Taken the Spaniard's Virgin
She nodded, agreeing. “It’s not right for my cycle, either.”
Miguel relaxed almost imperceptibly. “That is good to know.”
Only then did she realize that despite his words to the contrary, he’d been worried. But he hadn’t wanted to ruin her first time with concerns. That was just…really sweet. And then there was the way he was worried about hurting her by making love again too soon.
She beamed up at him. “You are a very nice man, Miguel Menendez.”
“Thank you,querida . I try.”
They both laughed.
Miguel enjoyed the casino for the simple fact that it drew a hugely varied clientele, many of whom were not native to the area and therefore affording him a certain amount of anonymity. An added bonus was the realization that Amber had no clue how to gamble. However, it was clear she enjoyed learning…immensely.
And he enjoyed teaching her. It fed his ego to have her turning to him frequently for advice. Upon discovering her novice status, he made the decision not to gamble himself. He wanted to focus completely on enhancing her amusement at his long enjoyed pastime. In doing so, he found himself having more fun than he ever had at one of his favorite haunts.
Though, for the first time in memory, he did not like the looks his beautiful companion received from other men. While he had never dated another woman for the trophy factor hanging off of his arm, he had neve
r been bothered that they drew attention, either. It had fed his Spanish pride even if it had not been a reason for being with them.
Tonight, all he felt was annoyance when other men looked, smiled and damn it to hell if one had not just asked her if she wanted some help.
Miguel put his arm around her waist possessively. “She has my expert advice to lean on,” he said with a smile that nowhere near reached his eyes and in a voice that he used on business enemies rather than associates.
The tall, well dressed blond man, an American by his accent, blinked. He slid his gaze to Amber. “That right? You don’t want any more help learning this here little game?”
She shook her head, her smile too sweet for Miguel’s comfort. “No, thank you. You know what they say about too many cooks in the kitchen spoiling the broth. Too much advice does the same thing in things like this.”
“Well, you sure you want to keep the one you got, sugar?”
Miguel stiffened at the man’s use of an endearment with his Amber. Forget that he often called women by endearments that meant nothing to him. This was his woman. For the next two weeks anyway.
Amber just laughed. “My best friend in college was from Texas. She said the men were friendly—she was right.”
“Some might consider certain types of friendliness as unacceptably forward,” Miguel inserted with lethal coolness.
The Texan smiled, showing a mouth full of even, white teeth. “Point taken, mister. I’ll just mosey on to warmer climes.”
He nodded to Amber and Miguel got the distinct impression he would have been more comfortable tipping a cowboy hat.
Amber slid Miguel a sidelong glance. “Feeling possessive?”
“After this afternoon, do you blame me?”
“Not at all. When other women look at you, I want to get physical and I’m definitely not the type.”
“I am glad to hear I am not alone in this strange reaction.”
“Me, too.”
He smiled, this time the expression far more genuine than when he’d used it on the blond man.
She turned back to her cards and proceeded to lose the next hand. Once new cards had been dealt, she peeked at hers and then, biting her lip in that adorable way she did, she turned questioning blue-green eyes to him. “What do you think I should do?”
She was playing black jack and had been dealt two face cards. She could split her hand, hoping to hit twenty-one with one or both face cards, or hold with the hope that no one else at the table would get the winning combination. “That depends on what kind of risk you prefer to take.”
“I’m not big into risk taking at all…or at least I wasn’t before I met you.”
He grinned. “Good to hear it.”