-black Axminster carpet. The murmur of refined voices wove between the dulcet notes of a small orchestra screened behind a fringe of luxurious potted palms nearly reaching the intricate gold plaster ceiling soaring above their heads.
Joshua's hand rested lightly on the small of her back as they strolled across the enormous casino, his caress absentminded. Jessie didn't think he realized how much easier it was for him to touch her in public now. The familiar contact in a crowded room meant more to Jessie than she'd ever thought possible.
"Now, why are you smiling as if you just ate a canary?" Joshua asked, leading her into the next room.
She looked up at him with sparkling eyes. "I'm happy."
He touched her face with his fingertips, as if he couldn't help himself. "This has all been here for more than a hundred years, Jess. We don't have to run."
"Someone might take my lucky seat." She slowed and looked about her as nonchalantly as she could.
"Find a table. I'll get you some chips."
She caught her lower lip in her teeth and looked up at him with a delicious mixture of terrified anticipation and unholy glee. "Not too many," she warned. "I just want to play at playing for an hour or so."
Joshua returned moments later and Jessie dropped the stack of chips into her purse, turning in a little pirouette as she perused the tables before picking the one she wanted.
"I've died and gone to heaven." She grinned, opening her small Chanel clutch and taking out a handful of black and gold chips. "Come and play with me."
Joshua leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear. "I wanted to play with you upstairs." He pulled out one of the elegant brocade chairs for her.
"Patience has its rewards," she whispered, setting her chips in neat piles on the green bias table. She could feel Joshua behind her as she concentrated on placing her bet.
Actually, she had no idea how to play roulette. She only placed bets on red or black and on the double zero. It was the adrenaline rush she relished as her chips were scraped off the table or returned to her.
With several more chips than she had started with, Jessie'd had enough. Joshua had stood behind her, his hand possessively on her shoulder and without comment for an hour.
"I'm starving." Jessie swung her legs off the high chair. Joshua laughed as he helped her scoop up her chips.
"You're so predictable." He aimed her toward the five-star restaurant with a view of the bay. "Always hungry. Come on. I'll feed you, and then you can bring me some luck."
After being seated, Jessie took a handful of chips, turning them around between her fingers. "You know, these are so pretty I think I'll just take them home and frame them so I can remember this fabulous trip."
Joshua almost choked on his wine. Jessie's eyebrows rose at his expression. "What?"
"Do you have any idea what those chips are worth, Jessie?" Joshua dabbed at the corner of his mouth with his napkin.
She shrugged. "I don't know. Five dollars?"
"Each chip is worth the equivalent of ten thousand dollars."
"What!" Jessie squeaked, her hand at her throat "You're kidding. There must be… oh my God, Joshua. There're at least thirty-five chips here. What happened to the dollar table?"
"That's Reno. This is the big time. The sheik sitting on your right was playing with hundred-thousand-dollar chips."
"Lord." Jessie stuffed the chips into her purse and laid it carefully in front of her on the table. "If I'd known that, I would never have played."
"You were enjoying yourself. What difference does it make how much the chips are worth? It's only money."
"What if I'd lost?" Jessie felt sick to her stomach. She closed her eyes before looking back at him. He was still smiling.
"It's only money, Jess."
"Yours, Joshua. Not mine. It would have taken me forever to pay you back if I'd lost."
"You didn't." His smile disappeared and a strange look came over his features. He handed her the enormous tasseled menu. "Decide what you want to eat and don't think about it."
Jessie hid behind the menu, her appetite gone. She'd had no idea. She felt so stupid. In such opulent surroundings with Joshua's casual wealth, she should have guessed they wouldn't have dollar chips, for heaven's sake!
She felt like a fraud. Sitting here on the patio of one of the most famous casinos in the world, wearing a designer original. Who did she think she was?
Just Jessie Adams, daughter of a prostitute from Bakersfield.
She'd done the unthinkable. She had complacently believed she wouldn't fall in love with him. She'd thought that it was impossible. That she'd been inoculated and would be immune. As if love were something she had control over!
I love him.
She mentally tested the words, tasting them bittersweet on her tongue.
Oh, my God. How could this have happened? It had been so insidious she hadn't even noticed.
It didn't matter how much she now wanted things to be different. There was no happy ending. She was welfare housing: he was penthouse. He might care for her, but he'd never fall in love with a woman like her in a million years. He'd pick someone from his own social circle.
Not only was she never going to have his baby—hell, no—she had neatly compounded her loss. On December 23 she'd leave without Joshua as well.
