by Donya Lynne
I let the façade of strength fall. My shoulders stoop, and I wearily shake my head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.” He takes my hand. “I’m not worth you getting hurt over.”
I’m so startled by both his gesture and his words that I jump, my head jerking around so that I’m staring into the twin seas of blue in his eyes. “I lied to you, Max. I lied, I used you, and I stole from you. I regret it. I honestly do or I wouldn’t be here, but how can you forgive me? I’m not sure I could if the roles were reversed, so why would the awful fate awaiting me matter to you? I deserve what’s coming to me.”
His chest expands as he inhales long and deep. “It matters to me because, Nash”—he lifts my hand to his mouth and plants a tender kiss on the back of my fingers—“despite your duplicity . . . your lies . . . your half-truths and the way you used me”—he smirks and raises one eyebrow appreciatively as he studies his fingers caressing mine—“I’m impressed.” He kisses my fingers again. “And I’m kind of, sort of, maybe just a little bit in love with you.”
I don’t dare to imagine I heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard me. I’m in love with you, Nash Miller. Of the three things I lost today—the money, the card, and you—you were the one that hurt the most. I was more angry that you left me than I was about Shaun stealing my money or the fact that you’d taken the SD card.” He lets out a soft chuckle. “You know, as I sat here and listened to you talk, I was more thankful to have you back than I was the card. You, Nash. Yeah, okay, so I was pissed in the bar. I was furious, actually, but that was more an emotional cleansing than anything directed at you.”
“It certainly felt directed at me.” I inch closer, my heart warming to the idea that maybe he and I can salvage the magic we discovered with one another over the past two days.
“I know, and I’m sorry. I just . . .” He clears his throat and fidgets uncomfortably, keeping his head down. “I just haven’t lost someone I cared about in a really long time, and when you came back, everything came crashing together inside my head. The sadness, the anger, the sense of loss, the confusion. All of it. I didn’t know how to channel it.”
Taking a chance, I lean into him and rest my temple against his shoulder. “If it makes you feel better, I’m kind of, sort of, maybe a little bit in love with you, too.”
“Then you’ll marry me tomorrow?” There’s a touch of lighthearted humor in his voice.
I pull back, astonished he still wants to go through with that. “You still want to marry me? After all this?”
“Absolutely.” He winks. “After all, wives can’t be forced to testify against their husbands.”
This makes me laugh. “Do you really think it will come to that?”
“I don’t know, but it sounds good. So, what do you say?”
I suppose there are worse men I could shack up with. Mr. Salazar, for example. And I did tell Max that if he still wanted to marry me Saturday morning, I would.
This has got to be the most insane thing I’ve ever done, but . . .
“Okay, you’ve got yourself a wife, Miles Maxwell Davis.”
The pure smile that sprouts over his face says it all. “Then I owe you a wedding present.” He lets go of my hands then lifts the necklace from around his neck.
I stare in amazed disbelief as he pops open the locket, removes the SD card, and holds it out to me.
“Max, you don’t have to—”
“I want to.” He nudges the card toward my hand. “For once, I want to be the hero. This is my chance. Let me save you, Nash.”
I can tell this is important to him. I can only guess why, but that’s a story I’ll ask him to tell me some other day.
As warily as I would pick up a scorpion, I take the SD card from him. I’m truly not worthy of him. He’s giving up everything to save me. His security, the ace up his sleeve, possibly even his freedom.
I’m so humbled by his selfless gesture that I can’t speak.
“Call your employer. Tell her the card is hers.”
I cautiously wrap my hand around the card, finding my voice. “And . . .?”
“And what?”
“What do you want in return? Surely, you want something.”
He stands and helps me to my feet, taking the card from me and setting it and the necklace on the dresser. Then he takes my hands in his, hugging them to his chest. “I want her and this Mr. Salazar guy to leave you alone. I want them to leave us alone. I want your agreement with Infidelity nulled. I want the million dollars they owe you for a job well done deposited into your account. And I want certain protections if and when we should ever need them.”
“What kind of protections?”
