by Jane Jamison
The look he gave her spiraled down inside her. She would’ve sworn he had dived into her soul and wrapped an invisible hand around it. She couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. And God knew she didn’t want to.
“Peyton, you believe you’re my lucky charm, don’t you?”
Where she’d assumed he’d been flirting before, she couldn’t help but think he was completely serious now. “I don’t know. I mean—”
“No. Don’t doubt what you are.” He checked the spot behind her and again kept her from turning around to see what had pulled his attention away for even one brief moment.
She didn’t notice him reaching into his shirt pocket until it was too late. By then, he’d wrapped a golden bracelet around her wrist. The circular twist of the piece reminded her of a serpent slinking around her wrist. Or was it a dragon? At one end was an arrow-shaped point with a wicked end to the tip. The head, surrounded with tiny horns, had a forked tongue at the other end of the golden ringlet. Judging from its shining gleam and the heaviness of the bracelet, it was made of the highest quality gold. Her costume earrings and necklace, pieces she’d scrimped to buy, appeared cheap in comparison.
“Roman, I don’t understand.”
All at once, he relaxed and leaned away. “It’s customary for a man to give a token of his appreciation to his lucky lady.”
She held up her arm to get a better look at the jewelry. He took her arm before she could lift it more than a few inches then put her hand back in her lap.
“No. Don’t pay any attention to it yet. Later, once you’re back in your room, you can stare at it all you want. For now, I want all your attention on me.”
She resisted the urge to ignore him and give the bracelet a good study, anyway. Instead, she moved it around her wrist and noticed the fine details of the piece. “I can’t accept it. Even without really looking at it, I can tell it’s way too much.”
“You have to.” The urgency in his tone flowed over her. “I’m counting on you to keep it safe.”
“Safe from what?”
He glanced away, his mouth thinning before widening with one of his beatific smiles. “I want you to have it. Please, promise me you won’t take it off while you’re in Vegas.”
Again he caught her chin and kept her gaze up before she could study it more.
“Like I said, it’s way too much. I don’t know you. I wouldn’t accept costume jewelry from a stranger much less anything more expensive. It’s already bad enough that I’ve gambled with your money.”
“You gambled, and you won. I’m happy, and you’re happy. Beside, isn’t taking risks what life’s all about?” He was distracted, too busy checking out those around and behind her.
What or who is he searching for?
“Roman, please, you have to take it back. I don’t feel right keeping it.” She wanted to be daring, carefree, the kind of girl who was used to receiving wonderful gifts, but she couldn’t. Not when she’d been raised to be a good Midwestern girl who didn’t take presents from men she didn’t know. Not that she didn’t want to know him more, but that was beside the point.
She stared at him again, getting a strange sensation the longer she looked at him. He wasn’t a stranger. At least she didn’t feel as though he was a stranger any longer. He was mysterious and sexy and charming, but there was another element to him that drew her closer. A side of him she trusted, even when her mind told her she shouldn’t.
Could a stranger not be a stranger in only a few minutes? Or did she want to believe it so she could keep the bracelet? Could she keep the bracelet for a short time? Maybe just while she was in Vegas?
“Roman,” she started to speak even before she knew what she wanted to tell him.
“Baby, no more discussion. Keep it for me. At least for now.”
For now? So it wasn’t a gift? Had he picked up on her thoughts?
She frowned. “I really don’t understand. Do you want me to have it or not?” She realized how she sounded. One minute she wanted to give it back, and in the next, she wanted to keep it. The more she twisted it around her wrist, the less she wanted to part with it.
“Peyton?”
“Yes?”
“No more discussion.”
“But—”
His mouth crushed against hers. His tongue skimmed over the seam of her lips then darted inside. At first, she was too stunned to react, but once his taste flooded her mouth, she did the only thing she could do. She cupped him behind the neck and kissed him back.
Hard. Needy. Passionately.
