The Prince and the Player

and we’re going to spend the night together in one of their penthouse suites. I have a fantasy to act out.”

He pulls his hand out of my dress, and steps back. I’m frozen in place watching him. Our eyes are locked as he slips those two amazing fingers into his mouth, tasting me on them.

“Delicious,” he says, giving me a wink.

I almost collapse. He pulls a handkerchief out of his back pocket, and uses it to finish cleaning up. I push my skirt lower on my hips, feeling the remnants of what we did slick on my thighs.

“I’ve got to visit the powder room.” I hold the wall behind me until I’m sure I have my balance. “Then I’m going to find Ava.”

My brain might be scrambled by this sexy player, but I’m not going anywhere without knowing where she is and talking to her. It’s what we do, and nothing can make me forget about my responsibility to her.

Cal’s lips twist. I know by the tent in his slacks he wants more now. Hell, I want more now, but I’m not the type who forgets everything important the minute she orgasms, no matter how fantastic it is. I’ve never been that person.

“You’re going to kill me, Zelda Benedict,” he sighs, placing a palm on the stone wall beside my head and leaning forward.

I step to the side and turn quickly into the casino. “I’ll meet you inside, then you can take me to that Baccarat room.”

Rowan

As I wait for Ava to emerge from the powder room, I speak to the head of my security team. “I want you to sweep the area by the fountain. We’re headed that way, and I don’t want a single fucking photographer in the area.”

“Yes, sir,” the man says, and he signals two of the guards. They leave us with still two more men in dark suits lingering in the periphery.

Ava walks out, and as soon as our eyes meet, my stomach tightens. She’s reapplied her lipstick, and her hair is smoother.

“I didn’t mean to muss you,” I say when she returns to my side. I don’t hesitate to take her hand in mine, and she doesn’t pull away. It’s a small sign of progress.

“Occupational hazard?” She slants her eyes at me.

“If only my occupation were so enjoyable.”

“Didn’t you want to play Baccarat? Zee’s probably looking for us there.”

“I’ve told security our plans. I’d like to show you the fountain… if you still want to see it?”

Her beautiful smile appears. “I would love to see it.”

I lift her small hand to my lips and kiss the tops of her fingers. “I want to give you the things you love.”

The softness in her eyes is very encouraging. I lead her out the side doors and down the wide, stone staircase. We follow a curved sidewalk lined with different varieties of palms.

A small crowd has gathered to watch the water show. I scan the area and see my men stationed near the entrances. I intentionally wore a plain black tux, no insignia, hoping to blend in. Still the word gets out. My hope is we can make it through the four-minute show without attracting attention.

Instead of staying apart, I lead us into the middle of the group to use them as camouflage. My back is to the low, stone railing, and I position Ava in front of me, her back against my chest. Her head is just at my jaw, and I slide my palm over the skin of her flat stomach. She flinches slightly, but her hand finds mine, and our fingers lace just as the show begins.

Rainbow lights fill the streams of water, and they swirl and dance to the music of a Bach suite for cello. The way I’m holding her, I feel her every response to the display. The music swells, and her breath quickens. I can’t resist, I lean down and press my lips to the side of her neck, just behind her hair. Her grip on my hand tightens, and I know she’s mine. It’s the finale, and all that’s left is to take her the short distance across the street to the Paris Hotel.

The final drops of water descend into the pool. The crowd claps softly before beginning to disperse, and she turns to face me. Our fingers are still entwined, and she’s smiling. Her eyes sparkle, and the moon highlights the tips of her hair.

“What now?” she says softly.

“Let’s walk.” Then I hesitate. “Unless your shoes—”

“I came prepared,” she laughs, moving her skirt aside to show me the bronze leather sandals she’s wearing. “I’d love to walk.”

“You’re tall,” I say, without thinking. “I like that.”

She grins. “It’s okay. I’ve gotten used to being the tall girl. Apparently, my tall father married my short mother, and I took after Dad.”