The Billionaire's Casino - The Complete Collection: Billionaire Romance Box Set

by Sarah J. Brooks

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Facebook: Sarah J. Brooks

  Chapter One

  I couldn’t believe I was going to Italy. When Dean mentioned Paris, that had been where I really wanted to go, but I didn’t want it to seem like I was trying to hint at something; you know, the whole city of lovers’ thing. Just seemed wrong so early in the relationship.

  But despite the fact it hadn’t been all that long, things were moving quickly. We were opening up and letting each other into our past—mostly because Dean had to.

  After being held hostage by the brother of Dean’s late-ex-girlfriend, I deserved to know what was going on, and boy did I find out. Now here I was—some high-priced therapist on Dean’s dime—also on medical leave from work. I sat in the office looking around. There were cream walls and bright throw pillows in what I assumed was some attempt to make people feel welcome and relaxed. It wasn’t working on me; that much was for sure.

  My gut twisted, and I was pretty sure I was going to puke.

  The woman sat across from me with a blank expression. “So, Rebecca … Dean said you needed to talk about a couple things that happened recently.”

  “Yea … I um, had a gun held to my head.”

  “That must have been scary.”

  “It was.”

  And it had been. I thought I was about to die, and it was all because of some guy I hardly knew. I wanted to blame Dean, but in reality, I couldn’t—anyways, he was doing more than enough blaming himself to cover both of us.

  “How did that happen?”

  “Um, someone from Dean’s past came back to haunt him.” I wasn’t going to give her all the details; I wasn’t sure if I trusted her half enough to do that. She nodded.

  “I see … so this had nothing to do with you, right?”

  “No. I had no clue about any of it until after it happened.”

  “That must have been hard on you.”

  “It … was.” Where was she going with this?

  “Do you want to talk about it?” She raised an eyebrow. “Tell me about it from your point of view.”

  “Not really.”

  I knew I was being difficult, and I didn’t really feel bad for it. I didn’t want to be here.

  The woman stood. She looked me up and down before walking over to her window. “You don’t want to be here, do you?”

  “Nope,” I admitted.

  “I didn’t think so. See, I’d love to help you through it, but I can’t do that if you don’t want the help.”

  “So I can go.” I stood quickly and stepped towards the door.

  “Just one moment.” I froze and turned to stare at her. “Are you having the nightmares yet?”

  My mouth fell open as I stared at her. I shouldn’t have been surprised; after all, she was a professional. “Yes.”

  “Started the flashbacks?”

  “No.”

  “How’s your eating?”

  “It’s …” I thought about it and didn’t say anything. I wasn’t willing to admit just how bad it was.

  “I want to help you.” She turned back to me. “But I can’t do it if you’re not ready. You’re welcome to leave, but Dean paid for five sessions; so when you’re ready, all you have to do is call.”

  Instead of doing the single thing I’d wanted to do since getting here—which was leave—I did the thing I never thought of actually doing. I sat down in the chair I’d been in a couple of seconds ago. I had a feeling I’d just been played, but if she was being honest with me ... If I was going to start having flashbacks … And I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. I swallowed dryly.

  “So, what am I supposed to do about it?”

  “We’re going to work through this together. It’s going to take a little opening up on your behalf, and it’s going to take a plan. A little time out of your day each day, but this is something that can be worked through.” She gave me a smile. “I’m the foremost female therapist in this state that deals with PTSD.” I opened my mouth to protest. I couldn’t have PTSD, but … but then what could I have? “I know suffering a traumatic event is scary, and it can leave you scared, but I can help you heal those scars.”

  “How?” I stared at her with wide eyes. How was she going to fix me?

  “Like I said, it will take work. We’ll focus on working through the thoughts and feelings you are having about everything, as well as addressing the issues that arise with PTSD, like your lack of sleep and your nightmares. Then we’ll also focus on positive life changes that will help, like getting physical, a healthy diet and avoiding … substances to cope.”

  For a split second, I thought maybe I wouldn’t mind her so much. A smile touched my lips. “So, what now?”

  “Now, we talk.” She leaned back in her chair and grabbed a notebook and pen. “I hope you don’t mind if I take notes. It helps me remember things so we can talk about them again in the future.”

  I nodded, motioning for her to feel free. “What are we supposed to talk about?”

  “Well, we’re not going to talk, I want to listen. How’ve you been feeling?”

  Chapter Two

  “So, how was it?”

  I hadn’t even closed the door before Dean piped up. He stood in the kitchen with a pizza box in front of him.

  “It was fine. We talked; well, I mean I talked. How was work?” I couldn’t believe I was about to say it, but I was beginning to wish I’d been at work instead of at therapy.

  “What did you guys talk about?” He totally ignored my question.

  “Stuff. We talked about everything that happened recently and how it’s been affecting me and what my life goals are and a whole bunch of other stuff that I don’t really see how it’s going to matter.” I shrugged, slipping out of my coat.

