Saving Della-Ray

by Le Carre, Georgia

  Gage turned around. He had Jess glued to his body like a baby, as she worked the sausages that were cooking on the stove.

  “Wow! You guys cooked all this while I was in the bathroom?” I asked while taking the nearest seat.

  “We started even before you were awake, Mommy,” Jess crowed.

  Gage put her down and she made a sad face, so he lowered himself to her eye level and gave her a smile that never failed to melt her or me, for that matter.

  He spoke so softly to her that I could barely hear what he was saying. That was exactly the tone he used on me too. To the rest of the world he had a stern tone, but to those that he had in his heart, he was gentle, intimate, and consuming.

  Jess ran off to carry out whatever errand he had sent her on.

  Then he turned his searing blue gaze on me.

  After all this time, I still felt my heartbeat quicken when our eyes met like this.

  Strands of his silky hair fell lightly down the sides of his face. He’d gotten rid of the beard, but it always made me happy that he didn’t cut his hair after his undercover assignment came to an end. Instead, he had maintained the dark cascade, but had never allowed it to go past his shoulders.

  He was dressed in nothing but the pair of dark slacks that I had peeled off his body last night and the memory jostled me to where all I could think of was having my hands on him again.

  He leaned against the sink, and studied me intently. “Why are you upset?”

  “I’m not upset,” I responded, taking a strawberry from the platter in front of me.

  “Nichole is coming up from Arnault today, isn’t she?” he asked.

  “Yeah, she is.”

  “How is she?”

  A smile spread across my lips. “She’s fine, but she mentioned a secretive, mysterious billionaire who has come to live in Arnault. Apparently, he paid a visit to her gallery. Something about the way she described him made alarm bells ring in my head.”

  He frowned. “In what way?”

  I grinned. “In a good way.”

  I saw him relax then. “Right. Good for her. About time she found someone. Is your sister okay?”

  “Yup, she fine too. She said she would call later to speak to Jess.”

  He came over to sit by my side. Pulling my chair between his thighs, he stared into my eyes. “Back to you. Are you worried about sending your manuscript to the publishers?”

  “Nope, I’ve already decided that if they reject me, I’m just going to self-publish.”

  “So what’s wrong?”

  He looked at me with such concern in his eyes that I felt as if I must be the luckiest girl alive. Who would have ever thought I would get to keep such a gorgeous man with such a beautiful, protective soul … all for little ole me. Over this last year, my love for him had dug in even deeper than I had ever believed possible. Leaning forward, I threw my arms around his shoulders and kissed him. “You’ve ruined me,” I whispered to his lips. “You pay for everything. You take care of Jess and me. I know how expensive Jess’s medical bills are. I could never pay you back.”

  “Repay me? Are you out of your mind? You’re my life. Before I met you and Jess, I had nothing. For years, money just poured into my bank account and I had nothing to spend it on, so I’m happy to spend it on you and Jess.”

  I chewed my bottom lip. “How would you feel about paying for one more person?”

  Before he could respond, we heard Jess’s footsteps as she hurried over clutching two gaily wrapped presents in her chubby hands. “Presents!” she squealed with excitement. “Presents.”

  I kept my gaze on Gage as he went over to get the sausages he’d cooked. “We’ll do the presents later. Let’s eat before the food gets cold. I have to head in to the station in an hour.” He brought the sausages over and placed one on my plate.

  “You fry sausages every chance you get. I can’t believe you’re making us eat them with pancakes,” I teased.

  “I’ll have yours if you don’t want it,” he said and held out his fork.

  I put my body in the way to hide my meal … and that was when I saw it.

  Jess had already opened one of the presents and inside was a small black box. She fumbled with it.

  I pulled my gaze away, my heart pounding in my chest.

  “Jess, you shouldn’t open other peoples’ presents,” Gage said. “That’s Mommy’s, not yours.”

  I returned to my sausage, unable to breathe.

  My little girl however, kept on fumbling with the box until she pried it open.

  I didn’t dare look at Gage and I would never know how the next words flew out of my mouth, “I think I'm pregnant,” I said quietly. “I did a test, but it doesn't mean much. It’s not accurate. You can’t trust these things. I’ll go for a confirmation later today.”

  When he didn’t say anything, I still couldn’t look at him, so I laughed nervously.

  “Della-Ray,” he called. “Look at me.”

  I turned to him then.

  “You just told me the happiest news I could have ever received at this point in my life and yet, you’re not even giving me a chance to receive it. Is that what you meant when you asked whether I could support another person?”

  I nodded.

  I felt him move then and in a flash, he was on a bended knee beside me. “Yes, Della-Ray I can support another person. I can support any amount of little persons you care to bring into this world. Jess, bring Mommy’s present to me, please,” Gage said.

  Smiling, Jess thrust the little black box to him.

  My gaze shot up to him in shock as he opened the box and the gorgeous heart shaped rock inside winked at me like it knew a little secret that it would only share with me. I looked back up at him in a daze as he took the ring out of the box.

