Let it Ride

He shrugged.

“What should I be prepared for?” she asked.

“To be swept off your feet,” he said with a wink and walked away.

Two

Deacon returned to the security booth after calling his secretary to find out where Kylie was staying. He was pleased when he discovered she was a guest at his hotel. He’d made arrangements for a picnic dinner to be prepared by the Golden Dreams head chef. He also called the bellman and ordered his Jaguar to be brought around front. Then he called the flower shop and had a bouquet sent to Kylie’s room.

“Smooth work down there,” Mandetti said when Deacon reentered the security room.

“Yeah, I especially liked the part where she almost fell off the bench trying to get away from you,” Mac said with a grin.

Deacon ignored them, his mind on Kylie. She had returned to her room. Thanks to Martha, he knew she was in the east tower, room 1812. He keyed up her hallway on the monitor. It was empty. He tried not to think about her as a woman. She was the means to an end. The faceless model in the Ralph Lauren ad wearing a cable-knit sweater and holding a child.

Except she wasn’t a faceless woman. She was Kylie Smith, a woman with sharp wit and a sense of humor. He hadn’t expected humor from her. He’d never really considered that as a qualification for the right family.

Mac leaned over his shoulder again. “You got it bad.”

“Got what?” Deacon asked.

“The lust bug.”

“Ha. This has nothing to do with lust.” That wasn’t entirely true, but Deacon didn’t discuss women with Mac, because they tended to disagree about them on a fundamental level. Deacon had been raised by his mom and surrounded by showgirls. Mac had been raised by his father, a bitter man who hated all women. Mac’s attitude toward women was that they were after only one thing—money. Deacon had seen firsthand how money could make the difference between life and death to a woman on the streets.

“She doesn’t seem like the one-night-stand type,” Mandetti said.

Deacon knew that; his intentions toward her were noble. Kylie was even better-suited to the label in his head that read WIFE than he’d thought she’d be.

“I can’t believe you, old man,” Mac said.

“What’s not to believe?” He turned to Mandetti. “Doesn’t she look like marriage material?”

Mandetti nodded.

Mac leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “You really think you’re going to marry her.”

Deacon shrugged. Unless he’d lost his touch, hell, yeah, he was going to marry Kylie.

“She won’t do it,” Mac said.

“She might,” Mandetti said.

Mac could be right. But when he put his mind to something, Deacon never lost. He’d carved a life for himself many wanted but few ever achieved. He wasn’t one of those guys who accepted defeat. Nothing gave Deacon the thrill wagering did. Though Kylie had the potential, he thought. “Wanna bet?”

“Now you’re talking,” Mac said. “Terms?”

“There are no terms. If I convince her to marry me, I win.” Deacon liked things simple.

“Okay, but you do it in two weeks. And it has to be a real marriage.”

Two weeks, was that enough time? Kylie was a little skittish, but he’d handle her carefully.

“Deal. When I win, you can finance a new addition to the children’s shelter,” Deacon said. One of the first things he’d done when he’d made his fortune was to finance a children’s shelter for Vegas kids. A place to keep them off the streets while their parents gambled or worked in casinos.

“Okay. When I win, you can finance a medieval-sword display at the Chimera.” Mac’s hotel/casino was known for its world-renowned traveling displays.

Mandetti’s cell phone rang, and he turned to take the call. Deacon heard him curse in Italian. “Give me a break, angel. I’m just getting started here.”

“See? Women are nothing but trouble,” Mac said. Mandetti covered the mouthpiece. “I better take this outside. I’m going to be observing your operation on the floor tonight, right?”

“Yes. I’ll join you after midnight. I’ll have Peter meet you in the lobby in fifteen minutes, okay?”

Mandetti nodded and left the room. Mac followed him out.

Deacon settled back in one of the empty chairs in the security room. A small team of three men were always on shift. A glass wall separated them from Deacon and his bank of monitors. He’d had the room designed so he could come in and observe whenever he wanted without disturbing the security operation. Also, it allowed him to train new hires without disrupting the workflow.

Kylie emerged from her room, and he watched her pause in the hallway. She chewed her lower lip and turned back to her door. She was going to stand him up, he thought.

She went into her room. Deacon reached for his cell phone, dialed the front desk and asked to be connected to her room. Kylie needed some coaxing.

She answered on the second ring. Her voice had a sexy breathless quality.

“Hey, angel,” he said, trying for a lightness he didn’t feel. It shouldn’t matter to him if she changed her mind. If he lost the bet with Mac, he’d be out a bit of money but hardly enough to break him. And it wasn’t as if there weren’t other respectable women in the world. But there was something about Kylie Smith he wanted.

“Deacon?”

“Who else?”

“I don’t think you know me well enough to call me angel,” she said. The tart note in her voice would have done a schoolteacher proud.

“I will after tonight,” he said. The sensual promise he’d seen in her eyes earlier guaranteed it.

He remembered that scared moment when she’d almost bolted, but then found her sass and stayed. He knew she wanted to have dinner with him. But he also knew that her life to date had conditioned her and he was moving too fast. He’d have to find a way around her objections.

“Um…about that…”

“Not going to back out now, are you?” Deliberately he pitched his voice low. He’d been told by one of his ex-girlfriends that she’d do anything for him when he asked her in that tone.

“Well…”

She was wavering. “Take a chance. This is Vegas, angel, and you’re not living it unless you take a risk.”

“Are you risky?” she asked.

“Not for you,” he said, surprised to realize he meant it. He wanted her to feel safe with him. Safe and secure. And sure that he wasn’t going to wine her, dine her and then walk away in the morning.

“It’s just dinner,” he said after a few moments of silence.