Risking It All.... Yvonne Lindsay

paused, and looked right at her with a curious expression in his eyes. “Yes. When I was younger I was angry with her for not being more careful. Seems crazy, really. It does make me keep a close eye on the younger kids here, though. Especially the ones who’ve moved away from family to join us. I’m a big fan of stern lectures.”

      She smiled. “You sound like my parents. I grew up on a steady diet of stern lectures.”

      “And look how well you turned out.”

      “Some would say I’m far too conservative for my own good.”

      “And I’d be one of them.” He winked. “Still, that’s better than some of the alternatives. Let’s go watch the roulette tables.”

      “You’re not going to make me play, are you?”

      He laughed. “I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to.”

      * * *

      What was it about Constance that got under his skin? John stood next to her as the wheel spun and the ball danced between black and red. She was so unlike the usual stream of glamorous women who hung around him, sniffing the scent of money or promising a steamy affair.

      Constance stood with her arms crossed over her prim suit, eyes fixed firmly on the table and not a hint of flirtation in her gestures.

      But he knew she was as attracted to him as he was to her. The shine in her eyes when she looked at him, the glow in her cheeks, the way she angled her body toward him unconsciously—it all spoke of the desire that crackled between them so forcefully you could almost hear it snap in the air.

      She didn’t want to like him. Or to want him. But somehow that only heightened the tension building as they stood next to each other, pretending to focus on the white ball.

      It dropped into a slot and the wheel slowed to a halt. One woman squealed with delight and smiled as the croupier slid a pile of chips toward her. John glanced at Constance and saw the tiny hint of a smile that hovered about her pretty mouth. “That’s why they keep coming back,” he said softly.

      “I can see how it would be fun.” She leaned into him so he could hear her but no one else could. Her scent tugged at his sense. “But I’d still rather make money the old-fashioned way.”

      “Me, too. I’ll take hard work over chance any day of the week.” He leaned still closer until he could almost feel the heat of her skin. “But everyone’s different.”

      Did he like her because she was different? It didn’t really make sense. There was no good reason to flirt with and tempt this woman. She was here on professional business and it was inappropriate for him to even have sensual thoughts about her.

      Yet he couldn’t seem to stop.

      As he’d promised, he had no intention of making her do anything she didn’t want to. But making her want to? That was a whole different story.

      * * *

      One time at a college mixer someone had given Constance a glass of orange juice mixed with vodka—without mentioning the vodka. She still remembered the way the world around her had grown blurry, and she’d found herself laughing at things that weren’t even funny. She felt like that right now, though she was sure she’d had nothing but fruit juice all evening.

      “...and then after we won every game that season, they wouldn’t let me go.” John leaned into her again, brushing her arm with his. Her skin sizzled inside her suit. “It was a pain in the ass. All I wanted to do was study statistics, and I had to get all this tiresome fresh air and sunshine.”

      She laughed. He’d been telling her about how he’d joined the college football team entirely for the scholarship money and then accidentally became their star player. Of course he had. He was one of those people who effortlessly succeeded at everything they tried. Or maybe not effortlessly. He just made it look that way.

      “It must get annoying being so good at everything.”

      “You think I’m bragging?”

      “I’m pretty sure of it.” She narrowed her eyes, trying to hide her smile. He hadn’t really volunteered any information she hadn’t asked for. She wanted to know more about him. At first she told herself she was doing “research.” Now she was too darn curious to stop. “What did your team members think of you?”

      “Oh, at first they made fun of me. Teased me for being from the backwoods of Massachusetts. They stopped laughing when they saw how fast I could run, though.”

      “Can you still run fast?” Her hand accidentally brushed his as she raised her drink to her lips. They’d moved to a sofa near the blackjack tables, where they had a good view of the whole room. Her thigh jostled against his, too. The sofa was soft and they kept sinking into it. The crowds milled about the gaming tables, ignoring them completely.

      “I don’t know. I haven’t tried lately. I’m still pretty quick on the squash court, though. Do you play any sports?”

      “No.” Maybe she should start. All this energy building up inside her needed some place to go. Right now she felt like jumping up and running around the room. “My parents thought sports were a waste of time.”

      “And you never did anything they didn’t want you to?”

      “Nothing major. I read some books they didn’t approve of, and they never knew I had a boyfriend.”

      “You kept your lover a secret from them?” He bumped against her, teasing.

      “It wasn’t like that.”

      “No? It certainly sounds like it.”

      “He was at college with me in a different town, so they never met him.”

      “And you didn’t mention him. Was he someone they wouldn’t have approved of?” He raised a brow.

      She chuckled. “No. That’s the funny part. He was so dull they’d probably have liked him.” Was she really talking about Phil? She’d tried to shove him out of her mind. Which was hard, because six years later he was still the only boyfriend she’d ever had.

      At least now she could admit he wasn’t exactly the man of her dreams.

      “Why were you dating him if he was dull?”

      “I like dull.”

      John peered into her eyes. The effect of his dark gaze was anything but dull. Sensations she’d never felt before trickled through every part of her. “Why?”

      “Predictable. Reassuring. I don’t enjoy surprises.”

      “Or at least you think you don’t.” One brow lifted slightly. “Come with me.”

      He took her hand gently and helped her up from the squishy sofa. “Where are we going?”

      “It’s a surprise.”

      “I already told you I don’t like them.” Anticipation rippled in her tummy.

      “I don’t believe you.” He led her across the busy game room to the bank of shiny elevators. Her hand pulsed inside his. They were walking along like a couple, and while it horrified her, the realization gave her a strange thrill. She should pull her hand from his, but she didn’t.

      He pressed the button for the highest floor and shot her a mysterious look.

      “I’m not even going to ask,” she murmured, trying to keep her eyes on the door. Even while she knew he was flirting with her and leading her on, she trusted John not to pull any fast moves. They’d been talking for a while and he was clearly a man who took the concept of personal honor seriously. He saw himself as a role model for the younger members of the tribe and he’d said more than once that he never did anything he wouldn’t want them to know about.

      Of course, maybe he was just trying to undermine her defenses by appearing principled