The Millionaires’ Club: Ryan, Alex & Darin

by Cindy Gerard / Cathleen Galitz / Kristi Gold

A moment later they joined the ranks of seasoned tourists pushing and shoving to get the best view of the nightly show the casino provided free of charge in hopes of luring the bulk of the throng inside afterward. It featured a battle between two ships in the waters off the Caribbean. The young man who played the part of the pirate was extremely dashing. The boom of cannons made Stephanie jump. She gasped to see the young man’s dramatic death scene when he plunged into the water from an astonishing height as his ship went down.

  Although Alexander found the show cheesy, he knew his companion was entranced. In fact, Stephanie was so intent on being able to see that she didn’t protest when he wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her off the ground so she could get a better view. Only after the show did she remember to grace him with that enchanting blush that he was coming to appreciate as a true indicator of her feelings. He couldn’t help but wonder if someone so limited in her exposure to the world outside Royal, Texas, would be able to disguise her lack of sophistication when the time came to make their move among hardened criminals.

  They proceeded to their hotel without any further stops, though Alex made a mental note of all the sights Stephanie wistfully mentioned that she’d love to visit. To his amusement they included a roller-coaster ride at the top of a casino at night, a magic show featuring white tigers that were plastered on billboards all over the city and a ride in a gondola in the faux Venetian part of the Strip.

  “Don’t you want to gamble?” he asked.

  All the women he knew enjoyed gambling with his money, and he’d brought plenty along to fill the time and add credibility to their cover. Besides he seldom lost at the poker table.

  “Maybe a little,” Stephanie admitted, wondering how far twenty dollars in nickels would last her.

  The Lost Springs Casino, like other popular gambling spots, boasted a theme. Stepping into the lobby was a trip back to the turn of the century when the California gold rush made millionaires out of drifters, and enough gold dust sifted through the cracks of saloon floors to build one fabulous mansion after another along the re-created streets of San Francisco’s posh Nob Hill.

  Overwhelmed by all the lights and noises associated with such a high-dollar gambling operation, Stephanie mutely allowed Alexander to lead her to a front desk carved out of cherry wood. Behind it an antique gilt mirror ran its distance end to end. He checked them in as Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Kent at the hotel’s finest honeymoon suite for the next two weeks without so much as batting an eyelash, and paid a bellboy to take care of their luggage. The desk clerk, decked out in authentic garb, offered the couple his congratulations and promised to send up a complimentary bottle of chilled champagne to celebrate their wedding day.

  Stephanie blanched. If it wasn’t already obvious that she was less worldly than the greenest ingenue, just wait till her husband found out just how modest she really was. Had she thought to bring along an old bathrobe that covered her from the neck to toes, she would have hidden every scrap of expensive exposing lingerie he’d bought beneath it. Since it was unlikely that the honeymoon suite boasted more than one bed, Stephanie assumed sleeping arrangements would be awkward, no matter how gallant Alexander might prove to be.

  And having sampled his kisses earlier in the day, she had doubts about just how chivalrous he might prove to be under the circumstances.

  He pressed a key into her hand and felt the tremor that ran through her. Then he smiled at her with such understanding that it made her want to burst into tears. She hated being so transparent.

  “Would you like to spend a little time in the casino before heading up to our room?” Alex suggested.

  Stephanie nodded her head gratefully.

  “Let me get you some chips, and I’ll be right back.”

  “Wait a minute,” she said, putting a hand out to stop him. She dug in her purse and pulled out a fifty-dollar bill—more than twice what she had intended to spend. However, if that amount would prolong the time before the agony of accompanying him to bed until the wee hours of the morning, the extravagance would be worth it. With her luck, Stephanie figured the one-arm bandits would gobble up all her money in record time without a single payout.

  Alexander refused to take the crumpled bill she held out to him. He gave her a crooked smile in return.

  “I don’t mean for you to spend your own money, sweetheart,” he said, folding her hand back over the money before heading to the cashier’s cage and leaving her to her own devices for a moment.

