Stroke of Luck

Austin nodded. “And you probably don’t have money for bus fare.”

She shook her head. “But that’s okay. I’ll figure something out.”

From the anxiety in her eyes, it was clear she had no idea how. Quinn remembered that she had no family. But she must have friends.

“No matter what, I doubt you want to rush off home after all this,” Austin said. “You need some time away from your normal life to let this all sink in. Why not stay with us for a few days while you figure things out? We’ve got a huge penthouse suite, so there’s plenty of room.”

Her gaze flickered to Quinn. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Nonsense,” Quinn said. “It’s a great idea.”

He didn’t know what the hell he was thinking. Other than his cock hoping for a chance to finally sink into her.

“Your luggage is already at our place, so why not?” he continued.

“At least stay tonight, and you can keep us company at the casino,” Austin insisted. “I have a feeling you’re going to bring us luck.”

* * *

April didn’t know what to say. She had no money and no one to call for help, so having one more night to defer having to figure it out would be a godsend.

“Thank you. I appreciate your generosity.”

“Good,” Austin said. “Now that that’s settled, I’m going back to the penthouse to check on some business. Are you two coming?”

They all stood up, and she walked with the two men to the entrance.

“Actually,” Quinn said, “I think now is as good a time as any to return the ring.” His eyebrow arched. “Right, April?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Austin said. “A pleasure meeting you, April. I look forward to seeing you later.”

Austin turned and walked toward the elevator. Quinn grasped her elbow firmly and guided her to the lobby. When he talked to the concierge, the man spoke with someone on the phone, then directed them to the manager’s office, telling them the manager would handle their needs personally. Quinn led her down the elegant hallway paneled in contoured mahogany, then to an imposing office.

A large, very tall man stood up from behind the desk and walked toward them.

“Ah, Mr. Taylor.” He offered his hand, and they shook. “So nice to see you again.”

Then he turned to her, and her chest tightened.

“Ms. Smith, I’m Adrian Gunter, the hotel manager.” He offered his hand, and she shook it gingerly. Then he gestured to three leather armchairs arranged around a glass table. “May I get you some coffee? A drink?”

“No, thank you. We just had lunch,” Quinn said as they sat down.

“Very well.” Mr. Gunter sat across from them. “First, may I say, Ms. Smith, how sorry I am about the unfortunate cancellation of your wedding.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

As polite as he might be, this man intimidated her. Especially since she knew he was the one who had arranged to have security pound on her door this morning, demand to know how she was going to pay her bill, then hustle her out of the room while they packed up her belongings.

“I understand that you would like us to arrange the safe return of the engagement ring to your ex-fiancé.”

“Yes, that’s right,” she said.

He leaned forward, folding his hands on the tabletop. “It is most fortunate that you came in, Ms. Smith. I didn’t relish putting you into another embarrassing situation.”

“What do you mean?” Quinn asked, a slight edge to his voice.