“Anything for you, John. You know that.” His uncle sipped his coffee. “Though why you feel the need to help a bunch of total strangers, I don’t entirely know.”
John shrugged. “Nowhere else for them to go. And Constance Allen was with them.” His lips hummed slightly at the sense memory of their kiss. He hadn’t planned it, and the chemistry between them had taken him by surprise.
Don put his cup down with a bang. “What? I didn’t see her.”
“I brought her in my car.” He schooled his face into a neutral expression.
“So she’s here, right now, in the hotel?” His uncle’s eyes widened. “And you didn’t even tell me?”
John sipped his coffee. “I’m telling you right now.”
Don’s long, narrow mouth hitched into a half smile. “Did you put a move on her?”
“Me?” He raised a brow noncommittally. He didn’t want to give Don the satisfaction of knowing. And he hadn’t kissed her to please anyone but himself.
Don laughed and slapped his hand on the table. “You kill me. I bet she’ll look like a startled rabbit today. Heck, she looked like one yesterday.”
John frowned. “You need to stop making assumptions about people, Don. I’m sure she has a lot of dimensions you know nothing about. At the fire last night, for example, she kept her cool and was very helpful. Nothing like a startled rabbit.”
Don cocked his head. “If I had half the charm you do I’d never be lonely again.”
“You’re not lonely all that much now, from what I can see.”
“The money from this place doesn’t hurt.” His uncle laughed. “I was lonely a lot before. I didn’t have the knack for making bank that you were born with.”
“It’s not a knack. It’s called hard work.” He kept checking the door, waiting for Constance to show up.
“All the hard work in the world doesn’t help if you aren’t lucky.” Don took a bite of his eggs. “Luck is our bread and butter.”
“You make your own luck.” John scanned the dining room. Had he missed her coming down? He wanted to see her. “Statistics are our bread and butter. Anyone dumb enough to rely on luck will lose it all to the house sooner or later.”
“Unless they know how to game the system.”
“Impossible.” John drained his coffee. “I personally make sure it’s impossible. I’m going up to the office. Don’t forget to send out the press release about the new lineup of shows. I want press coverage.”
“I know, I know. Who booked them all?”
“You did. And Mariah Carey was amazing last night.”
Don grinned. “I love my job.”
“Me, too.” John slapped Don on the back as he headed out of the dining room. His uncle could be a pain in the ass, but underneath all the bluster he had a good heart and put a lot into making the entertainment here as much of a draw as the gaming tables.
But where was Constance? She wasn’t in his office. He’d tried calling her hotel room, but no one picked up. He didn’t want to knock on her door again. That hadn’t gone entirely as planned last time.
He strolled across the lobby.
“You seen Constance Allen?” The staff at the front desk shook their heads. He would have to go up to her room again. He took the elevator to the sixth floor, excitement rippling in his veins. Why had she let him kiss her? In retrospect, it surprised him. She’d seemed so uptight and buttoned-down, but she’d opened like a flower and kissed him back with passion.
He couldn’t wait to see what would happen this morning. Of course he probably shouldn’t be entertaining lustful thoughts about the accountant investigating their books for the BIA. On the other hand he knew she wouldn’t find anything wrong, so what did it really matter? No one would ever know but the two of them.
He knocked on the door. “It’s John.”
He heard some rustling, and cracked his knuckles while waiting. The door opened a crack and a pair of bright hazel eyes peered out at him.
“Good morning.” A smile spread across his mouth. Chemistry crackled in the air again. Which was odd, really, because by any objective standards he wouldn’t have thought they’d be a match. Maybe it was that opposites-attract thing.
And she was pretty.
“Um, hello.” The door didn’t open any farther.
“Can I come in?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He saw her purse her pretty pink lips.
“I promise I won’t try anything,” he whispered. “In fact I’m not sure what happened last night, and if an apology is in order then I offer one.” Not that he was sorry.
The door still didn’t budge. Now she was biting that sensual lower lip. Which had an unfortunate effect on his libido.
“I called the dealership about your car. They’re going to program a new key and bring it over here before noon.”
“That’s great. Thanks.”
“Don’t you want to come up to the office and look through the books?”
She blinked rapidly. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
“All right then. I won’t come in. You come out instead.”
The door closed for a moment and he heard some rattling, then she appeared again, carrying her bag. “I just had to get my laptop.” She opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, looking self-conscious—and very lovely—in the blue dress he’d found for her. He wasn’t sure whether to compliment her or not, and decided not to. He didn’t want to make her feel any more uncomfortable.
Her hair was fastened back up into a tight bun that showed off her pretty neck. As usual she wore no makeup, and the freshness of her clear skin was heightened this morning by an endearing flush of pink on her cheeks.
“I hope you managed to get some sleep after all the excitement of last night.”
Her pace quickened as she headed down the hall toward the elevator. He’d meant the fire, but he realized she’d thought he meant the kiss. The memory of it flashed through his brain, firing all kinds of inappropriate impulses.
“I slept fine, thank you.” Her words were clipped and terse. “I’d like to look at the receipts from your first two years of operation this morning.”
“Of course.” The temptation to touch her was overwhelming. Normally he’d probably have done it without even realizing, but everything about her energy warned him to back off. “Have you had breakfast?”
“Perhaps I could grab a roll or something from the dining room before I head up to your office.”
“No need. I’ll have some food brought up.” He reached for his phone. “Tea or coffee?”
“Neither, thanks. A glass of water would be fine.”
He sneaked a glance at her as she pressed the elevator button. Shoulders tense and bag clutched in her hand, she looked as if she might explode. She probably didn’t want to risk ingesting stimulants. He could think of a few ways to help her relax, but none of them was appropriate in the circumstances.
Maybe later, though.
As they got on the elevator, he told one of the new kids who was interning for the summer to bring some eggs and toast and fruit up to the office. And a roll. And some juice and water. But even as he concentrated on ordering the food, he noticed how the enclosed space of