“What?” I snap my head up in his direction with a confused look on my face
“I think I might keep you. You’re lucky. “
If only he knew. The bottom drops out of the happiness I was just feeling and I lower my gaze. “I’m not lucky. I’m trouble,” I whisper.
He gently grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts my head so I’m looking up at him. “Well, in that case, I like your kind of trouble.” His voice is lower so only I can hear. “I’ll take my chances. I think the odds are pretty good.”
My heart rate accelerates as he moves toward me and presses his lips to my cheek. I close my eyes and softly lean into him, and he lingers for a moment before pulling away, leaving my skin searing and my heart racing.
“You’re all the luck I need. That’s two thousand dollars you just won me.”
My eyes widen and Denham chuckles. “Two thousand dollars? But…you let me take a chance with a thousand dollars of your money?” He nods and his smile widens. “Wait, you’re kidding aren’t you? You own the place it doesn’t count, right?”
This just makes him laugh out loud. “It counts. Come on, Trouble. Let’s play blackjack.”
I shake my head gently, laughing at the craziness of Las Vegas, then I down what’s left of my martini. “I think I need another drink,” I mutter, and we detour to the bar.
After one more martini and several unsuccessful attempts to teach me how to play blackjack (mainly down to Denhammaking me laugh and distracting me with his handsomeness), I’m once again battling with the angel and devil who sit on my shoulders. I would like nothing more than to stay here for the rest of the evening and find out more about the man who is Denham King, but something is telling me that if I don’t walk away now, this may venture somewhere that will be very hard to come back from.
“Would you like another drink?” he asks.
“No, I really should be going.” I hop off the stool and straighten myself out. It takes all of my willpower to be determined enough to call it a night, especially because we are having so much fun.
Denham touches the tips of his fingers to my wrist and holds me in place. “Will you turn into a pumpkin?”
“Ha-ha. No, at least, I don’t think so,” I say, feeling a little sad that this evening has to come to an end.
“Then stay …”
I look at his handsome face, his chiseled jaw, his soft inviting lips and his eyes, his deep rich brown eyes that I could lose myself in, his easy demeanor, his subtle protectiveness…
“No, really, I have to go. Thank you for this evening. It’s been fun and I’m glad I didn’t lose you all your money.” I stand to leave.
“I told you, you’re lucky.” I smile and shake my head gently. “Can I call you?” he asks with an air of confidence.
“You have my room number.”
“No, I mean a cell. Your personal number.”
“I, I don’t have a cell.” I frown when I realize how stupid that sounds. Everyone has a cell these days, and now he probably thinks I’m giving him the brush off. “I’m not lying, I mean, I’m not trying to just put you off so you don’t call. You know I would like you to call, but I really actually don’t have a cell. I broke it and…well, I just haven’t had a chance to get a new one yet.”
“You’re good at that,” Denham says with a raised eyebrow and a cheeky grin.
“Good at what?”
“Waffling.” He stands, offering me his hand and I take it without hesitation. “Come on, Trouble. I’ll walk you to your room.”
The swarm of butterflies in my stomach start when we’re in the elevator. From the ground floor to the penthouse, we’re alone and the air is crackling with sexual tension. By the time we reach my room, the butterflies are flying around so fast I feel like my legs are going to give out.
He’s just a man, just a man…I repeat over and over in my head. I have no idea why he makes me feel like this. It’s an excited nervousness but unsettling all the same. Denham stands behind me patiently and I’m sure I look like a crazy woman as I mumble to myself under my breath while trying to find the key card in my tiny little clutch that isn’t actually small enough for anything to get lost in.
“Got it!”
I exhale and turn to meet an expression that isn’t instantly readable. When Denham steps forward, I take two steps back, bumping into the door and giving myself no way out.
“I had a great evening, thank you,” I say nervously.
“Me too.” His eyes never leave mine as he moves forward a half step more so our chests touch and rests his hand on the door frame above my head. I feel the wisps of his breath on my lips as he tilts his head toward mine and my senses go into overdrive. I can almost taste him. He lightly brushes his lips across mine, soft, inviting…then his phone rings. We both jump at the intrusion, and I don’t know if I feel disappointed or relieved.
