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Authors: Lauren Jameson

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When her eyes met his own, Alex could almost hear the air between them sizzle. He flexed his fingers, craving the touch of her skin, soft and warm.

“I’m thinking about buying A Casino in Paradise.” He assumed she’d heard of it—Paradise was a small city. He took a sip of his coffee, smirking a bit when he caught her watching the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

She looked at him with confusion clear in her eyes. “Why would you want to buy a casino here? You already have one.”

Alex snorted into his coffee, laughing. He couldn’t help it.

The women who constantly surrounded him like piranhas knew, without him ever having told them, which businesses he owned, where his homes were scattered throughout the world—one had even known the amount in his checking account, with scary accuracy.

He swallowed his laughter when he saw that she was asking a serious question. He wanted to crush her lips beneath his own for her sweetness.

“I own a lot of things, Miss Stone.” Alex studied her face, trying to discern whether he should go into more detail or not. Considering how nervous she’d been when she’d found him sitting at one of her tables, he opted for not.

Her face studied him nervously, searching for a clue as to how she should act . . . wanting to please him.

She did please him, immensely, just as she was. He didn’t want her nervous about it.

Well . . . not
too
nervous.

To lighten the mood, he winked at her. Her face registered surprise, a hint of pleasure, then, as if she’d just remembered something, irritation.

“Why did you let me win that game?”

Taken aback as he so very rarely was, Alex schooled his face into an expressionless mask. “Letting you win a game in a casino would be illegal, Miss Stone. Surely you know that.” How had she known that, against his own sense of morals, he’d considered it, just for her?

He could see that she didn’t believe him, that she was still angry. He wasn’t used to explaining his actions, and it felt strange to try to convince a woman of something.

“I thought about it.” Maddy eyed him narrowly, and Alex very nearly squirmed in his chair under the penetrating gaze. Clearly she wasn’t the type of woman to hold with actions that registered in shades of gray. “But then I decided that I couldn’t rob you of the victory of whatever it was you’d set out to prove that night. You won fair and square, babe, all on your own.”

Maddy blinked, weighing his words. Her anger seemed to evaporate into thin wisps that floated away softly, replaced with pleasure and pride.

She was so damn cute. Just looking at her, he saw why he would have risked setting up the game for a woman who was a stranger.

Maddy opened her mouth, looking like she was about to say something—what, Alex would never know. She was interrupted.

“Here’s your table’s bill, Maddy.” From over her shoulder came the vinyl folder with the slip of white paper sticking out. The person behind her was the pissed-off man from behind the counter.

He placed a protective hand on her shoulder—he was marking his territory. Irritation washed through Alex as Maddy shrugged uncomfortably, trying to dislodge the touch.

The other man’s message was all too clear—run along now.

“Thanks, Joe.” Maddy’s voice was calm, but Alex picked up on the thread of irritation. “I’ve got it.”

From behind her, the man named Joe huffed out a sigh, hesitated, then stomped away, muttering under his breath. Maddy exhaled slowly, then slid the vinyl folder over the table.

She didn’t seem to want him to go any more than he wanted to. She also still wasn’t ready for him to make a move. The woman was nervous, as if she might take flight at any moment.

Though he wasn’t at all accustomed to delaying his gratification, Maddy appealed to him on so many levels that he swallowed his desire down and pushed back his chair.

Not bothering to look at the total, Alex meticulously placed a twenty-dollar bill with five hundred-dollar bills hidden beneath inside the vinyl folder. From the corner of his eye, he saw Maddy shake her head a bit, probably at his lack of concern with money.

Alex ignored it. He had more money than he could spend in his lifetime, and every day he made more. He found that he wanted to lavish it all on this woman, if only she’d let him.

“As I was saying.” Alex handed Maddy the billfold. Though he was tempted to brush his fingers over hers, he needed to cool down in order to leave, rather than heat up.

“Yes. You’re looking at a casino in Paradise.” Maddy tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear, gaze flickering quickly away and then coming back to rest on his.

Alex stood, though the look in her eyes made him want to nibble on her lower lip. Deliberately, he kept his next words light, trying his best not to scare her off.

“I could use a local’s opinion.” He shrugged on his jacket, his favorite, made of well-worn chocolate-brown leather.

He saw Maddy eyeing it, and unbidden, an image of her wearing nothing but the jacket flashed through his mind.

He swallowed his groan.

