like a cool-headed businesswoman.”
She slid him a searching glance. “I appear to share that trait with you, too—you haven’t even placed one bet yet.”
“I don’t gamble.”
“For religious reasons?”
“It’s bad business. I don’t like the odds—I prefer to put down money when I am confident of a healthy return.”
“Now who’s the cool-headed businessman?”
They exchanged smiles.
The croupier called for bets. Laurel hesitated, then shook her head.
Rakin touched her arm. “We’re disturbing the players. Time for us to move on, I think.”
At Rakin’s whisper, Laurel slid off the stool she’d been perched on, and picked up her purse with some relief. “So much for my grand plan to gamble all night.”
“You may discover your second wind after you’ve had a breather.”
“I doubt it.” She flicked him a wan smile. “What I have discovered is how fast one can lose money on the tables. I never understood how easy it is.” And it had given her some sympathy for the black-sheep Winthrop.
Once out of the stilted silence of the exclusive casino, the bustling, busy vibe of Vegas was back with vengeance. Slot machines chimed all around them, their colorful displays flashing brightly. The sick sensation in Laurel’s stomach started to subside.
They found an alcove in the lounge, and Laurel sank onto a plush seat. Rakin gave an order to a cocktail waitress, then joined her on the wide cushion.
“I think my grandfather would’ve approved of you.”
“The same grandfather who brokered your mother’s marriage to your father?”
Laurel nodded. “The very same.”
“And why do you think he would have approved of me?”
“According to my mother, he did his very best to repair the Winthrop family fortune in any way he could before he hit on the idea of the marriage to a Kincaid. It was an absolute rule in my grandfather’s house that none of his children were allowed to gamble. Mom said that he was furious when his eldest brother lost Captain’s Watch after betting on the horses.”
“Captain’s Watch?”
“The Winthrop family beach house.” It had been in the family since the eighteen hundreds. “Grandfather Winthrop paid Dad a visit shortly after Mom and Dad were married—and Dad agreed to do his best to buy it back. I believe it wasn’t easy, and it cost him a small fortune. But it was worth every cent.” Laurel could visualize the view from the wide windows of the beach house out to the sea. When her father’s will was read, Laurel discovered that her father had known exactly how much she loved the beach house: he’d left it to her in his will. “We spent endless summer vacations there. It’s one of my favorite places.”
“Then you must share it with me one day.”
Before Laurel could respond, the waitress returned with a glass of champagne and a frosted cola on a silver tray.
Laurel eyed the glass, then slid Rakin an amused glance. “You’re not intending to get me tipsy, are you?”
Rakin looked a little uncomfortable, and she instantly regretted teasing him.
“No, no,” he denied as he signed for the drinks. “I wanted to remind you that despite your losses on the roulette table, today is all about fun—it’s meant to be a time for new experiences. I wouldn’t deliberately set out to get you drunk.”
Laurel touched his arm.
“Sorry, that was a joke. It was in very bad taste. Of course I don’t believe you’re trying to get me tipsy. Why would you?”
Laurel’s perception was chillingly acute, Rakin decided. He’d hoped a couple of glasses of champagne would make her more malleable.
She leaned forward, and the movement caused light to shimmer across the bare skin above the strapless black gown. It took willpower not to let his eyes linger on the smooth flesh, the kind of willpower he’d been practicing all night.
“Thank you so much for taking the time to come with me to Vegas,” she was saying, and he was conscious of the feather-light caress of her fingers against his jacket. “I am having fun.”
Ignoring the urge to stroke that pearlescent skin, Rakin reminded himself fiercely that this wasn’t a date—it was a business meeting. And it was past time he put his proposal to her. “Las Vegas has met your expectations?”
She lifted her hand, and took a small sip of the bubbling wine, then set the glass down. She smiled warmly at him. “It’s been much better! And that makes me appreciate your company all the more. I do realize you’re a busy man—and you’re getting nothing out of this.”
He hesitated.
The pause stretched too long, and her smile froze.
“Actually there is something I want to ask of you,” he murmured.
Wariness dulled the sparkle in her emerald eyes. “You want something from me.”
Rakin hesitated, searching for the right words.
“Is it sex?”
He blinked. Sex? Had he betrayed himself moments ago?
“Is that why you invited me to Vegas? Was that all that today was about?” she accused scooting away along the seat. “Softening me up to get me into bed?”
He couldn’t deny that he’d been purposely softening her up. Hell, he’d wanted her to be receptive. But not for … sex.
“I thought you were different.”
Laurel was already on her feet, gathering up her purse. In a moment she was going to walk away and leave him sitting here like a fool. And the opportunity would be gone.
“Not sex,” he said quickly.
But she didn’t halt.
“Laurel … don’t go!” He reached forward and caught her hand. Her fingers were stiff with outrage. Before she could yank her fingers free and storm away, he said, “Sex is not what I’m after. Sit down. Listen to my proposition—it has advantages for your family.”
Her fingers stopped wriggling. “A business proposition?”
“Yes.” Rakin knew it was now or never. “I want you to marry me.”
“What?”
Laurel couldn’t believe she’d heard Rakin right.
Shocked, she sank back onto the padded cushions in the recesses of the alcove and stared at the stark figure in the formal suit, his shirt pristine white and collar crisp