“The kind that keep me—and you—out of prison.”
“What about Shaun?”
“What about him?” His hold on my hands loosens, and I flatten my palms against his chest.
“My employer knows people. Powerful people. Hackers. They can get your money back.”
His gaze burns into mine as he gives a subtle shake of his head. “Let him have it.”
“But—”
“I have everything I want right here.” He winds his arms around my waist. “If three million dollars gets him out of our lives so I can enjoy having you all to myself, without any interference from him, then I’ll take it.”
“What if he comes back and wants more.”
“Then we’ll cross that bridge when it happens.” He seems to think for a few seconds. “So, okay, maybe you can tell your boss that if the time comes when I need to give Shaun a little payback, I’d like her help. In exchange, I’ll offer my own services if she should ever need them. How’s that?”
I smile and place a slow, close-lipped kiss on his mouth, lingering for a moment, and then begin to pull away. “I’ll call her now.”
He grabs my wrist, tugging me back. “No.” I frown as he nudges me toward the bed. “I just got you back, so I get you first. And I think you owe me a dance.”
I laugh. “I do, do I?”
He nods. “Yes, the kind where you show me those long, sexy legs of yours.” He turns on some music. The kind that’s soft yet sensual. Music to take your clothes off to.
“We’re going to be so good together.” He shrugs out of his suit coat then glides his palms over my hips, coaxing me to step into him.
His hands travel over me, caressing me everywhere as his lips tantalize mine.
“You’re more than I ever bargained for, Nash. More than I ever wanted. More than I thought I deserved.”
I slowly release the top closed button on his shirt. “I could say the same thing about you.”
He tugs the neckline of my shirt to the side and kisses my shoulder. “I’m lucky you were the one chosen for this job.” His breath warms my skin while sending an electric chill down my spine.
“I didn’t think you believed in luck.”
He straightens and gives me a playful smirk as my fingers tease the next button on his shirt. “I’ve had a change of heart.”
I grin and push him so that he falls backward onto the bed. “That’s good, because I have a feeling you’re going to get very lucky tonight.”
What can I say? This is Vegas. The city of luck. The city where dreams are real. The only city in the world where deception, betrayal, and suspicion can turn into something good. Something pure. Something that looks and feels remarkably like love.
Is this the end?
Only time will tell.
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BOOKS BY DONYA LYNNE
All the King's Men Series
Rise of the Fallen
Heart of the Warrior
Micah's Calling
Rebel Obsession
Return of the Assassin
All the King's Men - The Beginning
Bound Guardian Angel
Strong Karma Trilogy
Good Karma
Coming Back to You
Full Circle
Standalones
Finding Lacey Moon
Little Things
Standalone M/M Titles
Winter’s Fire
Writing as Dick Hertz
Size Matters, Part 1
Size Matters, Part 2
Size Matters, Part 3
Size Matters, Part 4
Size Matters, Part 5
Size Matters, Part 6
Size Matters, Part 7
Collections and Anthologies
All the King’s Men Vol. 1 (books 1-3)
All the King’s Men Vol. 2 (books 4-6)
Strong Karma Trilogy Boxed Set
ABOUT DONYA LYNNE
Donya Lynne is the bestselling author of the award winning All the King's Men and Strong Karma Series and a member of Romance Writers of America. Making her home in a wooded suburb north of Indianapolis with her husband, Donya has lived in Indiana most of her life and knew at a young age she was destined to be a writer. She started writing poetry in grade school and won her first short story contest in fourth grade. In junior high, she began writing romantic stories for her friends, and by her sophomore year, she’d been dubbed Most Likely to Become a Romance Novelist. In 2012, she fulfilled her dream by publishing her first two novels and a novella. In 2016, she began writing serialized novels under the pen name, Dick Hertz. Her work has earned her two IPPYs, three ELit Awards, a USA Today Recommended Read, and numerous accolades. In October and November of 2015, she had two books hit the Smashwords Top 25 Bestsellers list. When she’s not writing, she can be found cheering on the Indianapolis Colts or doing her cats’ bidding.