“I don’t know if I count as a local. I haven’t been here for all that long.” Though he could see on her face that she thought she’d stuck her foot in her mouth, Alex still felt a whisper of exasperation. It figured that the one female who intrigued the hell out of him was the one who would make him work for it.

From the pocket of his coat he withdrew a business card and a pen and proceeded to write his cell number, the pen digging deep into the pristine white paper.

When he handed it to her, Maddy’s fingers brushed tentatively over his. He felt the light sensation like a full, heated kiss, making the air around them sizzle.

He looked into her eyes as he handed her the card, enjoying the flicker reflected in the blue depths.

“In case you change your mind.” Alex cocked his head, studying her, then reached out and brushed his fingers through that loose lock of hair that kept escaping her ponytail.

“Damn.” His voice was a whisper, and he felt perplexed.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt unsure around a woman. It was a strange sensation, and one that he wasn’t entirely certain that he liked. His brow furrowing over the notion, he nodded, breaking the spell of the moment.

The dry air of the desert outside didn’t help him clear his head.

He wanted Madeline Stone.

He would do whatever it took to have her.

CHAPTER THREE

M
addy wouldn’t have told anyone about the five-hundred-and-ten-dollar tip that Alex had left her on a ten-dollar meal, would have just called him and tried to give it back, but Susannah had spied it peeking out of her apron pocket late in the afternoon and had pestered her until Maddy spilled the entire story. Her friend had urged, “He’s interested. He’s so interested. Call him.”

The five hundred-dollar bills now sat in the middle of her coffee table, the visage of Benjamin Franklin staring sternly up at her.

Having never come across the situation before, Maddy had also contemplated telling Joe. But then she’d thought about the pissing contest the two men had gotten into in front of her, and she’d sealed her lips shut, though she felt incredibly strange about it.

Obviously five hundred dollars was less than pennies to Alex. But it didn’t feel right to take it.

Something told her that Alex would be less than thrilled if she tried to give it back.

“Make a date and then go shop for something sexy with that money.”

“Susannah.” Maddy filled her name with as much exasperation as she could muster, which wasn’t much, because she was still stunned.

He was interested. She had to agree.

But
why
?

She was a little apprehensive wondering what he was expecting with his big “tip.”

“Do men like him even date?” Maddy couldn’t picture Alex Fraser at the movies, eating soggy popcorn, his Italian leather shoes sticking to discarded bubble gum on the floor.

“What, you think the man’s a monk?” Susannah snorted out a laugh, then continued to rummage through Maddy’s closet. She had insisted on helping Maddy decide what to wear on the date that Maddy didn’t even yet have.

From the size of the pile of “no” clothing in Maddy’s lap, she was pretty sure that she’d be attending the so-called date naked.

An image of Alex Fraser naked, his muscled body offered up for her exploration, popped into her mind unbidden. Her mouth suddenly felt cottony, and she reached for the water that was set on her bedside table.

She thought that she might not mind a naked date if it meant that he was naked, too.

“Of course I don’t think he’s celibate.” No, Maddy thought that he probably had a harem . . . or a supermodel for a girlfriend, or maybe even a wife.

No, not a wife. Though she didn’t really know the man at all, something about him—she couldn’t quite put her finger on what—told her that there was no wife waiting at home.

Maybe it was the concern he’d displayed when she’d burned her hand. Maybe it was the way that he looked at her, as if she were the only woman on the face of the planet. Maybe it was the way he’d purchased a hideously expensive bottle of wine for a woman he didn’t know, when plenty of other women in that same room wouldn’t have even needed a bottle of beer before sucking his cock.

The image
that
brought to mind made her blush. She knew her red cheeks would give her away to Susannah, and she didn’t think she could stand another inquisition. The only way to beat her friend at her game was to play along.

“Fine. I’ll call him.” Susannah squealed with delight and tossed the bright blue blouse she was holding to the floor. With record speed, she threw Maddy her cell phone—Maddy didn’t have a landline—and flopped on the bed alongside her, preparing to lean in close enough to hear Alex’s side of the conversation, Maddy was sure.

“Clean up that mess you made.” Maddy pointed back to her closet. When Susannah pouted, Maddy froze for a second, wondering if she’d gone too far.

It had been a long time since she’d hung out with a girlfriend. She was out of practice. She and Susannah had always gotten along well enough, but they’d never spent any time together outside of work until that afternoon.