The sparkle went out of the evening.
She asked Joshua to order
for her. The entire menu was in French, and she didn't understand it anyway. He ordered their meal in his impeccable French before leaning forward and taking her hand. "What's the matter?" His voice was husky, his pale eyes intent as he scanned her face. She wondered what he was seeing there. "Jet lag getting to you at last?"
"I don't belong here, Joshua." Jessie's eyes felt scratchy, her mouth trembley. God, she hoped she wouldn't cry. Not now, not here, in front of Joshua and all these fancy people who belonged.
"You are the most beautiful woman here tonight, Jessie. Of course you belong." He picked up her hand, and Jessie realized too late she'd forgotten to put on the red nail polish she'd brought with her. Her nails were short and unpolished. She curled her fingers in his hand. Even her hands didn't belong. Her throat closed up. She was going to cry, damn it.
"Jessie, look at me."
She raised her eyes and looked at him through a shimmering veil of tears.
"What's this all about?" he asked gently, his thumb rubbing circles on her palm. She bit her lip helplessly. "The chips are no big deal—"
"I'm sorry." Her voice was muffled by the napkin she had pressed to her mouth. "I don't know what's wrong with me." She peered at him over the damask. "It must be jet lag." She glanced up just as the waiter brought their first course. "Saved by the food." She injected a cheerful note into her voice.
Determined not to spoil an otherwise marvelous evening, Jessie got a firm grip on her emotions and picked up her fork.
Jess was sure the Boeuf Alexandra she had just eaten must have been delicious. She liked artichokes, and the truffles were interesting, but she could barely taste them.
Damn it. She didn't want to be dwelling on the end when she still had weeks and weeks left to enjoy with him.
For a split second she reconsidered her decision to use birth control. It was darn inconvenient and maybe… no. She'd made that decision and wouldn't retract it.
She straightened her spine and tucked her arm through Joshua's as they left the restaurant "Where are we going now?"
"You sure you don't want to play roulette a little more?"
Jessie gave a mock shiver. "Way too rich for my blood. In fact, here." She handed him her small shell-shaped clutch. "Stick this in your pocket so I don't have to worry about it. I'll watch you play… whatever it was."
"Chemin de fer. See those tables over there set on the raised dais?" Joshua led Jessie across the chandelier-lit room. He talked to a gentleman standing guard at the entrance. The man gave Joshua a deferential bow and ushered them into the exclusive area. Chemin de fer was a complicated high-stakes card game, Joshua explained quietly to Jessie, much like baccarat. As he took his seat, Jessie refrained from asking what these chips were worth. She didn't want to know.
All the other seats were taken by spectators. This time it was Jessie who stood behind him.
She enjoyed the action. Even if she hadn't a clue what the players were doing or how the betting worked, she was engrossed in watching. At one point she slipped off her high-heel sandals. The carpet felt luxuriously soft under her stockinged feet.
A waiter brought her a drink which she left beside Joshua's on the table. Dinner settled uncomfortably in her stomach. She was thirsty but wanted water, not alcohol. She looked around for a waiter.
A wave of dizziness caused her knees to buckle. Saliva flooded her mouth. She swallowed convulsively as prickles of hot and cold washed over her skin. Her sandals slipped from her lax fingers to drop with a thud to the floor. Blindly she felt for the back of Joshua's velvet-covered seat. "I n-need to sit dow—" The lights dimmed, and then went out completely.
"Jessie?" She heard alarm in Joshua's voice, which came from far, far away… Something cool and damp moved gently over her face. "Open your eyes, sweet love."
Not Joshua. He had never called her love in his life and he'd never sounded that panicky. Jessie drifted.
"Jessie, open your eyes. Now." How typically Joshua to order her conscious.
His lips. Joshua's lips. He kissed her hand. His fingers felt safe and hard around hers. Jessie's eyelashes fluttered as she managed to drag her eyes open. Joshua was kneeling beside her where she lay on a sofa, his eyes narrowed on her face. "What the hell happened?" he demanded as soon as her eyes opened.
His mouth was white bracketed, his hair disheveled as though he'd run his fingers through the dark strands. There was even a pleat of worry between his aristocratic brows. His grip on her hand tightened as she stared up at him blankly. She winced and he relaxed his hold. Just a little.
Her stomach rolled once, twice and then seemed to settle. So much for the five-star dinner that cost as much as the national debt of a small country.
"Jessie?"
"What?"
