The Gambler

by Denise Grover Swank

  Gram didn’t look pleased. “I wanted to take Noah and Libby out for their wedding dinner. And wedding cake.”

  “I suspect they have other things on their mind,” Nana said with a sly grin. “Especially after what Noah told us earlier.”

  Libby swung her gaze up to her new husband. “What did you tell them?”

  Noah gave the two women a small shove toward the front door. “Thanks for coming to the wedding and I’m sorry about the dinner reservation. Let’s try it again tomorrow night. Say around eight?”

  They nodded as they hurried into their waiting taxi, Gram pausing to shout, “You kids have fun.”

  Noah and Libby stood outside Little Heaven, still holding hands. She glanced up at him, surprised to see he was staring back at her with a look of amazement on his face.

  “What?” she asked, feeling self-conscience.

  He slowly pulled her into his arms. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

  A slow smile spread across her face as warmth filled her chest.

  He kissed her, but this time it wasn’t full of fire and passion. It was soft and gentle, like a welcome home. Tears burned her eyes and she smiled up at him. “Let’s go back to the hotel, Noah.”

  He nodded and was about to flag down a taxi when Paul, the cab driver who’d brought them there, pulled up to the curb.

  He leaned across the front seat and looked up at them through the passenger window. “I figured you two would need a ride after you got hitched.”

  “Thanks,” Noah said as he opened the back door for Libby. He gathered up her skirts and helped her into the car. Then he settled in beside her and took her hand.

  “Where to?”

  “Caesar’s Palace.”

  “Sure thing.” Paul glanced at them in the rearview mirror as he started toward the hotel. “Did you get the big show?”

  Noah laughed. “Yeah, I got the deluxe package.” He tilted his head with an amused gleam in his eyes. “You could have warned us.”

  “And spoil the surprise? Nah . . . But I’m surprised Tito and Angelica didn’t see you off. Tito likes to walk couples to the curb, strumming his harp.”

  Libby broke into giggles. “Tito was a little stuck when we left.”

  “Tried to go back up in the ceiling, huh?” He shook his head in sympathy. “He hasn’t got that one perfected yet.”

  Paul pulled up in front of the lobby and the parking attendant, Ned, greeted them and opened their door. “Did you go to Little Heaven?”

  “We sure did,” Noah said as he helped Libby out of the back.

  “It was a wedding you’ll never forget, am I right?” he asked.

  “Not even when we’re old and senile.” Noah grinned and leaned over to pay the cab driver.

  “Good luck!” Paul said, sliding over in his seat and poking his head out the passenger window. “Getting hitched is the easy part, staying hitched takes work. But I’ve been married to my Annie for nearly forty years and I wouldn’t trade a single day for all the money in the world.”

  “Thank you,” Libby said, giving him a small wave.

  “What room are you kids in?” Ned asked as a group of three women climbed into Paul’s cab. “We’ll send up a little congratulatory gift.”

  Noah took Libby’s hand as he gave him the number.

  Ned winked and sent them off with more good wishes.

  They didn’t say a word as they walked into the hotel lobby, although Libby’s dress drew quite a bit of attention. She realized she was still holding the bouquet, so she lifted it and motioned as if to throw it. A group of women saw her and started squealing with excitement as they formed a group. Laughing, Libby turned her back to them and threw the flowers over her shoulder.

  “I got it again!” Gram shouted.

  A collective groan echoed inside the marbled foyer.

  Libby spun around to see the older woman lift the bouquet over her head like she was a champion boxer. “How . . . ?”

  Noah laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “She and Nana Ruby walked in the door just as you threw it. I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.” He called over to the two women. “Maybe you really are destined to get married in Vegas, Gram!”

  Libby had to wonder if Noah might be right. “Congrats, Gram! I can’t wait to meet your groom.”

  Nana Ruby scowled. “Don’t encourage her.”

  The two grandmothers wandered off in the opposite direction, which was probably for the best considering several of the younger women in the crowd looked like they wanted to tackle Gram.

  They walked to the elevator in silence—the only sounds around them were the voices of the people passing by and the swish of her skirt. A sudden sense of dread filled Libby as she thought about the taxi driver’s words. To her horror, she realized he was right. She’d spent so much time thinking about getting married, she hadn’t stopped to consider marriages could be ended. They might be married now, but he wasn’t permanently attached to her. He could walk away at any time.

  Blair and Garrett’s profession was proof enough of that.

  Noah’s hand squeezed hers. “Lib, you okay?”

  The elevator door opened and she was surprised to find an empty car. They walked inside and she kept her gaze on the doors as they closed, her stomach tying into knots.

  “Lib, talk to me.” The anxiety in his voice caught her by surprise.

  What should she tell him? That she was still scared to lose him? Did she really want to sound so pathetic on their wedding night?

  She put her hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes, searching for answers to the questions she was too scared to ask. She lifted up to kiss him and he covered her hand with his.

  “Lib?” He was more insistent this time, and his face was pinched with worry.

  “I just can’t believe you’re mine,” she repeated his words. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her so senseless that it took her several moments to realize the doors had opened and an older couple was waiting to get into the car.

