Raising the Stakes

He’d come to Las Vegas to learn things and he had. He’d learned all he needed tonight.

He knew that he wanted to make love to Dawn Kitteridge and show her what being in a man’s arms—in his arms—could be like.

His jaw clenched.

And he knew that Harman had lied. Whatever had happened on that Arizona mountaintop, Dawn would never have walked away and left her child behind.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

GRAY got to the coffee shop at twenty after six. Dawn wasn’t there yet so he fed the machine some coins, bought a cup of coffee and settled in to wait.

He didn’t mind waiting. It gave him time to think about last night, how

she’d returned that last kiss with an innocence that hinted at the passion locked within her. He could see it in her eyes, in her smile; he felt it whenever he touched her, whenever he caught her glancing at him from under the sweep of her lashes. Behind the fear, beneath the cool exterior, a woman waited to be set free. And he wanted to be the man to do it. His senses were filled with Dawn’s scent, with her taste, with the low, lovely sound of her voice.

He’d never felt such intense need for a woman as he felt for her.

Last night, he’d made a couple of phone calls, then tried to sleep. After an hour of tossing and turning, the bed was a tangled mess. He got up, showered, put on jeans and a T-shirt and went down to the casino. He’d wandered around aimlessly, watching the crowd gathered around a roulette table where a middle-aged guy with horn-rimmed glasses was raking in the chips and trembling with excitement. He’d even fed a few bucks into a slot machine that promised a two million dollar payoff and after a few desultory pulls at the handle—not necessary, he knew, but at least it gave him something to do besides stare at the apples and oranges on the screen—the machine had suddenly belted out a series of electronic whoops and trills and regurgitated what looked like a ton of half dollars.

“You won!” the woman playing the next machine shrieked.

He had, to the tune of four hundred bucks. And he had to admit, just for a couple of minutes, he’d felt a rush of adrenaline. The lady on the adjacent stool leaned in, all but lay her boobs on his arm and asked him if he’d like to celebrate. Gray took his first real look at her. She was pretty. More than that. She was what any man in his right mind would have called hot, and her smile made it clear she was his for the asking.

He hadn’t asked. Instead he’d thought about a woman with a hesitant smile and a mouth as soft as silk.

“Sorry,” he’d said, with what was almost genuine regret. “I appreciate the offer but I’ve had a long day.” Then he’d nodded at the tray that held his winnings. “You celebrate for me,” he’d said, and walked out, headed back to his room and what remained of the night. He’d spent it dreaming about Dawn and how it would be to awaken her to desire.

Just thinking about seeing her this morning had made it easy to get up after only a few hours’ sleep. He’d even found himself singing while he showered, something he hadn’t done since his college roommate had threatened to drown him if he ever sang another note.

Now it was six forty-five and he was still sitting here by himself, waiting for a woman he was beginning to suspect wasn’t going to show.

At five past seven, Gray dumped what remained of his cold coffee in the trash and headed for the telephone bank. Maybe she’d overslept. Maybe she was sick. Maybe he shouldn’t have let her drive home alone.

He dialed her home number. The phone rang six times before a mechanical voice informed him that no one was available to take his call.

At the tone, leave…

Gray slammed down the phone. A robot’s voice had more warmth.

Calm down, he told himself. Calm down, there’s probably a simple explanation…and there was. He turned his back to the telephone and saw Dawn standing near one of the shops, looking cool and polite and pleasant as she made conversation with a guy wearing a robe. She had a pad and pencil in her hand. She’d started her work day. Gray could feel his blood pressure soar. She glanced at him as he walked toward her and though she paled a little, she didn’t flinch.

The man took her hand and kissed it. “Thank you for all your help, Miss Carter.”

“My pleasure, Prince Ahmat.”

Gray waited until the prince strolled off. Then he spoke softly and, he hoped, carefully.

“Did you get here late?”

Dawn shook her head.

“Was there some monumental problem with that gentleman, something you had to deal with or your job would have been in jeopardy?”

“No.”

She spoke softly. He read the word on her lips more than heard it.

His control was slipping. Hell, it was racing away. She was looking at him as if he were a stranger and last night had never happened.