Excitement overtakes my good sense and my dignity. I throw my arms around Finn’s neck, laughing. His eyes sparkle blue and green hues. “I told you good things would come to those who wait,” he says, his voice low and private. They aren’t suggestive words, not really. But I feel the erotic suggestion throughout my body, at the tips of my breasts and between my legs. As if he’s rewarding me after a long, tantric session.
“I’m thirty-three,” I tell him, waiting for his shock, his stiffness.
Dreading the way he’ll have to force a smile.
He searches my eyes. “Do you think that matters to me?”
“You’re a playboy. A rascal. You can have your pick of any woman inside this casino. And any woman outside of it. Why would you want me?”
“A rascal,” he says, laughing. “Who says rascal anymore?”
Despite my embarrassment, despite my awkwardness, I find myself laughing with him. Laughing so hard tears prick my eyes. “See? I told you. I’m an old grandma.”
He shakes with silent humor before becoming serious again. “Eva. You’re an incredibly sexy woman. A bombshell. A goddamn dream. Any man would want you, me included.”
I stop breathing for a ten count. “You do?”
“Men must make passes at you all the time. Women, too.”
A knot forms in my throat.
“But you don’t believe them,” he guesses. “You think they’re after your money.”
I force a shrug. “It’s not unlikely. You know what I’m worth. So do other people. They want my money or even just my connections to my family. But that’s not why I don’t pay attention when someone makes a pass at me.”
“Then why?”
“Because I’m over love.” The words come out fast and honest. It scares me, how much I liked the excitement. Winning. How much I wanted to do it again. How much I enjoy having Finn’s thumb brush my hip. “And sex, for that matter. And you know what? Yes. I’m done with fun. You don’t get to judge me for that.”
I pull away from the table, prepared to leave this place.
Prepared to walk away from the best night I’ve had in weeks. Months. Maybe years.
Some instinct has me looking back. I glance in time to see Finn push the entire stack of chips, both the ones we started with and the ones I won, to the dealer. “Keep them,” he says.
The dealer’s eyes light up. “Sir.”
Tears prick my eyes. I feel young and naive, even though I know that’s ludicrous. Like I really have been sleeping in a forest for a hundred years. And when awakened by Prince Charming, I discovered that he was a billionaire bachelor named Finn Hughes.
When I climb the stairs, there are more people in which to hide.
I plunge into the crowd, hoping he can’t catch me.
Maybe I can call an Uber. My driver would be faster, but I don’t want anyone catching wind of this. Not my parents. My mother would be thrilled to know I spent the evening with Finn. It’s more my overprotective brothers who’d give me shit.
A man stumbles into my path.
For a moment it seems like an accident. I even reach out, as if to help steady him. He seems drunk. Then he turns his eyes on me, full of interest, and I realize it wasn’t an accident. He grabs my wrist and pulls me toward the back wall. I fight him, but not hard enough. I’m still shocked this is happening.
“Come on, darling. I’ll pay more than the house, and I’ll be done faster, too.”
It takes me a long moment to realize he thinks I’m a prostitute. Are there house escorts in addition to the cocktail waitresses?
“Let go of me,” I say, yanking, panicking.
Then there’s a sharp sound, and I’m free.
The man stumbles away, his back hitting the wall. He holds his arm protectively.
Finn is in front of me. “You made a mistake. Apologize.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was paid for already.”
“Apologize to the lady.”
Whatever he sees in Finn’s eyes makes him flush. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
After a long, tense moment, Finn nods. Men with bald heads and black suits emerge from the crowd and drag the man out the back door. They must have come when they heard a commotion, but they waited for Finn to decide what to do with the man.
Would they have let Finn hurt him?
That’s the power of the Hughes name. I shiver.
Finn is handsome and charming, but it would be a mistake to underestimate him.
He turns to me as the crowd returns to their games. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I say, raising my chin so he believes me. The grip on my forearm will probably leave a bruise. But I have long-sleeved clothes to hide it. Having a childhood like mine made me tough enough to withstand some random asshole.
He takes my arm in his, surprisingly gentle. Two fingers brush along the skin that’s screaming in pain right now. It was crushed and twisted in that man’s fist. “I should find him and kill him for you.”