The Winning Hand

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Authors: Nora Roberts
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paint warm brown mud on her breasts. “Oh!”
    “Too warm?”
    “No, no.” She would not blush, she would not blush, she would
not
blush. “What’s this for?”
    “To make your skin irresistible.”
    “Nobody’s going to see it where you’re putting it on,” Darcy said dryly, and Angie laughed.
    “Hey, this is Vegas. Your luck could change any time.”
    “Maybe you’re right.” Giving up, Darcy closed her eyes.

    She and her new, irresistible skin had barely stepped back into her suite when the buzzer sounded. Hertongue tied itself into knots the minute she opened the door and saw Mac.
    “Got a minute?” he asked, then stepped inside when she only nodded. “I don’t have much time, but I wanted to let you know the press has the bit between their teeth. The mystery woman angle has them fired up. They’ll play that for a few more days, but it won’t stop there. There’s bound to be a leak sooner rather than later. You’ll need to be prepared for that.”
    “I’m not going back to Kansas.” It came out in a burst, fueled by an anger that surprised them both.
    Mac raised his eyebrows. “So you said.”
    “I’m not going back,” she repeated. “I have enough of the cash you advanced me to get a hotel room.”
    “And you’d do that because …”
    “You said I shouldn’t be here.”
    “I don’t believe I did.” But he remembered his temper of the night before, and thought he might have said something along those lines. “It’s certainly not what I meant.” Annoyed with himself, he dragged a hand through his hair. “Darcy—”
    “I know I’ve been taking up a lot of your time. You feel responsible for me, but you don’t have to. I’m perfectly content to keep out of the way. I can just stay up here and write. That’s what I did last night after … well, after.”
    He held up a hand, guessing correctly it would stop the flood of words. “I’m sorry. I was out of line. I let that idiot last night get to me, and I took it out on you.” He dipped his hands into his pockets. “But it did make me realize that you shouldn’t have been there, and that you certainly shouldn’t be wandering around a casino alone.”
    She’d been on the point of yielding when his final statement put her back up again. “You think I’m stupid and naive.”
    “I don’t think you’re stupid.”
    Her eyes flashed, fascinating him with the sudden and unexpected fire of gold. “Just naive, then.Probably a bit incompetent and certainly too …” Her mind went on a fumbling search for the word. “Too midwestern to take care of myself in the big, bad city.”
    His eyebrow arched in a way she found both charming and infuriating. “You are the one who walked into town with less than ten dollars, no purse and nothing but the clothes on her back, aren’t you?”
    “So what! It got me here, didn’t it?”
    “Point taken,” he murmured.
    “And last night wasn’t the first time I’ve seen an evil-minded drunk, either. I’m from Kansas, not Dogpatch. We’ve got plenty of drunks in Kansas.”
    “I stand corrected.” And struggling mightily not to grin.
    “And you needn’t feel obligated to look after me as if I were some stray puppy who might run out into traffic. There’s absolutely no reason for you to worry about me.”
    “I didn’t say I was worried about you. I said you worried me.”
    “It’s the same thing.”
    “It’s entirely different.”
    “How?”
    He studied her. Color was warm in her face, her eyes were dark and shining. It wasn’t just anger she was feeling, he realized, but bruised pride as well. And that was undeniably his fault. He sighed. “You’re really leaving me no choice. You worry me,” he repeated, and laid his hands on her shoulders. “Because …” Slid them down her arms, around her waist. Watched her lips part in surprise just before he covered them with his.
    The world tilted. Every coherent thought in her mind tumbled out and scattered. Hopelessly lost.

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