Emotions she’d only dreamed of feeling, sensations she’d read about in romance novels ripped into her. At that moment, she would’ve done anything he’d asked of her. It was ridiculous to do so, to believe in something existing between them, but there it was. Real and alive. Burning her from the inside out.
The casino noises, the people talking, even Walter clearing his throat to draw their attention had no effect. A bomb could’ve gone off at her feet and she wouldn’t have taken her lips from his. His hands held her arm an inch above the bracelet. He slipped off his chair and placed his other hand on her hip. She scooted to the edge of her seat, almost to the point of falling off. Yet, if she did, she’d fall straight into his arms.
He was beyond anyone she’d ever met or had ever dreamed she could meet. The heat from his body radiated into hers, pooling her need at her core. If she got any wetter, she’d worry that it would show through the tight white jeans she wore. And yet, as all that passed through her mind, she didn’t care. As long as he kept kissing her, she’d kiss him back.
When he leaned back, breaking them apart, she had to grab hold of the stool to keep from sliding off. She lifted two fingers to her plumped lips and wished she could take out her phone and snap a selfie.
“Baby”—Roman’s gaze darted around the casino then came to rest on hers—”keep the bracelet with you. Promise me you won’t take it off. Will you do that for me? Wear it while you’re here. We’ll talk about it later, okay?”
What he was asking was strange and confusing. “Just while I’m in Vegas? And then what? Do I find you and return it to you?”
She cringed at the snippiness in her tone. Still, he wasn’t making a lot of sense. Was he loaning the bracelet to her or giving it to her?
His smile was too sensual for her not to smile back. “How long are you in town? Are you staying at this hotel?”
“Shirley and I are here for the week before we go back to Ohio. And yes, we’re staying here.” He hadn’t answered her questions.
“Good. I want more time with you.”
“You do?” Every bit of irritation left her. How could she get upset at anything he did when all he had to do was open his mouth and let his velvety voice cocoon her?
“Of course I do.” He touched her cheek again. “Can’t you feel it between us? The passion, the lust?”
She colored and took a glimpse at Walter. Thankfully, Walter knew how to be discreet. He kept his expression neutral and his attention on shuffling the cards.
“I, um, I’m not sure what I’m feeling.” She’d spoken the truth.
“You do. You just don’t understand it yet.” He took her hand in both of his. “Tell me your room number. And your phone number, too.”
She went against everything she knew she shouldn’t do and told him. “Room 3233. Um, don’t you want to use your phone to add my number?”
“Just tell me what it is, baby. I’ll remember it.”
She told him, feeling very daring. If Shirley had been there, she would’ve been stunned by her behavior. Either that or cheered her on.
His mouth came back to hers, and although she hungered for another deep kiss, he only brushed his lips across hers. “I’ve got to run, but I’ll find you.” He wrapped his hand around the bracelet on her wrist. “Until then, promise me you won’t take it off. Not for anything or anyone. No matter what.”
No. Don’t promise him anything. Don’t be stupid. You don’t know
this guy. He could have stolen the bracelet.
And yet she ignored logic and said what her heart told her to say. “I promise.”
“Good.”
Before she could beg him to stay, he whirled around and strode away. She stared after him, trying to keep him in sight, but he was soon swallowed by the crowd.
“Miss, do you want to cash out or keep playing?”
Roman had walked away so quickly that he’d left not only her chips but his as well.
“I don’t want to play any longer, but what should I do about his winnings? And mine?”
“Keep them, miss.”
“Keep them? But can’t you put them on his account? He has one, right?”
Walter adopted a smug expression. “Yes, miss, he does. He’s one of the owners of the hotel.”
“You’re kidding.” Not only was Roman Sterling dashing and all kinds of sexy, he was rich. Not that it mattered to her. After her time in Vegas, he’d forget all about her. She’d never forget him, though. “Still, I can’t take the man’s money.”
Walter breathed a heavy sigh. “Trust me, miss. It’s what he’d want you to do.”