  In the din of deafening background noise, the sound of his parting endearment was easy on the ears. Stephanie couldn’t believe how incredibly sweet Alexander was acting. Although acting was the operative word, she wondered if it was possible that he wasn’t really the rogue she had made him out to be in her own mind. Never before had a man treated her like a precious object, publicly cherishing her and indulging her every whim. Phony or not, it did wonders for a woman’s self-esteem.

  By the time Alex returned, someone had thrust a complimentary drink in Stephanie’s hands and she was studying a slot machine trying to figure out how many nickels she should feed it to maximize her bet. It was all he could do to keep from laughing at the earnest expression on her face. It was all he could do to keep from taking her in his arms and hustling her off to their room where he could have her all to himself. The thought tightened his guts and made him feel as nervous as a pubescent boy on his first date.

  Pressing a roll of hundred-dollar chips into her hands, he asked if she would like to accompany him to the tables. Unaware of how much money was at stake, Stephanie gave him a skeptical glance.

  “Are you sure you know what you are doing?” she asked.

  Alex responded on a teasing note. “So sure I’ll make a wager with you that at the end of the night, I’ll have more of my stash left than you do of yours.”

  Looking at the roll of chips in her hands, Stephanie figured since it was not her hard-earned money, the worst that could happen was that the awkward time in which they checked into their mutual room would be momentarily postponed. Truly, Stephanie had nothing to lose.

  “What’s the wager?” she asked, leveling a suspicious look at him.

  Surprised by her willingness to take such a risk, he leveled his emerald eyes right back at her. They twinkled with mischief.

  “If I win, you let me see you in one of those gorgeous nightgowns that I bought you.” He held up a hand at her protest. “Mind you, I said nothing about touching—although that’s an option if you’d like it to be. I’d just like to see you wearing something as beautiful and soft as my new bride herself.”

  Stephanie didn’t know whether she should slap the man or melt beneath his compliment. Indeed, the wager was as tempting as it was terrifying.

  Having packed nothing but the new clothes Alex had bought her, there was little risk on her part. Surely if they were to be spending the next two weeks sharing a hotel suite, the man was bound to see her in nightwear. Any reasonable woman would take the bet and consider herself the winner whatever the outcome.

  “And if I win?” Stephanie pressed.

  “Anything you want,” was his unqualified reply.

  Stephanie thought for a moment. Of all the things she could ask for, she thought it would be fun to choose something that would be nigh onto impossible for Alexander Kent to deliver. It was something that all women desire but lack the nerve to come right out and ask for it for fear of looking petty.

  “If I win,” she said, looking him directly in the eye, “I want you to take me to a dinner show of my choice.”

  This time she held up her hand to stop him from accepting before he heard the rest of her terms.

  “And,” she added, “no matter how gorgeous all the women onstage and in the audience are, you have to treat me like I’m the most beautiful one in the place.”

  Having expected something monetary in nature, Alex thought it the strangest request in the world.

  “I can do that,” he said, not missing a beat.
“And I’ll do my best to make you believe it, too.”

  He stooped to take her hand in his. Lifting it to his lips, he sealed the deal with a kiss. The tremble that ran through Stephanie shook through him as well.

  Two hours later, Alex threw in his cards, disgusted by the most dismal luck he’d ever had. Fate seemed to be conspiring against him. He checked his watch before pocketing his handful of remaining chips. After an exhausting day, he expected Stephanie was as worn out as he was. It was time to call the bet, and let the chips fall where they may.

  The thought of losing his ridiculous side wager left him disappointed that no amount of liquor could soothe. The truth was, Alex had made that bet with Stephanie simply to put her at ease about the necessary arrangements of cohabitating for the duration of their mission. He couldn’t bear the thought of watching her dive beneath the covers every night in a desperate attempt to keep him from getting a glance at her in her nightgown. Someone of her sensibilities might go so far as to wrap a sheet around herself or drag out some awful bathrobe to maintain her chaste image.