  “Sorry,” Libby said as Noah pulled her to the side.

  He grinned down at her. “I’m not,” he whispered.

  She smiled back. This was Noah. Her Noah. She knew they were perfect for each other—that she couldn’t find a man who would suit her better.

  Even if her own palm told her differently.

  Sometime between Megan and Blair’s weddings, she’d fallen in love with him. She’d been too foolish and scared to admit it to herself, but some part of her had known for a while.

  Now that the curse had worked out after all, should she worry about the destiny on her palm? Was their marriage already destined to fail?

  The elevator stopped at their floor and Noah tugged her off the car and toward their room.

  She had a choice—she could let her worries consume her and ruin their night, or she could let it go and consummate her marriage to the man she’d never thought she could have.

  She chose to celebrate her new life.

  Noah held the door open with his foot, and with a wicked gleam in his eyes, he bent down and swooped her up into his arms.

  “Noah!” she squealed, laughing. “You’re going to break your back!”

  “Not a chance.” He grinned, looking down. “The bigger threat is me tripping on your dress and crushing you.”

  She pulled up the fabric and shot him a wicked look of her own. “I prefer to have you on top of me in bed.”

  The intensity of his kiss caught her by surprise. So much so she barely noticed Noah swinging the door shut behind them and lowering her until her feet touched the floor. Her arms still clung to his neck and he pulled her so close she couldn’t catch her breath.

  She dropped her hands and unbuttoned his jacket, spreading her palms across his chest, the cotton of his shirt rough under her fingertips. She wanted to feel his bare skin. She wanted to taste it. She wanted to feel it pressed against her own naked body.

  He groped at the rise o
f her ass and she realized he was fumbling with the lacings of her dress. He cursed under his breath and she couldn’t help laughing.

  “You’ll never get it like that.” She turned around and presented her back to him. “It’ll go faster if you can see what you’re doing.”

  He paused for a moment, then she felt his hands at her lower back. “You and this dress are going to be the death of me, Libby St. Clair. I’ll die from oxygen deprivation because all the blood that goes to my brain has gone somewhere else.”

  “Maybe it’s Libby McMillan now.”

  “Not helping,” he grunted as he turned her around and kissed her again. One of his hands cradled the side of her face as the other worked on the strings at the base of her spine.

  She pulled back, grinning. “Who knew changing my name would make you so happy.”

  “You can keep St. Clair if you want, but I have to admit I like the idea of you taking McMillan.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it would be just one more piece of proof that you’re mine.”

  She gave him a gentle kiss and then spun around to show him her back. “Let’s get this off so you can see more proof of what’s yours.”

  He sucked in a breath, and within moments his hands were at her ass again, tugging on the strings, but he moved slower than she expected. She was about to ask why when he bent down and placed a kiss over the skin exposed by the loosened dress.

  It was her turn to suck in a breath of surprise as he continued to loosen the laces, his mouth following the trail. When it was halfway up her back, he stood and slipped his hand into her dress, reaching around to her abdomen, his fingers light on her skin. The tips skimmed down to the top of her panties, making slow circles, before dipping slightly underneath the lacy fabric and rising back up to her stomach.

  “I think you’re trying to kill me now,” she murmured, her eyes closed.

  “No dying yet,” he said, his tongue tracing circles on her back. He rose and his mouth found the base of her neck and moved up to her ear. His one hand was still inside her dress, but the other had abandoned its task of loosening her lacings. The hand in her dress rose to the underside of her breasts, as high as the fabric would allow. He blew cool air below her jaw, then licked and kissed the spot.

  “Noah.”

  “I’ve studied this spot for months, did you know that?” His voice was rough-edged with desire. “When you wore your hair up this summer, I wanted to lean over and taste it. And now I can.”

  “You can taste a lot more if you get this dress off of me.”

  His hand stilled under her breast, then moved to her breastbone and slowly slid down over her belly button, continuing its descent over her panties and between her legs. His mouth concentrated on her neck, finding the spot that made her squirm as his fingers concentrated on gently stroking the cleft between her legs.

  She gasped. Intense heat spread throughout her body, burning hottest between her legs. Her knees weakened and his free arm circled around her front and cupped her breast, his thumb brushing her nipple over the fabric of her dress. His mouth stilled.

  “You’re not wearing a bra.”

  “I didn’t have one,” she gasped while his fingers between her legs focused on the spot that drove her crazy. “My black dress . . . the front . . . I couldn’t wear one.” Something in the back of her head reminded her that she’d left the dress at the wedding chapel, but she didn’t care. She had more important things to worry about.

  The hand between her legs slipped inside her panties and she moaned at the direct contact.

  “You’re so wet,” he murmured against her neck.

  Rather than answer, she reached behind her and found his erection, rubbing the heel of her hand over the zipper of his pants.

  He pressed himself against her and released his own moan.

  She fumbled with his zipper and then the button on his pants, finding it hard to concentrate with the sweet torture his hands were performing.

  “Noah. Dress. Now,” she panted as she climbed higher.

  “Not yet. I rather like making you squirm.”