  I knew Dean was just trying to do the right thing by making me go to therapy, but I wasn’t impressed that he hadn’t spoken to me about it before he even talked to me about it. I bit my lip, taking a deep breath as I slipped past him. I honestly wasn’t sure if I wanted to be mad at him or thankful that I had someone to support me and who was willing to do whatever it took to.

  “Are you all packed for tonight?”

  “Yes.” I’d been packed since Saturday. After everything that happened, Dean didn’t want me at work, so he told me to stay home, which meant that after my mother was done flipping her shit over what had happened, I soon ran out of things to do.

  *

  I thought I’d been doing her a favor by not telling her about what happened, that is until I got a text asking if there had been a shootout at my casino. I’m not quite sure when my parents started watching the news, but it was after I’d moved out.

  The door opened behind me.

  “I thought I heard you come home!” Katie grinned widely. “Well, how was it? Did you have a cute therapist?”

  “I guess she was pretty.” I turned to my best friend and felt a sense of calm wash over me. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be mad at Dean or not, but I knew that I didn’t want to be mad at Katie. She was my best friend and had been since I moved in. She looked me up and down.

  “You hated it, didn’t you?”

  “I … it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” I admitted. “And it might actually be good for me in the long run. She wants me to start working out; she says it will help with my sleeping.”

  “You’re having trouble sleeping?” They both said at the same time.

  I shrugged. “That shit happens after a ‘traumatic event’ or, at least, that’s what she says.” I made sure to use mimic quotation marks.

  It’s not that I didn’t think I’d suffered a traumatic event. I was pretty sure she was right about me having PTSD of some sort, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it; I wa
nted to play it down so no one thought they had to take care of me. I’d already had my mom try to convince me to move back in with them.

  “Well,” Katie looked at me with soft eyes. “As long as she helps, that’s all I care about. She put you on any pills for it?”

  “No, she wants to avoid that kind of stuff.” I glanced at Dean, who had a soft smile on his face though he wasn’t actually looking at me.

  *

  I’d picked someone I knew wasn’t going to want to give her medication. I’d seen what that did to people, and was willing to bet the medication Keith was given had a lot to do with why he tried to kill me—and just recently held a gun to Becca’s head. Taking a slice of pizza, I headed for the living room, sensing that the two girls in front of me needed some time.

  So I dropped down onto the couch, turned up the TV a little bit and let them have some time to themselves.

  I took a bite of pizza, mostly for something to do. I knew she wasn’t happy about me setting up an appointment for her but could tell there was something wrong. She didn’t look like she was sleeping and I’d wake up in the middle of the night, and she wouldn’t be there. That wasn’t normal for her—but every time I tried to bring it up, she’d just tell me that I didn’t know her well enough to know what was or wasn’t normal for her. And she was right; we hadn’t been together all that long.

  Yet she’s already been traumatized because of me. I hated myself the second I thought it. I’d known a long time ago that everything with Keith was going to come back to haunt me and maybe I deserved that, but Becca didn’t. I should have been more careful. “You thought it was all in the past.” Melina would try to fight me. And she was right. I did think it was but should have known better.

  I stared blankly at the screen in front of me not really aware of what was on.

  Charges should have been pressed all those years ago. I should have gotten him locked up instead of feeling bad for him.

  “I didn’t realize you liked Sex and the City.”

  “What?” I snapped, looking at the girl who dropped down onto the couch beside me. Her eyes locked on the screen in front of us. “Oh.”

  I grabbed a remote and handed it to her.

  “Are you alright?” she asked, taking a bite of her pizza.

  No.

  I looked around. “Where is Katie?”

  “Oh, she has a date or something. Just wanted to leave me with some info about the guy. So you’re not answering my questions today.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “First, you didn’t answer me when I asked how work was, and now you’re not answering me when I ask if you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine …” I could tell he was lying, but I didn’t call him on it. “And work was busy, that’s all.”

  I bit back the urge to say something snarky. I didn’t want to fight with him, but I wanted us to talk about something if he wasn’t dealing well. Light bulb.

  “So, I’ve been thinking you should come to therapy with me. I mean, it was your idea after all.”

  “No, no. It’s fine. It’s about you; I don’t want to take away from it.”

  I rounded to face Dean. He was gorgeous, even with dark circles around his eyes. “Look, you wanted me to do this, and that’s fine; I get you’re trying to help me out, but you need help too. She’s not going to tie me down and make me talk, so … I’m not going unless you do.”

  I knew it was unfair, but sometimes you had to be unfair, right? If it was right for your partner. I knew that’s what Dean thought when he got me the appointment.

  “Becca, that’s not fair.”

  “No, it’s not, but just consider it, okay? Because I’m not the only one in the relationship that needs a little bit of help, and you seem to think it would be good for me, so what’s to make you think it wouldn’t be good for you too?”

  I watched his wheels turning as he tried to find a good answer. A smile spread over my face as he realized he couldn’t and closed his mouth.

  I glanced at my phone. “What time is the flight?”

  He leaned over to look. “We should be there in three hours, just to be safe.”

  Which meant we had three hours to kill. Dean moved closer to me, his thumb rested under my chin as he pulled me towards him. His lips touched mine gently.