"What happened, damn it?" He turned to a shadowy form behind him. "She must have a concussion. She doesn't seem to—"
"I just fainted, Joshua." Rolling her head so she could look directly at him, she managed a weak smile. "I don't have brain damage—I'm fine." She straggled to sit up, grateful when Joshua supported her with his arm. They were in an office. Two men stood discreetly across the room.
"I don't think the rich food on top of all the excitement did my stomach any good. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you."
"You didn't," Joshua said shortly, scanning her face. "God, you're as white as a sheet."
"That's 'cause you just wiped my makeup off." Jessie rested her head against his arm. She was feeling much better now and enjoyed Joshua's worried look. "Please tell me my dress stayed in place, and I fell like a lady."
"There were so many men vying to pick you up we almost forgot why you were lying on the floor," Joshua said dryly as he smoothed back her hair from her face. Her skin felt clammy. His hands felt cool and dry.
"Before I embarrass myself anymore, can we go back to our room?"
"I'll have the good doctor come up to check on you."
"I don't need a—"
Joshua gave the doctor instructions in rapid French before picking Jessie up. She felt as light as a feather, and as pale as a sheet. Her brown eyes were enormous in her pale face. He'd picked up the plastic combs she used to hold her hair up and stuffed them in his pocket.
"Make sure my bottom isn't showing." Jessie closed her eyes as he carried her through the casino to the elevator. Joshua bid his smile, making sure the short dress was tucked neatly against her legs with his arm.
"You're quite decent," he said gruffly, maneuvering her into the empty elevator.
"I feel ridiculous." Jessie's voice was muffled against his pleated shirtfront.
"Everyone thought you fainted very elegantly," Joshua teased as he managed to open the door to the suite and get her inside.
"I know you're not telling me the truth—that I fell flat on my nose in front of a million well-dressed gazillionaires and their diamond-studded wives. I bet everyone saw my underwear." Her lower lip trembled. When she looked up at him there were tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry I embarrassed you."
He used his thumb to wipe away the steady stream trickling down her cheeks. "It's only a big deal to you, Jessie. Nobody noticed, I promise. Seconds before you wilted, the prince and his entourage walked in. Everyone was looking at him, not you."
"It's going to get worse," she suddenly said, her face draining of every vestige of color. "Don't slow down until we reach the bathroom."
Joshua set her down just in time before she was violently sick. He held her head as spasms wrenched her slender body. When he was sure she was done, he supported her as she washed her face and brushed her teem, then he carried her back to bed.
"Don't." She moaned as he wiped her face with a cool damp cloth. He had never been more relieved than when the doctor knocked on the door some minutes later.
When the man had left, advising rest and simple foods for a few days, Joshua helped a very wilted Jessie undress and crawl back under the covers.
She looked up at him with those big brown eyes as he sat on the bed beside her
, careful not to jiggle the mattress.
"Can I get you anything?"
"No, thanks. I feel like an idiot. Why don't you go back to the casino? I'll see you later."
"I'm staying right here, with you." Sliding his arm around her shoulders, he gently pulled her close to his side. "Close your eyes and try to sleep."
* * * * *
Jessie woke him the next morning, bright-eyed and ready to start the day. She lay across his chest. He groaned. "You're sick. Go back to sleep."
"Nope." She leaned harder, nudging him with warm sleek skin. "I feel fabulous, and you promised we'd go for a cruise today."
"I'll attest to the 'feel fabulous' part." He slid his hand down her back to her bottom.
"Oh, no you don't." Jessie rolled over, then kicked off the blankets. She was like a jack-in-the box as she shot out of bed.
Naked and glowing, she paused at the bathroom door.
"Come on, Joshua, get dressed, please?" She fluttered her eyelashes, managing to sidestep him as he backed her against the Louis Quatorze credenza. "I'm taking a quick shower, then I want to go somewhere lovely for breakfast."
After her "lovely" breakfast, Joshua found the yacht and crew he'd hired the day before.
Dressed in brief white shorts that showed off her gorgeous legs and a cropped top that made his mouth water, Jessie sprawled in a deck chair beside him. Her ponytail, caught up in a hot-pink scarf that matched the stripes in her top was, as usual, quite crooked. She looked tanned, healthy and sexy as hell.
The crew discreetly kept their eyes on their business as they sailed lazily up the coast.
Joshua had stripped down to his black shorts earlier and settled back against the soft cushions with a sigh of pure pleasure. The hot Mediterranean sun baked his skin as the smell of the ocean and Jessie's subtle fragrance lulled him into a light doze. He opened his eyes when he felt soft lips on his cheek some time later.