Читать книгу The Billionaire Who Bought Christmas - Barbara Dunlop - Страница 7

As the Gulfstream finally coasted to a halt at the far end of the runway, Jack quickly rose from his seat. There was no reason for anyone to be hurt, but he wanted to make sure.

True to Simon’s word, it had only been a bumpy landing, followed by a long stretch of deceleration. Even now, the emergency vehicles were struggling to catch up.

Still holding her hand, Jack went to Kristy first. “Okay?” he asked, peering into her eyes.

She gave him a series of swift nods, one hand stroking the little dog.

He smiled at her, let go of her hand and moved forward to where Leonardo was belted in. The man looked pale, but otherwise perfectly fine. Jack strode past the small closet and pulled open the flimsy cockpit door. “Simon?”

“All’s well,” Simon confirmed.

The copilot gave Jack a thumbs up.

There was a loud banging on the cabin door, and Jack quickly released the latch and lowered the staircase.

“Everybody okay?” shouted the fireman standing closest to the stairs. He was flanked by two others in their turnout gear. Behind the trio was a lights-flashing fire engine, an ambulance and two paramedics on the rain-spattered runway.

“We’re all fine,” said Jack as an airport security car pulled up, yellow lights adding to the show.

Simon appeared next to Jack’s shoulder.

“A hydraulic problem,” he told the emergency workers. “I’ll meet you inside to fill out the paperwork.”

“You need me for anything?” asked Jack.

Simon shook his head. “I’ll take care of it. But you’ll have a few hours to kill.”

Jack nodded then turned to find Hunter and Leonardo both on their feet. Leonardo was helping Kristy into her coat, balancing the little dog in his arms while he tried to be of assistance in the narrow aisle.

“We might as well go inside,” Jack said to them. “It’ll take some time to do the incident report and look at repairs.”

“Can I be of assistance?” asked Leonardo.

“Don’t worry about us,” said Jack. “Simon or I will call you when we know anything.”

“Thanks,” said Leonardo, handing the dog back to Kristy and giving it a pat on the head.

Jack gestured for Kristy to be first out of the aircraft, and one of the firemen came partway up the stairs to take her hand.

“I’m fine,” she protested.

“It’s slippery from the rain, ma’am. If you follow me to the car, security will take you to the terminal.”

Jack shrugged into his overcoat and followed them down the stairs. Hunter was right behind him, and the three hitched a ride in the back seat of the sedan to the main terminal at McCarran International.

As the glass doors of the terminal glided open, he breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone was safe, and the plane was intact. But, as soon as those facts were neatly filed away, his pragmatic brain began calculating the silver lining. At the very least, he’d bought himself three or four hours. Because, despite his connection with Kristy during the emergency landing, his mission hadn’t changed. And he now had some extra time to figure out how to stop her wedding to his grandfather.

The doors swooshed shut, and the noise and confusion of the main terminal engulfed them. They joined the crowd snaking its way past the luggage carousels and rental-car booths, and Jack fought an urge to put an arm around her shoulders and keep her close to his side. Ridiculous, he told himself. She’d had a bit of a scare, sure. But she was from New York City. This crowd certainly wasn’t going to rattle her.

He raised his voice so that Hunter and Kristy would hear him over the din. “I say we head for Bellagio’s.” He couldn’t see hanging around an airport for three or four hours. Not when Le Cirque was so close by.

“I’m going to grab a commercial flight,” said Hunter, slowing down and stepping out of the main pedestrian stream. The escalator next to him stretched up to the departures level. “I’ve got a golf date with Milo and Harrison in the morning,” he finished.

Jack glanced at Kristy, worried she might hop on a commercial plane, as well. But he quickly realized she wouldn’t want to pay full price for a same-day ticket.

“I guess it’s just you and me,” he put in, before it occurred to her to call Cleveland and ask for his credit-card number.

Kristy glanced around the crowded terminal. “You go ahead. I can wait here.”