  “So you’re a sadist,” she teased. “Maybe this should have come up before the wedding.”

  “No. I just like knowing I can make you so wet.” His finger slipped inside her as though to prove his point.

  She gasped again. “I don’t want to come on your hand. I want you inside me.”

  “You can come over and over again tonight, Lib.” His teeth nibbled on her earlobe. “I’ll make you come as many times as you want.”

  His words turned her on even more. “Not the first time.” She moaned as his finger moved in and out of her, the heel of his hand pressing against her mound. “I want you inside me the first time I come with you. I want you to make love to me.”

  His hands stilled and his mouth stopped. For a moment she worried she’d somehow offended him, but then he pulled his hand out of her dress and gently turned her to face him, and the adoration and love in his eyes was undeniable. He cradled her face with both hands and kissed her, his thumbs brushing her cheeks.

  The love in his eyes, in his touch, was nearly her undoing. This seemed like a dream. She was married to Noah. He was hers. She clung to him, worried she’d lose this perfect moment with him, worried she’d lose him. That he’d come to his senses and realize this was all a terrible mistake.

  His hands glided down her neck and over the thin lace on her shoulders, and then reached behind her and started loosening the laces, all while they continued the kiss, his tongue performing a slow dance with hers. Suddenly she felt cool air hit her naked back as he pulled down the dress to expose her shoulders, but it stopped at her upper arms.

  He lifted his head to look down at her. “You have to let go, Lib.”

  She hadn’t realized she was clinging so tightly to him, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go.

  He cupped her cheek and whispered, “Trust me.”

  But he wasn’t just talking about what they were doing physically. He was asking her to hand him her heart.

  He reached up and pulled her hands down, kissing her knuckles and skimming kisses over her wedding ring. Then he lowered her arms to her sides and continued the task of undressing her. He was slow and precise, lowering the dress a few inches at a time, pausing to place kisses on her shoulders, her collarbones, over the swell of her breasts, in the valley of her cleavage. She watched him until she was lost in sensation, closing her eyes so she could enjoy the feeling of him worshipping her.

  The edge of the dress brushed over her bare nipples, making them even more erect. Then his mouth found one and his fingers teased the other. She moaned, tangling her hands in his hair.

  The dress lowered to her waist, his mouth following, then over her hips. After it fell to the floor, leaving her in a puddle of silk and crinoline, his mouth continued its descent, placing kisses over the band of her panties. He rubbed his chin over her mound and she moaned again. Need coursed through her, stronger than she’d ever experienced it.

  He rose and stood in front of her, and as they stared in each other’s eyes, his hands reached behind her and started pulling pins from her hair.

  “God, Libby. You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he removed the last pin and her hair tumbled down her back. “I love your hair up, so I can see your sexy neck, but right now I want it down.” He kissed her again, still gentle but more insistent than before.

  She realized she was completely undressed except for her panties and her heels, while Noah was still completely clothed. She reached inside his jacket and pushed it over his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Breaking free from his kiss, she looked into his dark eyes as they watched her—the expression in them turning her on even more. She was surprised her fingers made quick work of his bow tie, letting it hang loose as she quickly freed his buttons and pulled the shirt free of his pants. She slid her hands inside his open shirt, placing kisses over his chest and the trail of hair leading to the top
of his pants. His chest and abdomen were even more gorgeous than she’d imagined. Her hand followed behind her kisses, partially satisfying her need to touch as much of him as possible.

  She looked up at him, her breath coming in shallow pants at the hunger and lust in his eyes.

  His zipper was undone, so she turned her attention to the still-fastened button. Once it was free, she knelt in front of him and tucked her thumbs into the waistband of his briefs. She slowly slid the fabric of his pants and briefs down over his sexy hipbones, her fingers gliding over his skin. His underwear slid down his erection, and she left open-mouth kisses over his shaft as she made her way down to his scrotum.

  When his pants dropped to his ankles, he reached over and put his hands under her arms, pulling her up, her bare chest against his.

  His hands were everywhere as he kissed her with a hunger she answered. Then they were on the bed and his mouth and hands were driving her to the brink of madness. He grunted and rolled off her, then practically ran to his suitcase to pull a condom out of his toiletry bag.

  When he sank down next to her on the bed, she took it from him and quickly opened the package and rolled it over his shaft, taking him in her hand and stroking. He grunted again and rolled her onto her back, moving over her as he grabbed her leg and wrapped it around his back and plunged into her with one stroke. She cried out in pleasure, arching up to take him. He looked down at her as he took her higher and higher, the hunger in his eyes lifting her even more. They met each other stroke for stroke, a frenzy of passion and fire, need and hunger, until she was sure if she climbed any higher she would pass out from the lack of oxygen. And then she fell apart, letting her love and her need for him overcome her, vaguely aware that he had found his own release. She called his name as she came, wave after wave carrying her somewhere she’d never been before and had never thought she’d ever find.

  Home.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  He stared down at his wife in amazement.

  His wife.

  Her gorgeous dark hair lay in a puddle on the pillow behind her head. Her eyes were closed as she caught her breath, but they fluttered open to reveal the rich dark brown pools he loved to stare into.