  Several of the nightgowns Alex had purchased earlier in the day seemed modest enough. Even if Stephanie chose the most risqué item she owned, he hoped she didn’t imagine that he was going to lose all self-control and ravage her. Alex wasn’t the type of man who forced himself on any woman, especially one as chaste as Royal’s most dedicated librarian. One as clearly inexperienced and panicky about her own sexuality. One as utterly adorable in her excitement over the things that had long ago lost their luster for him. One as completely unaware of how beautiful she really was.

  As Alex stood up to go, he heard the sound of a woman yelling across the noisy casino. It was an all-too-familiar voice.

  Avoiding games requiring any semblance of skill, Stephanie had exchanged a portion of her chips for a plastic bucket of silver dollars. One hundred of them to be exact. Not wanting to spend any more than that amount over the course of the night, she’d vowed to pay Alexander back if she lost it all.

  That wasn’t going to be an issue. Alex watched Stephanie attempting to catch the overflow of coins spilling out of a slot machine. She was jumping up and down beneath a flashing rainbow of lights, bells were ringing, and the sound of a jackpot drew spectators from all directions, hoping some of that good luck would magically be transferred to them. The chorus of the song she was chanting went something like this: “Five thousand dollars! I just won five thousand dollars! Can you believe it? Five thousand dollars!”

  As much as Alexander hated to lose at anything, it was worth the cost of his pride to see her in such high spirits. Her eyes sparkled even more brightly than the diamond flashing on her hand. That he had spent more than her winnings on her trousseau alone didn’t seem to take away from Stephanie’s conviction that she had just come into a small fortune. When Alex stepped up beside her to offer his congratulations, she threw her arms around him and restated the obvious.

  “I won!”

  “I see that,” he said wryly. “I guess that means I won’t be seeing you in your pj’s anytime soon.”

  Wrapped in her arms, her laughter, and that haunting, subtle fragrance she favored, the penalty for losing that particular bet seemed truly lamentable. Had she not looked like someone who had just singlehandedly bagged Santa Claus himself, Alex might have taken his defeat even harder. As it was, the prospect of having to pay up didn’t seem much of a challenge. He suspected that Stephanie would be as awed by whatever show they went to see as she was by every other aspect of Vegas. As jaded as he was, Alex couldn’t help but be charmed.

  For all Stephanie’s jubilation, one would think she had just won five million dollars instead of five thousand. The effect of that paltry amount made Alex recall how good it had felt to close his first big deal on his own—without any help from a father who saw no need for his son to work for a living. Stephanie wasn’t as immune to the allure of money as she’d led him to believe. And it pleased him to see her so overjoyed at winning some pocket change.

  “Today must be your lucky day,” he told her. “Wish I could say the same, but I’m afraid Lady Luck has been stingy with me.”

  Alex hadn’t thought her dazzling smile could get any bigger. He was wrong.

  “Do you mean to say that I beat you tonight using only my seed money as the minimum ante while you were at that high-stakes poker game where I left you a little while ago?” Stephanie gloated.

  Alex shook his head with regret. “You bested me fair and square,” he admitted.

  Stephanie threw her own head back and laughed, triggering a cascade of hair to fall in shimmering waves about her glowing face. Taken aback by the sight, Alexander wondered how it was possible that he ever considered this woman plain.

  She gave him an enigmatic smile. “Don’t you think it’s about time we go to bed?” she asked.

  The comment caused Alex’s eyes to glow with feral anticipation.

  “At last I’ve been dealt a winning hand,” he murmured, holding out hope that if he were to play those cards right, they might both come out big winners before their wedding night was officially over.

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  Six

  Alexander spread a blanket over the sleeping form of the angel curled on top of his bed and sighed. Stephanie had been so exhausted and giddy over her winnings that she had barely made it across the threshold before she was asleep. Pausing only long enough to kick off her expensive pumps, she mumbled, “I’m beat,” over a most undignified yawn as she stumbled into bed without pausing to pull the covers back.

  So much for any honeymoon fantasy the bridegroom had been entertaining.

