Bound By The Baby

Bound By The Baby
Susan Crosby

Buttoned-up banker Devlin Campbell prided himself on his control.That one passionate night in Atlantic City had been an aberration, but one with lasting consequences: his mystery woman was pregnant. Now that he'd found her–thousands of miles away–Dev approached Nicole with a most decent proposal. But would their ardent beginning allow these virtual strangers to forge a bond that was more than skin deep?

THE ODDS

Of meeting an attractive man at a casino: 1:1

Of having one impulsive night with said attractive man: 5:1

Of falling for your brand-new lover: 10:1

Of becoming pregnant from your one-night stand: 100:1

Of his tracking you down clear across the country: 10,000:1

Of his turning out to be a millionaire: 500,000:1

Of his offering to marry you: 1,000,000:1

Of his actually falling in love: ?????????:1

Bound by The Baby

Susan Crosby

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

For the Gilroy connection—

a great place to write a book. Thanks so much.

For Elizabeth Bevarly, Maureen Child,

Anna DePalo, Susan Mallery and Christie Ridgway—five talented and generous women.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Coming Next Month

Prologue

January 2, Sterling Palace Hotel and Casino,

Atlantic City, New Jersey

Devlin Campbell had been taking up space at a blackjack table for two hours. By rights he should be down thousands of dollars, since his head wasn’t in the game but on a letter he’d jammed into his inside coat pocket that morning. It took a lot to shake Dev up, but the one-page document typed on a California law firm’s letterhead had shaken him to the core, the repercussions still resonating. It was impossible to forget the letter, so he’d settled instead on ignoring it as best he could.

He swigged his fourth Scotch and water, then glanced at the woman standing at his shoulder, observing him silently. Even before he’d gotten himself semidrunk, she’d been easy on the eyes. Her hair was long, light brown and shiny, her body curvy and tempting, but her smile didn’t reach her beautiful blue eyes. Oddly, her sadness drew him as much as the physical attraction. He didn’t know her name, only that she’d brought him luck since he’d first laid eyes on her more than an hour ago.

He’d been in the hole a few hundred dollars when he’d spotted her walking toward his table. He had gone on full alert, everything about her appealing to him, calling to him. She’d stopped to talk to a passing employee, who had pointed toward someplace in the distance. She’d glanced in that direction then straight at him and seemed to freeze in place. Her eyes widened. For long, increasingly fascinating seconds, neither looked away. The dealer drew him back into the game, and he won the hand.

When he looked toward her again, she was gone, only to pass by him at that very moment, within reach.

“Wait,” he said, his hand on her arm, the contact sizzling. “You’re my good luck charm.”

Amazingly, she waited. When she tried to walk away several times over the next hour, he implored her to stay, although more with his eyes than his words. He dubbed her Ms. Fortune, hoping to make her laugh, but the sadness in her eyes only deepened.

And yet she stayed, even as a small crowd gathered, curious, as his winning streak continued and his bets became more daring. A pit boss watched. Security people milled.

They scrutinized Dev’s every move, but he wasn’t cheating. Wasn’t counting cards, either, although he was proficient at it. He and numbers had a remarkable affinity. However, no one could count cards at the big casinos anymore, their systems too refined for cheaters to prosper. But this time he didn’t care whether he won or lost, didn’t have the mental wherewithal to do anything more than play the game.

Yet all he did was win.

Dev jiggled the ice cubes in his otherwise empty glass, then set it down as the next hand was dealt. He lifted the corners—a jack and a five—the kind of hand any sensible person would’ve stayed on, letting the dealer’s hand determine the outcome, but Dev took a hit. Odds were he would be dealt a face card, putting him well over twenty-one.

He drew a six. Twenty-one. It was that kind of night.

As conversation buzzed around him, Ms. Fortune leaned close. “I really have to go,” she said. “Congratulations.”