Was she masochistic?

“My treat,” he clarified, in case money was stopping her. He would have paid for her dinner in any case. It was his plane. She was his guest.

She started to back away. “I’m sure you have plenty to do without me hanging around.”

“Like eat a steak and drink a martini?”

She smiled at that, and it was hard to imagine she was a gold-digging opportunist.

“Reports to read?” she asked. “Phone calls to return?”

It was nice of her to offer. Really it was. But didn’t she know enough to shut up and take the free dinner? Besides, he had no intention of letting her out of his sight.

“I’m honestly only planning to eat,” was his answer. And conspire against her, of course. But he didn’t think it was necessary to divulge that bit of information.

She gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him. “What about Dee Dee?”

“The hotel will take care of her. You won’t be the first celebrity to show up with a pet.”

“I’m not a celebrity.”

“Yeah, but they won’t know that. I’ll get us a really long limo, and I guarantee the concierge will find a solution.”

He could see she was still hesitating, so Jack brought out the big guns. “Do you really think my grandfather would ever forgive me if I abandoned you in an airport?”

Her eye twitched, and he knew he had her.

He knew he had her even before she opened her mouth.

“Okay,” she finally said with a nod. “We don’t want to upset your grandfather.”

“That’s right. We don’t.”

Hunter gestured to the up escalator with a jab of his thumb. “You two kids have fun. I’m off to find another ride.”

Kristy gave Hunter a brilliant smile and moved gracefully toward him, her hand outstretched. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

Hunter reached for the hand, a goofy grin growing on his face. “Me, too. I’m sorry I have to leave you here.”

“Don’t be silly. You obviously have things to do. Me, I’m clear for the rest of the weekend.”

“Really?”

Jack could see Hunter rethinking his golf game with Milo and Harrison.

“If you want to come along,” Hunter said to Kristy. “We can probably catch something on United.”

Jack wasn’t about to let that happen. “Kristy’s not interested in being stuffed in a last-minute back seat of a commuter jet.”

“How do you know?” asked Hunter.

“Because she has a brain,” said Jack, shifting in front of Kristy, squaring his shoulders and giving his cousin a crystal-clear back off glare. How was he supposed to save the family fortune if Kristy was off flirting with Hunter?

Hunter shrugged his capitulation. “Catch you next week, then.”

“Yeah,” Jack returned. “Next week.”

With a wave, Hunter stepped onto the escalator.

Taking Kristy on a date. Of all the crazy, lame-ass plans. Did Hunter think he could dazzle her with his good looks and charm and make her forget all about Cleveland’s billion-dollar offer?

Kristy didn’t want a relationship. She wanted a sugar daddy. She wanted a besotted rich old man who would indulge her every whim.

Jack stilled.

Wait a minute.

What was he thinking?

Kristy didn’t want a besotted, rich old man. She simply wanted a besotted rich man. She’d probably take a young one just as quickly. In fact, she might prefer a young one.

He stole a sidelong glance to where she was cooing at Dee Dee.

They were stuck together in Vegas. The land of glitz and glamour and fantasy. Where better to fall head over heels for a rich young man? Where better to have a rich young man fall head over heels for you?

And Jack was a rich young man—at least he was comparatively young. When you put him up against Cleveland.

Cleveland. What better way to make sure his family’s reputation and fortune didn’t take another hit, he’d get Kristy to marry him instead. And keep their money out of her hands.

Of course, he’d have to work fast.

Simon would lie for him about the jet repair, buy him tonight, maybe part of tomorrow. But eventually Kristy would get tired of waiting. She’d bite the bullet and buy a ticket on a commercial airline.

Until then, however…

He offered his arm and gave her a genuine smile. “Ever tried the tasting menu at Le Cirque?”

She shook her head, hesitating then taking his arm.

“Then you’re in for a treat. Come on.” He gently urged her forward. “Let’s go find ourselves a really flashy limo.”