Walter knowing what Roman would want could mean only one thing. Roman was a player who called a lot of women his “lucky lady.” She was just one among many. No wonder he had a bracelet in his pocket. He probably had a drawer full of them.
So much for thinking it’s real gold. Gold-plated is probably more like it.
She still couldn’t take his money. She promised herself she’d give him the bracelet the next time she saw him. Provided she got the chance. “No, I don’t think so.” She pushed all the chips toward the dealer. “Put them on his account.”
“If you say so, miss.”
“I say so.” She stood up, feeling used and silly for falling for Roman’s obviously well-honed game. Her hand fell on top of the bracelet. Should she leave it with Walter, too?
No. I’ll keep it, and when I see him again, I’ll throw it in his face.
She pivoted around as embarrassment hit her, warming her cheeks. He’d played with her affections, probably laughing at how he’d fooled the stupid Midwestern girl, but she’d give him hell for it later.
Going in the direction Shirley had gone, she wound her way around the dollar slot machines and hunted for her friend. Halfway through the quarter machines, she realized Shirley was nowhere in sight. Had she gotten tired of waiting on her and headed up to their room? Or was she in the ladies’ restroom? She pulled out her phone and hit Shirley’s number on speed dial. The phone rang several times before voicemail finally picked up.
“Hey, girl, where are you? I’m sorry I stayed with Roman so long, but you will not believe what happened after you left. Give me a call back and tell me where you are, okay? I’m standing in the middle of the slots. If I don’t hear from you in thirty minutes, I’ll go up to the room and see if you’re asleep. Or watching porn without me. Just kidding. Sort of. But seriously, call me.”
“Where did you get that?”
The deep baritone voice reminded her of Roman’s, but it sounded older and huskier. Yet it was just as amazingly sexy as Roman’s had been. She turned around, but before she was able to face him, the tall, striking man captured her arm.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” She tugged her arm away. As surprised as she was, she still found it difficult to get angry. She was too busy checking him out.
Two gorgeous men in less than two hours. It had to be some kind of record. At least, a record for her.
“I asked you where you got the bracelet.”
He was gorgeous and ridiculously hot, but rude. His brown hair was expertly groomed. High cheekbones any model would’ve killed for played into the startling emerald eyes. His build reminded her of Roman’s, but he was broader through the shoulders. Just like Roman, he exuded an attitude of refined casualness, which wasn’t contradicted by his tailored black slacks and black silk shirt. Both men struck her as the type of man who would be comfortable at either a state dinner or the local beer hall. The only piece of jewelry he wore was a very expensive-looking watch.
And no wedding ring. Had Roman worn a wedding ring? Why hadn’t she checked for one?
“Did you hear me? Where’d you get it?”
“It’s none of your business.” She didn’t want to sound harsh, but she sensed she had to stand up to him. He was the type of man who was used to getting his own way, no matter who he was dealing with.
“It is my business. That’s my bracelet. Hand it over.”
“Your bracelet?” If he hadn’t blinked then shifted from one foot to the other, she might have believed him. “Sorry, but I don’t think it would look good on you.”
An imperious eyebrow arched. “I’m not playing games. You know what I meant.”
“No, actually, I don’t. And what’s more, I don’t want to know.” She’d whirled around, intent on getting away, when he sidestepped her, blocking her way.
“Hand it over. It doesn’t belong to you.”
“Yes, it does. A friend of mine gave it to me.” For how long? She wasn’t sure. But he didn’t need to know.
“Who gave it you? What was his name?”
“How do you know it was a man?”
The eyebrow arched again. “Because you’re a beautiful woman. Of course a man gave it to you.”
His flattery stunned her. Unlike Roman, he wasn’t teasing her. She had to take a moment to recover. “That’s very sexist of you. I could be a lesbian, you know.”
“Yes, you could be, but I don’t think so. Either way, tell me the person’s name who gave it to you.”