The pout turned to an exaggerated grimace, Susannah sticking her tongue out at Maddy in a way that made startled laughter bark from her throat. Seeming completely unoffended, Susannah shifted over maybe an inch on the bed and then started folding the things that she’d piled on Maddy’s lap.

“I know your game. Over there.” Maddy pointed again. Calling Alex Fraser was a big enough deal to make her heart race on its own. If Susannah were in her face, hanging on her every word, she would never even hit send.

Maddy went one step further and locked herself in the tiny bathroom down the hall. It was small, the only bathroom in the cramped apartment. Perching on the closed lid of the toilet, she bit her lip, then speedily dialed the number that she now had memorized and hit send.

One ring. Two.

“Fraser.”

Holy shit. He answered. The sexy billionaire answers his own phone. Somehow Maddy hadn’t counted on him actually answering—she’d thought she would get an answering machine or an underling, or something.

“Hello?” His voice was a bark, and the nerves in her stomach intensified.

“Um, yes. Mr. Fraser? This is Maddy—er, Madeline Stone. The . . . uh . . . the waitress? From the diner?” Suddenly she was certain that he would have no idea who she was.

“Miss Stone.” His voice softened and warmed, sliding over the syllables of her name, making them sound as tasty as melted chocolate.

There was a pause, one that she knew he and his charm and people skills could have filled effortlessly. Instead he waited, pressing her to say something else.

“You . . . you mentioned you could use some company? To look at a casino?” Maddy grimaced as she spoke, feeling as though she’d been transported back to junior high school.

“What are you asking, Miss Stone?” He knew exactly what she was asking—she was sure of it—but for some reason he wanted her to say it.

Maddy squirmed.

“Would you still like company while you look at a new casino?” She felt a bit like she was asking for permission.

“If that is what you want.” His voice was still warm, practically oozing sexiness, but his words confused her.

If it’s what she wanted? So . . . what did he want?

“Um . . . yes. I’d like to see you.” She didn’t know what else to say, or even what she was answering, exactly. There was a minute’s pause, and she heard him murmuring in lilting tones to someone at the other end, and she wondered whom he was with.

“Tomorrow afternoon. Four p.m. I will send my driver for you. Wear jeans.” It sounded like he was taking the phone away from his ear, and she was left reeling again.

It all sounded fine, except for one thing.

“Wait!” There, he was back. She could hear his breath.

“Yes, Miss Stone?”

Maddy couldn’t tell if he was exasperated or amused. “I’ll meet you there.” The number one thing that her older sister had always taught her about dating was to take her own transportation. She knew better than to find herself alone in the car with a boy—a man—if she didn’t know without a doubt that she could trust him.

Well, Alex Fraser was no boy—he was most definitely all man. But though her gut told her she could trust him, really, she didn’t know anything about him.

Driving her own car was a smart decision.

On the other end of the line, she could hear Alex sigh. This time she was fully aware that it was a noise of irritation.

“I would like to extend to you the courtesy of my driver and car.” Although his voice was deep and sexy, in this stilted conversation he sounded like someone straight out of the pages of
Pride and Prejudice
, and Maddy briefly pictured him in tight pants like those worn by Colin Firth.

Bad Maddy. Bad. Pay attention. You’re not going anywhere if he insists on his car.
It was enough that she was agreeing to go see him, something that had the potential to throw her into a tizzy if she obsessed about it too much.

“Thank you, but it’s not necessary. I’ll drive myself there.”

There was another pause, and when he replied, his voice was clipped. Was he angry? Surely she hadn’t done anything to make him angry. She’d thought maybe he would be attracted to her more confident self, rather than the awkward version he’d met at the diner. “Very well, Miss Stone.” He
did
sound angry. Maybe he thought she’d been rude, refusing his generous offer.

His demeanor was disconcerting. Did she even want to spend time with someone who would get upset over something so small?

“You owe me one, Maddy.” His voice had softened as well, and it was low and full of promise.

She shivered, in a very good way.

“The rest, however, is nonnegotiable. Four o’clock. A Casino in Paradise. Wear jeans.” And then he was gone, having reverted back to his formidable self with his parting words.

Maddy hugged herself with glee, though she didn’t quite understand why. Oh, that was a lie; she did know. Something about Alex inexplicably drew her to him, magnet to metal. What she didn’t understand was why, after she had become so comfortable in her own little cocoon. He’d stirred a part of her that she almost didn’t recognize after so long.

