Stroke of Luck - Page 35

“They’re good friends of Maurice’s. My ex. They came here for the wedding.”

They started to walk again.

“That’s awkward. There’ll probably be quite a few of your wedding guests who decided to stay over for the weekend even though the wedding was canceled.” He grinned. “It sounds like I might have several opportunities to”—he winked—“help you hide out.”

Her heartbeat raced at the thought of being swept into his arms again.

“I … uh … no. It’s not like that. It’s just … Sarah isn’t shy about asking questions. Or stating her opinion. And doesn’t much care if it cuts to the bone.” She flicked her gaze to his. “I really appreciate what you did.”

He squeezed her hand again. “I was glad to be of service.”

7

April followed Austin around another corner, and after a few moments, they approached a wide, ornately decorated gold door with VIP Lounge written on it. Maurice had taken her here yesterday afternoon before everything had gone wrong.

Austin opened the door, and she accompanied him inside. A hostess greeted them with a tray of champagne-filled flutes. Austin picked up a glass and handed it to April, then took a sip of his own. He continued across the lounge to another door and pushed a button. The door slid open, and she realized it was an elevator. When Maurice had brought her here, they’d sat in the lounge and talked with some of his friends, then left for the rehearsal dinner afterward.

Austin pressed the eleven button, and the elevator moved upward. When the door opened, they stepped into a casino that was quite different from what they’d left downstairs. It was wood paneled and more elegant. Unlike the casino downstairs, the video machines were isolated to a section off to the right. The main casino was mostly filled with gaming tables. Lots of different kinds. All with several people around them.

There were women in glittering gowns and simple cocktail dresses, men in everything from casual suits to tuxedos. Austin fit right in with his well-tailored designer suit. Her sundress, in black with coral flowers, was borderline acceptable, but she felt a little out of place. Not that she had a choice. This was now the dressiest thing she owned as of this afternoon.

“This way,” Austin said as he led her past several tables to a craps table. “I’ve had a lot of luck at this one.”

As they approached the table, she glanced at the people surrounding it. Her heart stuttered. Oh, God, three couples who were supposed to be at the wedding today were standing at that table. She stiffened, slowing down a little.

“Something wrong?” Austin asked as he slowed to a stop.

She knew how gamblers were. The fact he’d had luck at that table would be important to him. She couldn’t ask him not to go there.

“No, nothing.” She tried to urge him to keep moving, but he stared at her face, reading her anxiety.

He frowned then glanced at the table. “You know, it’s p

robably a good idea to try a different table. Stale luck and all,” he said.

“But—”

He interrupted her protest by turning her forty-five degrees. He glanced around, and all the other craps tables she could see were full except one.

He led her to that table. As they approached, someone threw the dice, and then there was a groan and the chips were cleared away. Austin guided her to the table’s edge and slid his arm around her waist, tucking her close to his side.

“New shooter,” the uniformed man hovering around the table called.

The man slid the dice to an attractive brunette in a green dress. She picked them up and tossed them across the table. They bounced jauntily on the table, then rolled to a halt. Twelve. More groans, and the chips were swept away.

“Do you know how to play craps?” Austin asked as he laid a large stack of bills on the table and a casino staffer slid a large stack of chips toward him.

“Not really,” she said, glancing at the complicated pattern of numbers, grids, and words on the red felt of the table. It didn’t help that she was pressed to his hard, masculine body, sending a warm flush through her.

“It can sound a bit complicated, but—”

“It’s okay. Why don’t I watch for a bit to see if I get the hang of it?”

He smiled. “Sure. But feel free to ask questions.”

She nodded. He set three red chips on a strip labeled Pass Line. Several of the other players did the same, including the woman with the dice. She tossed them across the table again, and they bounced to a stop with a three and a six. A staff member slid a white disc labeled On to the nine in a strip of numbers at the top of the table.

Austin placed blue chips on five and six on that same strip.

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