Her stubborn streak flared. “I’m not telling you a damn thing. How do I know you’re not a thief trying to scam me?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” He stepped closer then took her other arm. At the same time, she could see him struggling to calm down. “Listen, I apologize for coming at you that way. The bracelet was stolen while in my clan’s care, and I need to return it.”
“Your clan?” He didn’t strike her as the type of man who would do someone else’s bidding. And who was part of a clan nowadays? Was he from Scotland? Didn’t they have clans?
“Never mind.” He dragged in a long, hard breath. “Let’s try this again. My name is Dalton Valconai, and you are…?
Maybe it was because she was in Vegas. Or maybe it was because she was determined not to let her fears hold her back. Or maybe it was simply because she wasn’t thinking about her safety. Whatever the reason, she found herself drawn to him as strongly as she’d been drawn to Roman. She shouldn’t have answered him, should’ve just told him to go to hell, but a sudden urge for him to know who she was overtook her.
“I’m Peyton Henley.”
He tipped his head in a formal acknowledgment, reminding her of a bygone era. “It’s good to meet you, Peyton.”
“I wish I could say the same thing.” And yet that was a lie. If nothing else, she’d have one hell of a story to tell Shirley.
“Peyton, the bracelet is stolen. Please, even if you don’t want to tell me who gave it to you, you have to give it to me. I’ll make sure it gets back to its rightful owner.”
Roman was a thief? Was a little romantic sweet talk enough for her to be implicated in a theft? Her gut told her he wasn’t. “Which means you’re not the rightful owner. Then no way. I’m sorry, but I won’t let you have it. The man who gave it to me is expecting it back. As far as I know, it’s his bracelet.”
“So he didn’t give it to you as a permanent gift?” His green eyes darkened, and a glint of mirth shone in them. “Did he give it to you for safekeeping?”
Damn. She’d rather have him think it was a lover’s gift. The way he made it sound, the bracelet was a loaner. And yet, hadn’t Roman said the same thing in his own way? Suddenly, she felt used again, her fantasy of having met a romantic man growing dimmer.
Suddenly, he took hold of her wrist. She jerked backward, but stopped when he l
eaned closer. “I won’t hurt you. I swear it. Just let me get a good look at it.”
She had no reason to trust him, but like Roman, she did. Instead, she waited.
He gently took hold of her arm and arched his eyebrows, silently asking for her permission.
She wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but she was too curious not to find out. “Go ahead.”
Dalton twisted the bracelet, trying to work the gold around her wrist to the opening that would let it be pulled off. Yet no matter how many times he tried, how hard he tried, he couldn’t get it off.
“That’s strange.” His mood darkened again as he stared at her arm. “I can’t get it off. Why?”
She put her hand over the bracelet, started to work it off, and then thought better of it. If she took it off, he might grab it and run off. “You can’t get it off because I don’t want you to have it.”
“Can you get it off?”
“Sure I can.” She took a little delight in seeing him get ready to pounce. “But I won’t. I promised I wouldn’t, and I keep my promises.”
“Peyton, you don’t know what you’re dealing with.”
“I think I do.” She felt emboldened by her stance. “The question is…do you?”
His eyebrows dipped between his eyes. “If you’re asking whether or not I can handle you, then the answer is yes. Without a doubt, yes.”
“Prove it.”
Holy shit. What am I doing?
She couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. Had she had a lot of drinks and forgotten she’d drank them? How else could she explain her sudden boldness? Unless, of course, it was Roman’s kiss that had given her confidence.
“Are you daring me?”
She swallowed, straightened to her fullest height, and jutted out her chin. “Yep. I sure am.”
“Fine. How do I prove it?”
The problem with throwing down with a dare was coming up with the actual dare. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She scrambled for something to say then let the first thing fly out of her mouth. The first thing being something she never would have said before meeting Roman and now Dalton. “Kiss me.”