  “I’m not giving you a chance to say no,” he said. “So this is not a question. You’re pregnant with my child, so this is the price you have to pay for that.”

  My heart couldn’t take the joy. I couldn’t breathe. I covered my mouth to muffle the ugly crying sounds that were now rapidly working their way up my throat.

  Still on his knee, he pulled Jess over to stand in front of me. Then he began to whisper in her ear, much to her delight.

  “Mommy, will you marry Gage?” she asked. “He loves you to the moon and back.”

  I wanted to cry with happiness. Never could I have imagined that Gage would include Jess in his endearing proposal. I leaned forward and kissed my baby on her lips. Then I whispered in her ear, “I will.”

  Jess squealed with excitement. “I will,” she whispered into Gage’s ear then she stepped to the side so I could see him better.

  Suddenly, I dove for the love of my life and assaulted him with kisses.

  He landed on the floor with me on top of his chest. “I love you,” he growled possessively.

  “Not more than me. Not ever,” I growled right back.

  The End

  I really hope you enjoyed Gage and Della-Ray’s story.

  Nichole’s and her mysterious billionaire will have their story told after

  Nice Day For A White Wedding

  If you feel like reading a sample chapter from Nice Day just keep scrolling…

  Coming Next - Sample chapter

  NICE DAY FOR A WHITE WEDDING

  Chapter 1

  Cindy

  A light tap on my office door makes me look up from my computer screen. I check the time. It’s only ten o’clock. Surely we don’t have trouble already? As the manager of a small London casino, I have seen my fair share of trouble over the years; drunks, bad losers, cheaters, fights, drugs – you name it, I’ve dealt with it.

  But at this time of night? No one has lost big yet and people are at the happy stages of drunk rather than the fighting stages.

  The knock might not mean trouble, but something tells me it does.

  “Come in,” I call.

  The door opens and Stewart, my head of security, steps in. He grins at me as he c
omes over to my desk. So there isn’t a fight then. He wouldn’t be grinning like that if all hell had broken loose.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “You might want to put the cameras on,” he says. “We’ve got a live one.”

  That’s Stewart’s way of telling me we have someone winning big. Now don’t get me wrong, we have big winners now and again, but this is someone who is having enough luck to raise Security’s suspicions. Ninety-nine percent of the time it is someone who has found a way to cheat.

  I open my top desk drawer and pull out a remote control and fire up the bank of monitors on the wall to my right.

  “There,” Stewart says. “On the craps table.”

  He moves to the bank of monitors and points to a man. The man has his back to the camera, but even sitting down, I can tell he’s big. He’s both very tall and very well built. If he gets ugly, he might need all four of my security staff. He doesn’t look rough though. He’s wearing a black suit and I can see it’s an expensive one, so that’s something at least.

  I press another button on the remote control and the bank of monitors showing all of the public areas of the casino becomes one screen showing only the craps table from different angles. Whatever the man is up to, he’s attracted quite a crowd of fans around him. It’s often the case when someone is on a winning streak. Our clientele can’t help enjoying seeing us taken to the cleaners. It’s payback for all the times we take them there.

  The man pushes a large stack of chips forward and nods to the croupier. Sasha looks into the camera before she rolls the dice and I know she’s wondering if we’re watching from the office. Don’t worry Sasha, we’re watching.

  The dice land and the crowd around the table raise their arms excitedly, high five and cheer. They stop short of slapping the big man on his back. By their reactions it is clear he has won big. Again. A voluptuous woman in a long black dress moves in for her own slice of the action and slinks onto the seat next to him. He does not turn to look at her.

  “How many is that?” I ask Stewart.

  “I counted six in a row before I came up here,” he says.

  So that’s at least seven wins. Probably eight or nine by the time Stewart got here and I got the monitor on. Sasha pushes a stack of chips towards the man and I have a quick tally of how many chips he has. There is a little over two hundred thousand pounds in front of him. It’s a lot of money, but it’s far from a cause for panic. Some of our high rollers start with more than that. And of course, he could lose it all on the next roll, but somehow I doubt it.

  I turn to look at Stewart. “But he has only won about two hundred thousand?”

  “I know,” he nods, “and I wouldn’t even have come up here if not for the fact that one of the change guys was going off on his break and gave me the head’s up to keep an eye on him. Apparently, he only started with fifty pounds.”

  This makes me raise an eyebrow. The man’s suit, his quiet confidence and the way he’s throwing big money bets on the table tells me he’s got plenty of money. And guys in a casino with plenty of money don’t start with fifty pounds. Tourists or hen and stag parties start with fifty pounds’ worth of chips. Guys like him start with five or ten thousand pounds.

  Unless they know they can’t lose.

  I watch closely as the man lays on another bet. He pushes his full pile of chips forward and nods to Sasha. A few others follow his lead and push chips into the same box. I ignore those people. They’re just small fry, pushing on a few hundred. They’re not involved in whatever scam the man is running. They’re just taking advantage of what they now feel is a sure bet.

