Page 6 of One Night Gamble
“Let’s go dance,” Sami said, sliding from the booth.
Talia took a sip of her margarita and followed her friend onto the dance floor. Sami was always urging her to do something for herself, to stop trying to save everyone in her life. But, honestly, Talia wasn’t sure she could do that. For as long as she could remember, she’d been the strong one.
The music pulsed and bodies writhed all around them. Talia couldn’t help but think that this was what Vegas did so well—promising a place where it was okay to let go and indulge with no consequences. She shook her head again.
Sami was right—she was young. She forgot that sometimes. Trying to take care of Gran, and making sure that what her father had gambled away from them wasn’t going to ruin both of their lives, had taken a toll on her. Gran had given her a home and a safe place…
“Mind if I dance with you?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the gorgeous blue-eyed gambler. “Not at all.”
They danced together and she let herself enjoy it. He wasn’t all handsy the way some guys were when she met them in a club. In fact, when their bodies brushed together, he never pushed for more, even though a tingle went through her at the contact.
He didn’t have to push for anything, she realized. He was gorgeous, and if the looks he was receiving were any indication, he could have his pick of women in the club. But he didn’t pay attention to anyone but her. It was nice. As much as she’d sort of hoped he’d be arrogant or a jerk, he made her feel special.
He was just a smidge under six feet tall and his shoulders were broad and his arms muscled. She let her gaze drift down his torso to his hips and then back up to find him staring at her.
Then the song “No Tomorrow” by Afrojack came on and she started to move to the music, letting the song speak to her. She should live like there was no tomorrow, at least for one night. In that moment, the things that Sami had said rang through her mind. Her friend was right. With the pounding music of the club driving her, she wasn’t going to think about tomorrow or leaving Las Vegas.
Her gambler caught her close as the deejay slowed the music down, playing Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect.” His arms were strong as he wrapped one around her waist, allowing his hand to rest in the middle of her back, between her shoulder blades. His palm was hot through the fabric of her dress.
She looked up into those blue eyes of his again. He sang a little under his breath and she leaned her head into the curve of his shoulder as he continued to move her around the floor. The lyrics reminded her of the choices she’d made and how they’d impacted her life. She’d been focused on clearing her father’s debt, getting her Gran set up so the older woman could enjoy her old age and not worry about being thrown out of her home. But right now, in this man’s arms, she realized she’d forgotten about her own dreams. Something was lacking—in her life, in her soul.
She tipped her head back to look at him, and their eyes met. There was a spark in his gaze—the same excitement she was feeling—and as he lowered his head to hers, she couldn’t do anything but lift her chin, welcoming him.
Their lips met and a shiver went through her. Her pulse raced as he lightly moved his mouth against hers.
Her eyes drifted closed and she was surrounded by the feel of his lips on hers, the smell of tequila and expensive aftershave and the feel of his long, lean body pressed against hers. His hands skimmed down her back, cupping her butt and drawing her more fully against him. Arching against him, she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck as she tilted her head to the side and opened her lips under his. His tongue teased hers and she sucked it into her mouth.
A fire started deep inside of her, something that she knew wouldn’t be quenched by one kiss. He lifted his head and she opened her eyes to stare into his blue gaze.
She framed his face with her hands and felt the stubble of his beard against her palms. She liked the contrast between the prickliness of his facial hair and the softness of his lips against hers. Rubbing her finger down the side of his jaw, she broke their kiss, then touched his lips with her finger.
The music stopped and he took her hand, leading her off the dance floor. Sami obviously saw them leaving and came over to loop her arm through Talia’s. Talia looked at her friend, wondering if she could see the electricity that had arched between herself and this man, this charmer, or if she’d just imagined it.
“Let’s go up to the VIP lounge. It’s quieter there, and we can talk,” he said.
She glanced at Sami, but her friend just arched her eyebrows at her, clearly indicating the decision was Talia’s. She took a deep breath and nodded before turning back to her gambler.
“We’d love to,” she said.
…
Casey had never been the kind of man to ignore fate when it came knocking. This intriguing woman kept showing up in his life. Tonight, she was here, in the nightclub in his casino. It felt like there was a reason he kept running into her.
Was she his talisman? A good luck charm?
Like all poker players, he was suspicious. Although this move to staying in Vegas, committing to setting up and running the casino, had felt right to him, another part of him remembered his childhood and everything that had shaped him into becoming the winner he was.
Vegas was complicated. There was no way he could just assume that all of their encounters had been a coincidence. But he also couldn’t walk away from her. She was sweet—that was obvious in everything she said and did. And she was sexy, though it seemed like she was unaware of it. He’d never been more intrigued in his life.
The VIP lounge was located on the twenty-fourth floor balcony and overlooked the oldest part of the Vegas strip. The room had a deejay who played dance music, but the dance floor was much smaller and not as crowded. They had a small buffet set up with food and a bar and there were draped off areas that allowed for some privacy.
The lounge was something that the three friends had intended as an oasis of sorts—a calm area away from the frenetic pace of the casino and clubs.
Some of the high rollers he’d invited for the tournament were already in the lounge. They waved them over as he entered with the two women, and he suddenly realized he hadn’t introduced himself.
“What’s your name?” he asked. “I can’t keep calling you Brown Eyes.”