  Next to the bed a complimentary champagne bottle bobbed in a bucket of melted ice. For some reason it reminded Alexander of the Titanic. Absently, he peeled the expensive label off the bottle and considered drinking the wine alone. After all, what man doesn’t deserve a toast on his wedding night? Especially one who wasn’t going to get the chance to consummate his marriage?

  When he’d first accepted this assignment, Alex hadn’t expected to even like Stephanie, let alone be so attracted to her that he was fighting to control the lustful thoughts racing through his mind as he dutifully tucked her into bed. She was too tired to protest. He had never imagined what a good sport this prim librarian could be: surrendering herself to snobby salesclerks, pretentious beauticians and nosy gossips with such grace and good humor that it made him want to slay every dragon that stood in her way. Her obvious delight in the things that the well-to-do took for granted let him see the world with fresh eyes. It was virtually impossible to feel cynical around such a woman.

  Her kisses left him sitting in the dark feeling more aroused and sexually frustrated than any other time he could remember. Stephanie Firth might just be the finest actress since Sarah Bernhardt to ever grace the stage, but she would never be able to convince him that her physical response to him was anything less than genuine.

  Alex was a man who recognized honest emotion when he saw it.

  And passion when he felt it.

  Unfortunately, the instant he’d opened the door to their suite, Stephanie only had eyes for the king-size bed that dominated the room. Not that he could blame her. Even for an ex-FBI man, it had been an exhausting day—and he hadn’t been the one who had been forced to endure a makeover from head to toe.

  He studied her sleeping form in the reflection of lights making Las Vegas glitter outside their penthouse window. When he finally grew weary of torturing himself, Alex drew the curtain shut and considered his own sleeping arrangements. Along with a couple of chairs, there was a couch that looked about as inviting as a cold Texas bedroll beneath a winter’s sky. That plush oversize bed and its sole occupant beckoned to him. Since Stephanie was still dressed and tucked beneath the covers, she surely wouldn’t mind if he fell asleep beside her. Especially if he remained on top of the covers and left his pants on for good measure.

  If not, she could always divorce him first thing in
the morning.

  Stephanie awoke groggy and disoriented in the city that never sleeps. A dull headache reminded her that she was unused to consuming so much champagne in one day. The sound of someone snoring softly beside her caused her eyes to fly open wide in dismay as she struggled to remember where she was. Who she was.

  The clock on the bed stand read 11:15 a.m. in green, glowing numbers. A man’s bare arm was draped across her chest. She peeked beneath the covers to check her state of dress and was immensely relieved to discover that she had all her clothes on. Satisfied that she had not been compromised, she considered the best way of extricating herself from such an embarrassing position.

  She rolled over to face Alexander, intent on gently rousing him from his sleep. The movement didn’t put so much as a dent in his deep, regular breathing pattern. She struggled to remove his hand from its intimate position where it rested on the swell of her breast. Feeling like mush inside, she was glad that Alexander was a heavy sleeper. She didn’t want her involuntary physical response to give away the deep longing she felt. With his eyelids closed, Stephanie felt safe studying his features up close. Even in his sleep, the man was devilishly handsome.

  Stephanie brushed a lock of his dark mahogany hair away from his forehead. It felt soft to the touch. She put the pad of her forefinger to his chin and tested the texture of the stubble growing there. As a little girl, she remembered the feel of her daddy’s whiskers against her cheek when he came home late from working a double shift down at the local lumber mill. He would sweep her up in his big arms and swing her up in the air so high that she could touch the ceiling. Nothing had been more reassuring than his bear hugs and those long ago whisker rubs.

  Years had passed since the day of his funeral, and still Stephanie lamented the feeling that she had been robbed of a proper goodbye.

  In the far recesses of her mind, she could hear her mother demanding that she remove herself from this stranger’s bed immediately. For once, Stephanie ignored the strident internal voice that had directed so much of the behavior that led others to find her aloof and reserved. For all the maternal and well-intended warnings about how men wanted nothing more from her respectable little girl than sex, her mother herself had enjoyed the intimacy of loving a man, if only for a few short years.