  I curse as the man wins again. He isn’t taking a huge amount of winnings and we can easily foot this kind of loss, but it annoys me because I can’t for the life of me work out what he’s doing. I can spot a card counter at a hundred paces. I’ve seen countless devices that cause havoc on the fruit machines, but the craps table is the hardest one to cheat on.

  I know of only two ways to rig the odds at a craps table. Either have the box person involved in your scam and have them use weighted dice, or attach magnets beneath the table that affect the dice. I know neither of those are happening here. Sasha has worked here almost as long as I have. She was one of my first hires and not only is she loyal, but she’s also adept at spotting and reporting scams. And magnets would have sent an alarm signal to my office the second the man entered the casino, so even assuming he had managed to get them in place, I’d have known about them.

  “What do you think?” Stewart asks me.

  “I think our friend there has found a new way to rig the game, but I’m screwed if I can work out what the hell it is,” I say, shaking my head. “Come on. I think it’s time he met the manager.”

  I grab my keys off my desk and Stewart and I leave my office. I lock the door and we head down the corridor. I have no idea how I can prove the man is cheating, but maybe up close and personal, I’ll spot something. Even if I can’t prove it, this situation still needs dealing with.

  If a person is winning too much I tend to discreetly convince them to try another game, or move to a table with lower stakes. That way if they are genuinely on a lucky roll, there is chance their luck will run out. Naturally if they are cheating they are shown the door and banned for life.

  Stewart and I step out of the elevator and walk along the short corridor to the casino floor. I pause for a second before we go through the door. I run my hands through my straight blonde hair to make sure my hair is in place, then I smooth down my slim-fitted black skirt.

  “You’re going out there to ban a cheater, not go on a date, Cindy,” Stewart mocks.

  I laugh, knowing he’ll never understand what I’m doing. Looking poised and in control is a part of my thing. I have to always look calm and unflappable, and messy hair and a creased skirt just don’t give that impression.

  I push my way through the doors and I am instantly assaulted by noise and activity. Although it is still early the casino is already busy. There are people everywhere and all the fruit machines are taken up. Their whirling reels and the bursts of music as they spin fill the air. Even the more obscure table games are full to capacity. Waiters and waitresses move around the floor with drinks trays. Stewart and I quickly make our way towards the craps table. A cheer comes from the direction we are heading. It sounds like mystery man has done it again.

  Subtlety is going to be the key here.

  I begin to make my way through the thick crowd gathered around the table.

  “Excuse me. Excuse me,” I hear myself saying over and over again.

  Most people move aside easily at my request, but some not realizing I work here and thinking I just want the best view point for the game give me dirty looks. I finally clear the throng and come out beside Sasha and opposite the mystery man which was my exact aim.

  Mystery man has his head down, looking at his chips and I take a second to study him while he is unaware of my regard. He looks even bigger in person with a full head of shiny black hair. From what I can see of his forehead, I would guess he is in his early thirties. I was definitely right about him being from money. He has that casual confidence that only seems to come from having insane amounts of money.

  Which begs the question of why anyone that loaded would risk getting caught cheating a casino out of what is essentially small change.

  He must have felt my eyes on him because he looks up and straight at me.

  Dangerous!

  That is the first thought that flies into my head. The air of danger is all around him. From the unyielding jaw line, to the chiseled cheek bones, to the scar above his left eyebrow. There is a hint of a tattoo creeping out of the collar of his shirt and meeting the raven-black hair…and those stormy gray-blue eyes…they send shivers through my body.

  I find myself staring into them, losing myself in them. There is a depth there that pulls me in, a sensual, sexual charm that sends fire racing through me and makes my clit throb. I subconsciously
push my thighs together and it sends a little shockwave through my pussy. It takes everything I have not to gasp out loud at the sensation.

  For the next few seconds I can’t even think straight. Neither can I break the spell of his mysterious eyes. I just stand there like a brainless goldfish gaping at his presence.

  Dark and stormy. That’s what he is. Dark and stormy and downright dangerous. He curls one corner of his sensuous lip in a mocking smile.

  Being mocked can tear you out of any sexual limbo. It does the job for me. I clear my throat, suddenly hyper aware of where I am, of the crowd around me. No more than two or three seconds has passed since dark and stormy looked up at me, but it feels like he’s held my gaze for hours and I feel myself blushing slightly.

  I force my eyes from his and his grin widens. Somehow, he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. Hell, he probably has this effect on women everywhere.

  “Good evening,” he says to me.

  His voice is low and gravelly, the perfect voice for his looks. The accent is Russian. For some weird, inexplicable reason, I imagine him close to me, whispering in my ear. I can almost feel his breath tickling my neck, his six o’clock stubble scratching my skin in a most delicious way.

  For the love of God, get a grip, Cindy.

  I nod to him and flash him what I hope is my totally professional smile, but his next words stun me into silence.

  “I was wondering when you were going to show up … Cindy.”

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