Fortunately, since Jack ordered the tasting menu, Kristy didn’t get a chance to look at it. If she had, she suspected the prices would have given her a heart attack. Everything about Le Cirque reeked of wealth and privilege.

The tables were covered in white linen, well-spaced, with comfortable, padded chairs. The service was impeccable, and the decor spectacular. Bold burgundy carpets covered the floor, while padded, striped chairs surrounded the tables and spotlights shone on recessed circus murals.

They started almost immediately with chilled cocktails, then she savored course after course of exotic delicacies complemented by fine merlots and chardonnays.

Afterward, Jack didn’t even glance at the bill before handing over his platinum card.

His cell phone rang.

“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for his inside breast pocket.

Kristy shook her head. “Don’t worry about me.” She settled into the overstuffed chair, sighing as she gazed around the softly glowing room. The ceiling was draped with bright silk—yellow and orange and ivory fluttering like a tent dome around a central chandelier. It was dark outside, and the dancing lights of the fountains beyond the windows added to the intimacy of the restaurant.

“What time?” Jack asked into the phone.

Kristy took another sip from her wineglass, letting the tart, woodsy flavor ease over her tongue, as the room’s ambiance seeped in and relaxed her.

“If that’s the best you can do,” he said, catching Kristy’s gaze and giving her a smile that warmed her blood. “I understand. Okay.”

He flipped the phone shut.

“Everything okay?” she asked, truly not caring for the moment. As long as nobody had gone bankrupt or died, she was going to enjoy her stolen evening with a handsome, intelligent and interesting man.

Things like this simply didn’t happen to women like Kristy. Her last dinner out had been the bistro down the block. She and her date had split the bill. It hadn’t been expensive. But watching him calculate the charges, add the tip and count out change had definitely taken any romance out of the evening.

“Simon’s waiting for parts,” said Jack.

Well, that didn’t sound too dire. “What does that mean?”

“It means we’re stuck here for the night.”

Okay. That burst Kristy’s little bubble. Cash-flow alert. She’d planned on finding a small family-style motel outside of L.A. Her travel budget didn’t include Bellagio rates. Not even for one night.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Jack.

“About what?”

He reached for her hand, stroking his tapered fingers over her knuckles. “Whatever it is that made you frown. Don’t worry about it.”

“I have to worry about it.”

“Says who?”

“My accountant and my credit card company.”

He grinned. “Oh, that. Don’t worry. I won’t let you go bankrupt before morning.”

She frowned at him. “Dinner was great, but you’re not paying for my hotel room.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have self-respect.”

“You’re my guest.”

“I’m your fellow strandee.”

“It was my plane.”

“And you let me ride on it for free.”

Jack sighed, and she could feel him regrouping.

He opened his mouth.

“No,” she jumped in.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.” He got to his feet. “Come on. I’m going to show you something fun.”

“You keep your platinum card right where it is.”

He grinned, his eyes glowing in the candlelight. “Cross my heart.”

She nodded. “Okay. That’s better.” She bunched her linen napkin on the table and rose with him. “So, what is it?”

He shook his head. “It’s a surprise. It won’t hurt a bit. But that’s all I’m telling you.”

“Will it be embarrassing?”

“Not in the least.”

“Will I hate myself in the morning?”

His gray gaze went smoky, sizzling into hers for a split second, clenching her stomach, tripping her heartbeat. “I certainly hope not,” he said.

“Jack—”

The sizzle evaporated. “Grab a sense of humor, Kristy. I’m not propositioning you”

She felt like a fool. “Sorry.”

He held out his hand, the dare clear in his smirk.

She took a deep breath. Then she told herself to chill and curled her fingers into his palm.

His hand was strong, warm and dry, just the way she remembered. There was something about the texture of his skin, or maybe it was the way his fingers wrapped confidently around hers. It was the way it had been on the plane. She felt safe in his hands, as though he was in control of the planet, and all she needed to do was hang on for the ride.