Well, she would take the happy feelings where they came. Heaven knew they’d been in short supply over the last year. Maddy did a little booty shake in the privacy of her bathroom, enjoying the moment, as she put the phone down on the counter and rose from her seat on the lid of the toilet.

Then she realized something.

Shit.

Four o’clock at a casino in Paradise? He didn’t say which one.

Shit.

•   •   •

“A
Casino in Paradise. Very funny.” Maddy was a little irritated when she marched up to Alex in the lobby of the casino. Her spirits had hit rock bottom when she’d thought that he had perhaps not wanted her to tag along with him after all and had deliberately not given her the name. Before calling him like a lovesick schoolgirl, though, she at least had the presence of mind to hit the Internet connection on her phone.

She’d searched on the Internet for “casinos in Paradise, Nevada.” The only hit was for the tacky joint in which she now stood.

Alex appeared to be entertained. He was wearing the kind of blue jeans that she just knew were from some high-end department store, a white T-shirt, and that battered leather jacket. His eyes were hidden by dark aviator sunglasses, the name of some French brand that she’d never heard of emblazoned on the temple.

She imagined that this was his idea of blending in. If only he understood that with his fallen-angel face, his ridiculously toned body, his sexy-as-hell smirk, he would
never
look like he belonged with the tourists, the showgirls, the sweaty businessmen who frequented this kind of place.

Maddy pulled her stare forcibly away from his face. She couldn’t see his eyes behind the dark glasses, but she was sure he was looking straight at her.

It was unnerving not having even a clue to what he was thinking, and she was unnerved enough just being there. She’d gotten lost on her way there, and though it turned out she was only a block away, it had been enough to send panic coursing through her veins.

She told him about none of that, though. She wanted to show her best self to him.

“Hello, Miss Stone.” His voice was low and husky. “You look sexy in heels.”

What?

“I’m wearing jeans, as you requested,” Maddy remarked as she stared at her feet. She’d painted her toenails so that they would look nice in her sandals, but the glossy red now seemed ridiculous, like she was trying too hard. She should have stuck with her usual pale pink.

Alex followed her stare down. She squirmed under what she assumed was scrutiny—she still couldn’t tell, because he had those damn sunglasses on.

He looked back up to her face, and suddenly she felt hot, though she couldn’t see his eyes.

“What?” Maddy stuffed her fingers into her pockets, then took them out again.

Before she could form a reply, he was moving, finally removing those sunglasses, but now his face was carefully blank.

“Let’s go.” He replaced the shades with spectacles and started to walk toward the entrance to the gaming floor.

Maddy felt her insides melt. She had
such
a thing for a good-looking man in glasses.

Trying not to drool, she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. It had been two years since she’d worked as an optician, but she was pretty sure that his glasses weren’t real. There was a glare from the lights shining off of the clear plastic, which most prescription lenses—especially lenses belonging to someone who could afford all the bells and whistles—no longer had.

“Are you nearsighted?” Startled, Alex stopped in his tracks next to her, his sexy mouth frowning. Maddy couldn’t help the small wash of satisfaction, that she’d managed to catch him off guard, something she didn’t think many people managed to do.

“As a matter of fact.” He studied her intently.

“But those aren’t real.” Maddy was confident she was right.

“They don’t look good?” And there it was, a first thread of vulnerability that made him seem like a real human instead of a god.

Maddy was quiet for a moment before telling him the truth. “They look great.” Well, it wasn’t actually the entire truth. If she told him
that
, then she would have to let it slip that those little wire-rimmed frames perched on his nose made her hot in a way that she’d never been before.

She still didn’t understand it. All she knew was that she wanted him and that the wanting couldn’t be good for her.

Maddy caught him studying her face for a long moment, as if to ascertain some truth there, one that she wasn’t sure she knew herself. Eventually, he took her hand and led her across the lobby. His palm was warm and dry against her own clammy one, and he rubbed the base of her thumb absently with his own as they walked.

A rush of nerves and excitement nearly knocked her to her knees. She hadn’t been touched with such simple pleasure in . . . oh, it had been so long. And there was something between them that was getting harder and harder to ignore, something intense, something intoxicating.

Maddy snuck a sidelong glance at Alex. He was looking at her straight on—no sneaky glances for him. His lips were frowning, just a slight bit, but his eyes told her that his mind was just as far into the gutter as her own.

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