Fortunes' Women. Kathie DeNosky

his cell phone from his belt as he pushed the breakfast cart down the hall toward the Riverboat Queen Suite. After walking Sasha back to her room last night, he’d spent several sleepless hours rethinking his approach for getting her into his bed and came to several conclusions.

      Thanks to his brother, she was clearly wary of him and more than a little confused by his interest after all this time. That was why he’d have to pull out all the stops in romancing Sasha Kilgore. It might take a little more time than he’d anticipated, which didn’t set too well. But in retrospect, it would heighten the pleasure when they finally did make love.

      Dialing directly into her room, he waited for Sasha to answer.

      “Hello.” Her voice was slightly husky from sleep and caused an unexpected rush of heat to zing through his veins.

      “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

      “Blake?”

      “None other.”

      “Why are you calling me at—” He heard the rustle of bed sheets and could imagine her sitting up in bed to push her hair out of her eyes and look at the clock. “Dear God, it’s only six-thirty.”

      He laughed. “Get out of bed and open the door to your suite, Sasha.”

      “Why?”

      “Do you always ask this many questions?”

      “Do you always answer a question with a question?” she retorted.

      “Just open the damned door.”

      “All right, but this had better be good,” she grumbled, hanging up the phone.

      When she flung open the door a few moments later, Blake smiled as he pushed the cart into the room. Sasha looked about as sexy as he’d ever seen a woman. Her pretty face wore the blush of sleep and her long auburn hair tumbled well past her shoulders in a wild array of soft curls.

      But it was the sight of her long slender legs that sent his blood pressure soaring. Her teal silk robe was one of those short numbers that ended about mid-thigh and revealed more than it covered.

      Deciding that it would be in his best interest not to point out that particular fact, he opted for discussing her mood. “I take it you’re not a morning person.”

      “And I take it you are.” Waving her hand toward the covered plates and silver coffee carafe, she arched one perfect eyebrow. “Please tell me that’s for someone else.”

      “Can’t do that, sweetheart,” he said, taking plates from the cart to place then on the small table by the window. “I thought we would have breakfast together before we head out for the day.”

      She frowned as she shook her head. “I never eat this early in the morning.”

      But she did follow him across the room and stood there looking so damned adorable, he’d have liked nothing more than to take her into the bedroom and have her for breakfast. Instead, he wisely motioned for her to sit down.

      “Experts say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

      “Those so-called experts are no doubt morning people that the rest of us would like to string up by their toes,” she groused, sinking into one of the chairs. “At least, until after we’ve consumed several cups of coffee.”

      He laughed as he poured them both a mug of the rich, dark brew. “Please, drink up. I’d like to keep my toes safe.”

      To his satisfaction, she picked up the cup, held it up to appreciate the aroma, then closing her eyes, smiled. “Mmm. How did you know I love mocha-flavored coffee?”

      He seated himself in the chair across from her. “I haven’t met a woman yet who doesn’t think that anything chocolate is almost as good as making love.”

      Opening her eyes, she stared at him over the rim of the cup as she took a sip of the rich brew. “Oh, really. And what do you prefer?”

      He grinned. “Sex, of course.”

      Clearly embarrassed, she shook her head. “I meant what flavor of coffee.”

      “I know, but you didn’t phrase it that way.” Changing the subject before he said something that got him into deeper trouble with her than he was already in, he removed the covers from their plates. “I didn’t know how you like your eggs. I hope scrambled is to your liking.”

      “That’s fine, and I do appreciate your thoughtfulness, but—”

      Before she could protest further, Blake picked up her fork, speared some of the fluffy eggs and put it into her mouth. “Now, isn’t that good?”

      She glared at him as she chewed, then swallowing, she nodded as she reached for the fork. “Yes.”

      He held the utensil away. “You want more?”

      “Yes.”

      She said the word grudgingly and from the look on her face, he decided it wouldn’t move them any closer to the physical relationship he wanted if he seized the opportunity to gloat. Handing her the fork, he picked up his own and for the next few minutes they ate in companionable silence.

      “When do you want me to present my proposal for your ad campaign?” she asked as she poured herself another cup of coffee.

      “You’ve already worked it up?” He didn’t particularly want to discuss business. He had other, more enjoyable pursuits in mind.

      To his relief, she shook her head. “I have a few more things to go over, but I should have it ready by this afternoon.”

      “I don’t think so.”

      “Excuse me?”

      “Today is your day off.” He reached out to take her hand in his. “I promised you a day of fun and that’s exactly what we’re going to have.” He raised her palm to his lips and kissed her tender skin. “Now, go get dressed so we can get started.”

      “Wh-what on earth could we possibly do at this hour of the morning?” Her voice sounded a little shaky. “The museums won’t open for several more hours.”

      It was all he could do to keep from telling her what he wanted to do and how he’d like to spend the day with her in bed. “Sweetheart, casinos are open 24/7.”

      As if she suddenly realized that he still held her hand, she extricated it from his. “I’ve never gambled before and wouldn’t even begin to know how to play any of the games.”

      He smiled. “It’s pretty simple and it will be my pleasure to teach you.” He rose to his feet, walked over to the phone on the desk and dialed room service. While he waited for one of the staff to pick up, he motioned toward the bedroom. “Get dressed while I get someone up here to clear the table.”

      “Is that an order or a suggestion?”

      From the look on her face, he could tell that he’d better watch the way he phrased things. “I was merely suggesting that you might want to put something on.” He grinned. “I love the hell out of the way you look in that little silk robe, but you might give one of my waiters a coronary when he sees your long, sexy bare legs.”

      Sasha’s heart raced as she glanced down at her robe. She hadn’t considered its length when she’d packed yesterday morning and the only male that had ever seen her in it was Melvin. Of course, besides being a big yellow cat, Melvin had been neutered several years ago and couldn’t care less about females, feline or human.

      But Blake was an entirely different matter. He was a virile, twenty-nine-year-old man who exuded sexual charm from every pore of his skin. Unfortunately, she’d been so irritated by being awakened at what she considered to be an ungodly hour, she hadn’t given the length of her robe a second thought. But from the look on his face, he’d definitely been thinking about it. A lot.

      Giving the hem a little tug in a futile effort to make it longer,