It was probably a lingering emotion from the turmoil of the airplane landing, but it felt nice all the same.

They made their way across the patterned carpet of the casino. Machines flashed and chimed on all sides, while muted lighting showed yellow through draped fabric valences. Kristy tucked in behind Jack as he naturally cleared a path in front of him while he strode confidently through the crowd.

Above the buzz of conversation, a woman whooped in delight, and applause broke out around one of the craps tables.

The throng thinned, and they approached the casino cage where a neatly uniformed woman greeted Jack with a smile.

“Fifty thousand,” said Jack, tossing his credit card on the counter.

Kristy turned to blink up at him like an owl. “That was a joke, right?”

He glanced down and gave her a wink and a mischievous grin.

“Seriously,” she prompted.

But he didn’t answer. Instead, he turned back to the clerk who handed him a receipt and a stack of bills.

Kristy focused on the money, trying to figure out if fifty thousand was casino lingo for some other amount. Maybe he’d meant fifty dollars or five hundred.

But those were thousand-dollar bills. And there were a lot of them. She’d never even seen a thousand-dollar bill.

Feeling panicky at the thought of him walking around with that much money, she pulled up on her toes and hissed in his ear. “This is nuts.”

He leaned down to whisper back. “How so?”

“You can’t blow all that.” She was practically hyperventilating just looking at it.

He smirked. “I’m not blowing it. They’ll give it back to me when I cash in the chips.”

Like that was a reasonable answer. “Only if you don’t lose it.”

He shook his head. “Have a little faith. I’m not going to lose it.”

“You can’t know that.”

He tucked the bills into his inside pocket. “Sure I can.”

She resisted an urge to sock him in the arm. “Do you have a gambling problem?” Was she an enabler in all this? Should she try to drag him out of the casino? Maybe call Hunter for help?

Jack grinned, turning to walk away from the cashier. “It’s not a problem at all.”

She moved up beside him. “Seriously, Jack. Should we leave?”

“I told you. This is going to be fun.” He stopped in the middle of the casino and took a look around. “Okay, what are you up for?”

“A drink,” she said, suddenly inspired. “We should go back to the lobby bar instead.”

“They’ll bring you free drinks at the table. Ever played roulette?”

He started to move again, and she scrambled to keep up. “No. Of course not. I don’t gamble.” Like she could afford to on her budget.

“Really?” he asked.

“Really.”

“That’s too bad.” He stopped in front of a green numbered table and a shiny roulette wheel.

“Hop up,” he said, putting the stack of bills down on the edge of the green felt.

She stared at the money, a sick feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. “No way.”

He pulled out one of the high chairs. “Don’t spoil the party.”

“Jack, really—” Then she realized they were attracting attention from the dealer and the other players, so she lifted her heel to the crossbar and jumped up into the chair.

“That a girl,” Jack murmured approvingly.

The dealer took his money and replaced it with a clear plastic tray of color-rimmed chips.

Jack took the seat next to her. “There you go. Now pick a number.”

She glared at him.

“Care for a drink?” a female voice said from behind her.

“Glenlivet,” said Jack. “One ice cube.” He looked at Kristy. “A Cosmopolitan?” That was the drink she’d had before dinner.

She considered saying no. But two minutes ago she’d claimed to want a drink. She didn’t want to look like a fool. So she nodded, and the woman jotted it down.

“Did you pick a number?” asked Jack.

“Twenty-seven,” she said, giving up the fight with an exasperated sigh.

He nodded at the table. “Well, put some chips on it.”

She picked up a single hundred-dollar chip and leaned over to the twenty-seven square.

“That’s it?” he asked with obvious disappointment.

“You might be sure you’re not going to lose,” she said, as the dealer spun the wheel. “But I’m not.”

“I never said you weren’t going to lose.”

“There you go.”

He sat back in his seat. “What I said was, I’m not going to lose. And that’s because I’m not going to play.”

