The Hot-Blooded Groom. Emma Darcy

actually spotted Derek, seated at a blackjack table, watching the cards being played by the dealer with an intensity that cramped her heart.

      He was caught in a thrall that nothing was going to break.

      It seemed that nothing else mattered.

      Sickened by the realisation of how destructively addictive gambling could be, Sunny hesitated over confronting Derek, yet the relationship they had shared up until this week demanded that he at least recognise how he was treating it. The need to get through to him drove her over to the blackjack table. She waited until he threw down his cards in disgust, apparently having lost his bet, then tapped him on the shoulder.

      ‘Derek…’

      He sliced an impatient frown at her.

      ‘…could I speak to you, please?’

      ‘Can’t you see I’m playing?’

      ‘It’s important.’

      Grimacing at the interruption, he heaved himself off his chair and tipped the back of it onto the edge of the table to hold his place. ‘What’s so damned important?’ he demanded, his bleary eyes snapping with frustration.

      ‘It’s the last night…’

      ‘I’ve just lost the roll I won at roulette. My luck’s got to turn…’

      ‘Derek, we’ve got seats for the Jubilee show. And dinner beforehand.’

      ‘The action is here. I’m not leaving it.’

      ‘Don’t I mean anything to you anymore?’ she cried, trying to get through the obsessive glaze to some grain of perspective on what he was doing.

      The personal tack clearly irritated him. ‘I sat through your presentation. You slayed ’em as you always do. Is that what you want to hear?’ he said ungraciously, then waved a sharp dismissal as he added, ‘If you’re hot to go and watch some showgirl extravaganza, fine. But as you just pointed out, this is our last night here and I want to win my money back.’

      ‘And what if you don’t? What if you lose more?’

      He looked shifty.

      ‘Derek, just how much have you lost already?’

      Feverish need flashed at her. ‘I’ll win it back. It’s only a matter of time.’

      An icy fear struck her. ‘Have you been gambling on credit?’

      ‘That’s my business. We’re not married yet.’

      No sharing. No desire to share. Complete shut-out. Hurt and disappointment held her silent for a moment as she realised beyond any doubt that there could be no happy future for them. A bitter urge to show him what he’d done, how low he had fallen, had her wrenching the diamond ring off her finger.

      ‘Here!’ She held it out to him. ‘You can pawn it. Get some more money to throw down the drain.’

      It rocked him. ‘Now look here, Sunny…’

      ‘No. Try looking at yourself, Derek. It’s over for me.’

      ‘Well, if you feel that way…’ His eyes glittered as he took the ring. ‘You’ll change your mind when I win a bundle.’

      He was unreachable on any level. ‘I won’t change my mind. We’re through, Derek,’ she said with absolute finality.

      His gaze had dropped to the diamond in his hand, and Sunny had the gut-wrenching impression he was assessing what he could get for it. Her eyes blurred—all the inner torment of hopes and dreams being just swept away suddenly catching her by the throat. For their eight-month-long relationship to come to this…

      She swung away, swallowing hard to stop herself from bursting into tears and making a spectacle of herself. Her legs moved automatically, driven by the need to get out of the casino, out of this dreadful playground which trapped people and drained them of any soul she could relate to.

      The slot machines jangled around her, a cacophony of sound that seemed to mock her misery. She completely lost her bearings, not knowing what direction led to an exit. A moment’s enforced reasoning told her to head for the hotel’s reception desk from where the lobby was definitely in view.

      It was such a relief to break free of the vast gambling area, tears swam into her eyes again. This time she simply put her head down and followed the walkway to the lobby, hoping not to run into anyone who knew her.

      The limousine was waiting. His plane was waiting to fly him back to L.A. Kristen was waiting for him to return to her, no doubt ready to sweeten her prenuptial demands with how well she would accommodate his needs. Bryce Templar told himself that what he’d just witnessed didn’t change anything, but still he lingered in the lobby, watching Sunny York.

      She’d taken off the diamond ring.

      The man she’d handed it to wasn’t following her.

      Her haphazard flight from what was clearly a distressing scene had finally been checked and she was heading towards him. Not consciously. She hadn’t seen him. She wasn’t seeing anything except the floor stretching ahead of her.

      ‘Your bag is in the car, sir,’ the bellhop informed him.

      He nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from the long beautiful legs of Sunny York, walking her towards him. The memory of her warm vibrancy played havoc with his usual cool decision-making processes. Here was opportunity. The guy at the blackjack table was one hell of a big loser and that loss was right in front of Bryce to be capitilised upon. The urge to do so was more compelling than any urge he’d had for a long time.

      She was free.

      He wasn’t, Bryce sternly reminded himself. Kristen was wearing his ring. But not a wedding ring yet. And before he could have any further second thoughts, a fierce surge of highly male instincts moved him to intercept Sunny York’s path to the exit doors.

      ‘Miss York…’

      Legs were planted in front of her—the legs of a big man—and that voice…her heart quivered as a weird certainty crashed through the daze of misery in her mind. Bryce Templar was addressing her. Bryce Templar!

      Her feet faltered, hesitating over making a wild sidestep to escape him. Even blinking furiously, she couldn’t hide the moisture in her eyes. Impossible to face him…yet impossible not to. A man like Bryce Templar would not be snubbed. Not by an employee of his company.

      ‘I was looking for you after the awards presentation,’ he said purposefully.

      It surprised her into raising her gaze to his. ‘Looking for me?’ His eyes were green, pouring out interest in her, and despite her embarrassment, Sunny found she couldn’t look away.

      He smiled. ‘You impressed me very much this morning.’

      At the vivid memory of how he had impressed her, heat whooshed up her neck and scorched her cheeks. It reduced her to total speechlessness.

      ‘You have a remarkable gift for selling,’ he went on.

      Somehow she managed to get her mouth around, ‘Thank you.’

      ‘I wondered if I could interest you in a proposition.’

      Like having a baby with me?

      Sunny blushed even more furiously at that terribly wayward thought. Her mind was hopelessly out of control. Bryce Templar had to be talking about a business proposition, which was stunning in itself…the big man thinking she had a special talent for sales.

      ‘Were you on your way somewhere?’ he asked.

      Realising her gauche manner was probably putting him off—putting Bryce Templar off!—Sunny tried desperately to adjust to this totally unexpected situation.

      ‘I…I was just going for a walk. Out of the hotel. We’ve been closeted inside all day…’

      ‘Yes,