  “Thank you,” he whispered softly. I stared at him blankly as he kissed me again; this time, the kiss was stronger and lasted longer. His fingers tangled in my hair gently, pulling me closer to him. “I’m honestly so lucky to have you; I hope you know that.”

  My cheeks flushed. “Why do you think that?”

  “Because, I never thought I’d find someone after Jessica honestly, and after what I did to her—”

  “You didn’t do anything to her,” I cut in. It wasn’t his fault she died.

  “I just didn’t think that I’d ever meet someone like her again—no offense.” Oh, it was hard not to take any there. “But then I meet you and … and it’s just like all of a sudden I know this amazing girl who wants to accept me and … and everything I put you through. I should have told you the truth right off the bat. I should have told you what was going on when Keith showed up. And I didn’t. And it was my fault that he managed to get to you and … and I’m so sorry for that.”

  “It’s all in the past, and it wasn’t your fault; you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

  It was true he should have told me what was going on, and if he had I wouldn’t be in a situation for Jessica Bright’s brother to get to me, but it wasn’t his fault that Keith Bright thought Dean had killed Jessica. Even if the police had ruled the option out.

  Maybe if they’d ever caught the killer, Keith could let it go, but right now, he thought Dean was getting away with murder. Even I had to understand why he did what he did. I pulled away from Dean as my eyes locked on his. My heart sank a little as I saw the sadness in his eyes. He really did blame himself for this.

  “Please, just consider going to my next session with me, please.”

  “Alright.”

  “Thank you.” I took his hand and squeezed gently, thankful that he was finally warming up to the idea. I mean, if I were going to have to go, he should too. Not just as in a tit for tat kind of way, but it was clear to me he needed it.

  Dean pulled me into his arms, and we just lay there. Neither of us really paid much attention to what was on TV, but it was there as background noise. I didn’t realize how quickly the time went by as we just sat there and did nothing until Dean’s phone rang letting us know that it was time to start getting ready. As he called the cab, I applied a little makeup, and we made our way downstairs with our bags to wait for the cab.

  Chapter Three

  The flight was long, but it was totally worth it. Dean had booked us four days off. Two would be spent traveling, but that was fine—I still had two days, plus a little more, to explore Italy. I grinned as we dropped our bags in the hotel.

  Looking around, I blew out a deep breath. He hadn’t gone with the cheapest option; that was for sure. There was a small gift basket on the desk that overlooked a river and a small forest area in the middle of a town. There was only one bed, and the sheets on it looked like they were silk.

  I reached out and ran a finger along them, my eyes closing. Oh, my God, I was going to sleep under silk bedding tonight. It was going to be amazing. I never thought in a million years of ever sleeping under silk blankets.

  Stepping away from the bed, I looked around. There was a huge TV, something I didn’t think we’d be making much use of, and a small fridge along with a counter that held a kettle and a coffeemaker.

  “Wow …” I padded over to the window and looked down. You’d think it wouldn’t really look any different than Las Vegas, but honestly, it looked like it was another world, much less another country. “This is amazing.” I turned to Dean, who smiled widely at me.

  “I’m glad you like it. Now, what do you say we go do a little sightseeing? I had a couple places
in mind in case you didn’t know where you wanted to go.”

  “What were you thinking?”

  I closed the distance between us, but instead of reaching out and pulling him into a hug, which was what I wanted to do, I grabbed my purse and made sure there was everything I could need in there. Water, snacks, camera. Yes. I had an actual camera in there—what can I say? I’m old school.

  I slung my purse over my shoulder and grinned.

  “Are you ready to go?” He returned my grin.

  “Sure thing. Where are we going?”

  Dean made his way towards the door before he spoke. “I was thinking we could grab a little real pizza first. Do you want to go to a museum? How about an art gallery? Or would you rather save that for tomorrow? We can just go for a walk tonight and do a little shopping, how does that sound?”

  Sounded perfect to me. “Let’s do that.” I grabbed his hand as we headed out of the room and towards the elevator. Thankfully, we didn’t have to wait long before one arrived.

  The door opened, but I didn’t move. I just stood there frozen.

  “Becky?”

  He looked the same as last time I saw him. With short blond hair and blue eyes.

  Dean grabbed me. I felt his hand touch the small of my back. “Rebecca,” he whispered.

  “Hi,” I finally managed but didn’t want to. I wanted nothing more than to turn around and run away from him. “How are you, Brad?”

  I felt Dean stiffen beside me. His hand dug into my skin gently as he pushed me forward so we could get onto the elevator. Because I really wanted to be stuck in an elevator with Brad right now. I swallowed dryly.

  “I’ve been good… God, you look so good.” His eyes roamed over my body, and for a split second, I felt dirty. I reached out and took Dean’s hand in mine. He was quick to pull away and wrap his arm around my shoulder.

  “Yea, well I’m a lot less of a high-stress job now.” And you know, I wasn’t with him, but I wasn’t going to say that.

  “It’s been forever. How are you doing?” Brad stepped closer to me, reaching out as if he was about to touch me. My entire body stiffened.