The wheel stopped on thirty, and the dealer cleared away her chip.

“See what you made me do?”

“Pick another one,” he said, eyes dancing. “And this time live a little.”

“Is this voyeurism for gambling addicts?”

He laughed at that. “I thought you said you wanted a room?”

“What does this have to do with getting a room?”

“You’ll see.”

“And it was you who wanted a room. I’m happy to wait at the airport with Dee Dee.”

“All night?”

To save several hundred dollars? “Yes.”

The dealer tossed in the small white ball.

Jack nodded to the wheel. “You missed that one.”

She swiveled the chair to the side. “Can we leave now?”

“We’ve got drinks coming.”

The ball stopped, and a sequin-covered woman next to Kristy gave a cry of joy.

“Play a number,” said Jack.

“You’re insane.”

He lifted a stack of chips and placed them in her palm. “If you want to play it safe, take red or evens. Or, see that? If you put it on the line, you can cover two numbers.”

Kristy squinted at another man’s stack of chips sitting on the line halfway between two numbers. “Really?”

“Swear to God.”

Kristy had to admit, that seemed like a pretty good deal. She put a stack on the line between seventeen and twenty. She refused to count the chips to see how much she was gambling.

Jack placed his arm across the back of her chair and leaned in. “Now don’t let it rattle you if you lose. You’re going to win some, and you’re going to lose some. But we’ll be fine in the end.”

Kristy held her breath as she watched the white ball bounce around the wheel. It rattled to a stop on the seventeen.

She blinked, sure she must be hallucinating.

“You won,” said Jack.

“I did?”

“You want to let it ride?”

She watched the dealer add a stack of chips to her bet. “Ha. What are the odds of it hitting seventeen twice in a row?”

“Exactly the same as the odds of it hitting any other number.”

Kristy eyed him skeptically.

“Seriously,” he said.

That couldn’t be right. She reached out and moved her winnings to twenty-nine and thirty.

Then she reconsidered and cut the stack in half.

Jack sighed, leaning in to mumble in her ear. “We’ll be here all night at this rate.”

She ignored the warm puff of his breath on her skin. “I don’t want to lose it all at once.”

The dealer spun the wheel and tossed in the ball.

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” said Jack, tapping his finger on the plastic tray that held his chips.

“I can’t believe you’re so cavalier with your money.”

“I can’t believe you’re so cautious with my money.”

The ball bounced to a stop.

Kristy had lost.

“See?”

The waitress arrived with their drinks. Chatter ebbed and flowed around them as the sequined woman next to Kristy wriggled off her seat and slid to the floor.

A thirty-something man in a dark suit took her place.

He smiled a friendly greeting at Kristy. Jack reacted by leaning closer to her, closing the space between them.

She struggled not to grin at his posturing. They were about as far away as you could get from dating, yet some anthropological instinct had obviously kicked in.

“Make a bigger bet,” said Jack, the fabric of his suit brushing against her bare forearm.

“Fine,” she said, scooping a long round of chips and placing them on number four.

“Wow,” he breathed, and she shot him a worried look.

But he was grinning. “Just messin’ with you.”

“You’re a jerk. You know that?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

She lost again.

“I don’t like this game.” It didn’t matter that it wasn’t her money. She was stressing out over losing it anyway.

“You’re doing fine,” he said.

“Can we do something else?”

“One more time.”

She gave a hard sigh. “Fine.”

Following the lead of the man sitting next to her, she placed a smaller stack of chips on the cross between four numbers. Then she took a bracing swallow of her cosmo.

The ball clattered around the wheel, settling on twelve, one of Kristy’s numbers.

The dealer added a couple of chips to her stack.

“Low risk, low payoff,” said Jack. He grabbed two stacks of chips and set them on number twenty-two. “Incidentally, that’s also the way things work in real life.”

“I know,” said Kristy, watching in morbid fascination as the wheel spun around again.

“Do you?” he asked.

