Let it Ride. Katherine Garbera

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and tried to put on a calm face.

      Attractive men simply didn’t talk to her.

      “Hello,” he said. His voice was deep, not a soft sophisticated sound but a gravelly one that awakened senses she’d thought had gone into a coma.

      “Hi,” she said. Yes, she was the queen of scintillating conversation.

      “Mind if I join you?” he asked. He sat down next to her on the brocade love seat without waiting for an answer.

      “I guess not,” she said wryly.

      “I knew you wouldn’t.”

      “Really? Why is that?”

      “Because of fate.”

      “Fate?” This guy didn’t look as if he left much to destiny. She sensed a will of pure steel under that thousand-dollar suit.

      “Angel, I’m all about chance and luck.”

      “Those are decidedly different from fate.” In response to his raised eyebrows, she stumbled on. “Fate implies that something is destined. Luck—not so much.”

      “Depends on whether or not you’re fated to have good luck.”

      She couldn’t help with smile. He was very charming, though his charm had an air of ritual to it. She had the feeling she wasn’t the first woman to hear those lines.

      “How about dinner?” he asked.

      “I don’t know you,” she said.

      He stood. “Deacon Prescott.”

      She took the hand he held out and tried to shake it, but he grasped only her fingers. With his thumb he caressed her knuckles, then brought her hand to his lips and pressed a warm kiss to the back of it.

      She shivered. More than the hotel had Old World charm.

      “And you would be?”

      “Kylie Smith.”

      “May I join you, Kylie?”

      She wanted to pretend not to be interested, but she was. Before she could answer, he sat down again this time, leaving only six inches of space between them. Kylie felt crowded. He was long and lean, but there was a breadth to his shoulders that made her feel small, delicate even.

      “What are you doing here?” he asked.

      “I’m waiting for someone.”

      “A man?”

      “That’s none of your business.”

      “Fair enough. What brings you to Vegas?” he asked, sliding his arm along the back of the love seat. His heat and scent surrounded her. Tempted to lean into his touch, she scooted farther away, instead.

      “Girls’ weekend out.”

      He gave her a half smile and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She shivered with awareness. She simply wasn’t a touchy person by nature. And it’d had been a long time since anyone had touched her, unless you counted her mom, who always hugged her when they met weekly for brunch.

      “You have beautiful hair,” he said.

      Was he hitting on her? Kylie could never be sure if a man was just being friendly or really interested in her. She wished for a minute she was more like Tina, who flitted from one man to the next, enjoying what each had to offer.

      But she never had been. She’d been raised to believe that settling down and raising a family was a good thing. And it was something she’d always wanted.

      Even after her failed marriage, she still wanted to find the right guy and have kids. But that didn’t mean she wanted to meet him in Vegas. She scooted still farther away and tottered for a moment on the edge of the seat. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

      “Why are you in Vegas, Deacon?”

      “I live here,” he said as if nothing had happened.

      “Do you really? Sorry, don’t answer that. All the bells have rattled my brain.”

      He laughed and it was a kind sound, seeming almost strange coming from a man who looked as dark and forbidding as he did. Jet-black hair and tanned olive complexion. He had large hands. On his pinky was a rough-looking gold ring with some sort of insignia she didn’t recognize.

      Realizing she’d been staring at him too long, she glanced up to see if he’d noticed. He had. He touched her face with one finger. Why was he touching her? She should pull away.

      But she couldn’t. An indefinable emotion in his eyes froze her in place. The intensity of his gaze on her made her feel special. Made her feel as if she was a fairy-tale princess and he was a knight willing to slay dragons for her. Made her feel for once as if she wasn’t staid and safe, but the kind of woman a man would choose for a vacation fling.

      But she wasn’t really any of those things. Her stomach growled and Kylie blushed.

      “My offer for dinner still stands,” he said.

      “I’m reading a really good book,” Kylie said. That had to be the lamest excuse she’d ever come up with.

      “The day a book holds more excitement for a woman than I do is a sad one.”

      “Prepare to cry.” She wanted to say yes. In fact, she thought, closing the book and putting it in her purse, she was going to. But she didn’t want it to be that easy for him.

      “Come on. It’ll be fun,” he cajoled.

      “Fun? I’m not sure I’m ready for fun.”

      “How about friendly?”

      She’d come to Vegas to live a little, and sitting in her room reading didn’t sound exactly exciting. There was something in Deacon’s eyes that promised more than fun and friendly, and Kylie was sick of always being…herself.

      “Sure. I’d love to.”

      “Meet me back here in an hour.”

      “An hour?”

      “Fate takes time.”

      “Then it’s not really fate.”

      He shrugged.

      “What should I be prepared for?” she asked.

      “To be swept off your feet,” he said with a wink and walked away.

      Two

      Deacon returned to the security booth after calling his secretary to find out where Kylie was staying. He was pleased when he discovered she was a guest at his hotel. He’d made arrangements for a picnic dinner to be prepared by the Golden Dreams head chef. He also called the bellman and ordered his Jaguar

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