Back in Her Husband's Bed. Andrea Laurence

      She stirred so many emotions in him. Anger, jealousy, arousal, resentment, anxiety... Being around her now was like riding the roller coaster across the street. He was an even-keeled guy. A levelheaded businessman. That made it even more irritating knowing she could impact him the way no other woman had. He just hoped he could keep it all inside.

      When she’d first left, he was confused and furious. His worst fears had been realized. It was as though his mother had abandoned him all over again. He had watched his father crumble under the weight of his grief. The only thing Nate knew for certain was that he wouldn’t let Annie break him. He’d funneled his anger into building the greatest damn casino in Las Vegas and finding the perfect way to exact his revenge.

      Yes, they might have rushed to the altar. Yes, they might have had little more than fantastic sex in common. But their marriage would end on his terms, not hers. She’d forfeited her vote when she walked out. Now that he had her back here, bending to his will, he would finally be able to put her, and them, behind him.

      Perhaps. As he looked down at the beautiful, exciting woman...his wife...he began to wonder if luring her back here with the tournament was a mistake. The vengeance surging through his veins had dulled, leaving only the desire to possess her once again.

      Back then, his need for Annie had been all consuming. Nate hadn’t wanted to let her out of his bed, much less his life. Marrying her had seemed like the best way to guarantee that Annie would be his forever. The irony was that it was the marriage itself that drove her away. Everything had been perfect before then.

      Annie groaned softly, her eyes fluttering a moment before opening. She looked around the room in confusion before her sapphire gaze met his. “What happened?”

      “You fainted. Apparently the mere thought of people knowing you were married to me was too much for you to take.” He didn’t bother to mask the irritation in his voice.

      “What am I...?” She looked around again, the crease between her eyebrows deepening in thought. “Why am I lying in your bedroom?”

      Nate smiled down at her. “Our bedroom, sweetheart. Like a gentleman, I carried you in here when you fainted. Anyway, I’m surprised you recognize the place. I’d have thought you blocked it from your memory with the rest of our marriage.”

      Annie frowned and pushed herself up onto her elbows. “Nate, the problems in our relationship had nothing to do with this room. The bedroom was the only place it worked.”

      She sat up and slowly inched off the foot of the bed. Pulling herself together, she quickly tugged down her fitted black skirt and smoothed her red top. Her expression hardened, her emotions unreadable. Within seconds, the Annie of the past was gone and the Barracuda had returned. He was glad. The cool, calm poker player was far easier for Nate to resist.

      Annie left the room and returned with her two bags. “Where can I put my things?”

      The large, red Louis Vuitton roller and toiletry bag were just the right size for a woman on the move all the time. After she left, Nate had hired a private detective to find out more about his elusive bride. He’d told Nate that although Annie had a sparsely decorated condo in Miami, she was almost never there. She roamed from one tournament to the next, living in hotels out of these red bags.

      As someone who had practically grown up in the same building he stood in right now, he couldn’t understand her wanderlust. He’d known she traveled to the various tournaments to compete, but somehow he’d thought that marrying him would give her a reason to settle in one place. That her love of the game would give her an interest in helping him build up the Sapphire, working side by side as partners. He had been wrong.

      Nate opened the door to the walk-in closet and moved some clothes to the opposite side. “You can hang up your things here. If you need any more space, just slide my stuff over.”

      Annie nodded stiffly and pushed past him to the closet. He took a few steps back to linger in the doorway and watch as she slowly unpacked. She was methodical as she unzipped the bag and carefully removed each piece. It was like a ritual she’d repeated a thousand times. How had he ever thought he could get her to unpack for good?

      “If you have what you need, I’m going downstairs. I’ll see you for dinner at Carolina’s at eight-thirty. Be prepared for our first public outing as husband and wife.”

      At that, he turned on his heel and marched down the hallway to the elevator. He didn’t wait for her response. He needed to get away from her for a while. To take a deep breath that wasn’t warm with her scent. To clear his mind and replan his strategy. His stomach couldn’t take the never-ending swing of the emotional pendulum being around her brought on. Wanting her and then despising her. Remembering every inch of her body and then realizing he didn’t know a damn thing about her.

      Once downstairs, he marched through the casino for his standing meeting with Gabe and Jerry Moore, his casino floor manager. They met in the Pit Three lounge, where they would catch him up on the hotel activities. Tonight, he would also get a drink. He normally wouldn’t drink while working, but all bets were off the moment Annie walked into his casino. He needed something to dull his thoughts, to fend off the building arousal. Not to get drunk—he couldn’t trust himself not to do something stupid—just enough to numb.

      By the time he reached the lounge, Gabe and Jerry were already seated in the back corner booth. They went on easily with their normal routines from there. Gabe reported on any incidents worth mentioning, provided the latest security codes and gave him the access card for Annie. Jerry rattled on for a while about a couple high rollers and preparation for the tournament.

      The tournament was not an easy event to arrange. Nate was happy to sip on his vodka tonic and give his mind over to the intricacies. A portion of the casino floor had already been roped off and tables rearranged. The kickoff cocktail party was under control. Patricia in the public relations office had been in contact with the event sponsors and working with ESPN for the past few weeks. Everything seemed to be going well.

      His years of hard work really had paid off. Nate had fought hard to bring the hotel back after his father’s negligent management. Now it was clear that his dedication and work ethic had rubbed off on his staff. The people he hired were inspired to make the Desert Sapphire the most successful hotel-casino in Las Vegas. His grandfather would be proud of what Nate had made of his life’s work.

      “So is everything in place in terms of the arrangement with Annie?” Gabe asked, drawing Nate back into the conversation he’d been having alone with Jerry.

      Nate noted his tone. Gabe didn’t like his plan at all and made no secret of it. “Yes. I think with her assistance we will have a very good shot of putting an end to this and securing the tournament contract.”

      Jerry nodded in approval. His casino manager had worked at the Sapphire for thirty years, helping Nate’s grandfather start the place. After a heart attack and an unfulfilling decade of retirement, he’d come back to help his best friend’s grandson. The whole Annie situation had happened during his hiatus.

      “Remind me again of the story we’re using?” Jerry ran his wrinkled hand over the balding dome of his head. “I want to make sure when people ask, I’m telling it right.”

      Nate repeated their cover for everyone’s benefit. “Annie and I got married a couple years ago, but it didn’t work out. She came back for the tournament and we’ve reconciled. I’d leave it at that. Too many details and we run the risk of messing up.”

      Jerry’s radio squawked at his hip. He lifted it to his ear to listen to the message before responding and turning to Nate. “If we’re done here, I need to get over to pit one.”

      Nate dismissed him with a wave of his hand and then watched the older man shuffle out of the lounge. He hoped he had half that much spunk when he was in his seventies.

      Turning back, Nate could tell Gabe was biting his tongue. He wasn’t happy, idly rotating a cardboard coaster on the table and glaring at the platinum band on Nate’s ring finger. “Just say it, Gabe.”

      Gabe