“Why do you think I’m going to L.A.?”

Astonishingly, with that much money riding, Jack turned away from the wheel to stare at her instead. “Is it?”

She nodded, not taking her gaze off the ball. “For the chance at a big payoff. I left my sister, my holiday shopping and my baking behind.”

He kept his gaze glued to her profile. “Well, if this works out, you’ll be able to do all the shopping you want.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Then her eyes widened and her stomach clenched with the thrill. “You won!”

Jack stared at her a split second longer. Then he glanced at the roulette wheel. “I guess I did.”

“Do it again,” she urged. Clearly he understood the game better than she did.

His shoulders relaxed. “It’s your turn.”

“You’re better.”

He split his bet between number eighteen and the red zone. Then he pushed a stack of chips onto the line between eight and nine.

“Wow,” said Kristy.

“What?”

“You must have a secret system.”

He shook his head. “You pick numbers. It’s completely random. Help me out here.”

Scooting forward in her chair, Kristy gamely pushed a couple more stacks onto the board.

“Now we’re talking,” said Jack.

“That’s a pretty rich bet,” said the man next to her.

She felt Jack still.

Then the man glanced past her to Jack. His expression sobered, and he turned his attention to the table.

The ball hit the wheel.

Kristy doubled her money on two, and her bet also paid out on black. Several spins later, with her Cosmo glass empty and a new player at her elbow, they were up several thousand dollars. A man in a navy suit and a red tie approached them.

He introduced himself as the casino manager and asked if they’d care for another drink.

Kristy was pretty much done with alcohol. Besides, it was getting late. She hoped she’d won enough to pay for a hotel room because, now that she was tired, an airport waiting area didn’t sound all that appealing.

To her surprise, the manager held out a key card to Jack. “Please accept the Ruby Suite with our compliments.”

Jack gave Kristy a sparkling-eyed look. “Interested in a suite?”

“Two bedrooms?” she asked. It occurred to her that this could be a setup. Jack had been a perfect gentleman so far—maybe too much of a gentleman to be trusted.

He raised an eyebrow in the manager’s direction.

Without missing a beat, the man pocketed the key and retrieved his cell phone.

“This is Raymond Jones. Can you bring me a key for the Diamond Suite?” He paused. “The roulette tables. Thank you.”

He flipped the phone shut. “Two bedrooms,” he said.

“And my dog?” Kristy asked.

“Not a problem,” said Raymond.

“Then, thank you,” she said with a nod and a smile. A free suite definitely solved her accommodation problem.

“Anything else we can do to be of service?” asked Raymond.

Jack glanced at Kristy. “I can’t think of anything? Can you?”

Kristy shook her head.

Another man appeared at Raymond’s elbow and provided a new room key.

Jack accepted it with a thank you, while Raymond gestured to the expanse of the casino. “Please. Enjoy the rest of the evening.”

“We will,” said Jack. “Thank you very much.”

As Raymond and the other man walked away, Kristy turned to Jack. “So, did you pay him to do that?”

“Nope.”

“Come on.”

“I didn’t have to pay him. The room’s free.”

“I don’t get it.”

“That’s what happens when you bet big.”

“They give you a free room?”

Jack placed his hand in the small of her back, gently steering her toward the cage.

There was something about that hand…

“If you’re losing,” he said. “They want you to stick around and keep doing it. And if you’re winning, they want you to stick around long enough to lose it back to them.”

“Is that what we’re going to do?”

“Nope. Not unless you want to.”

“I don’t want to lose.”

“Then I vote we cash out and enjoy our free room.”

A free room with Jack.

Correction, a free suite with Jack. Two rooms, really.

She glanced up at his handsome face, and her stomach fluttered at the thought of such an intimate setting with such a sexy man.

Two bedrooms, she reminded herself.

Still. It was a hotel suite. And they were in Vegas. And she’d be a bald-faced liar if she didn’t admit her mind was jumping to the possibilities.