She shook her head, made herself smile.
“I’ll be here every night until you say yes.”
Every night? Just how long—“Are you here on business?”
“I’m not sure how to answer that. It’s supposed to be pleasure, but it’s someone else’s definition of pleasure. I’ll be here for a month.”
A month! She gripped the counter. Everything would be different in a month. Now what? What should she tell him? And when? She needed to figure out what to say.
But not tonight. Not tonight. Tomorrow would be soon enough. Nothing would change in that time.
“Do you need a ride home?” he asked.
“I have my own car, thanks.”
“I’ll walk you to it.” His tone was more order than offer.
She’d never responded well to orders. “I have something to do first. I’m sure we’ll cross paths another time.” Take a hint, Mr. Campbell. You are dismissed. She turned away, took a few steps.
“What are you afraid of, Nicole?” he asked, his voice carrying enough that Ann-Marie looked in their direction.
She stalked back to him. “Why are you pressuring me?” she whispered harshly.
“That was a helluva night we spent together.”
So. He was looking for an encore. What had she expected? Love at first sight? “That was then. Good night.” She walked away, taking refuge in the office again and watching the lobby through the window. Seconds later she saw him head toward the parking lot exit.
Someone waved a hand up and down in front of the window then stepped into view. She focused abruptly on the man standing on the other side of the door, grinning.
She grinned back. Who could resist? Juan Torres was the sweetest man on the face of the earth. She opened the door.
“Thanks so much for staying the extra hour,” Juan said as he pinned his assistant manager badge onto his jacket. “I owe you.”
“I’m sure I’ll be calling in the marker.” She handed him a sheet listing the problems that had arisen during her shift, then pointed to one in particular. “The guest in 1015 has changed rooms three times since he got here at six o’clock.”
“What’s his problem?”
“Room’s too close to the elevators. View’s lousy. Noisy neighbors.”
“Ah. The usual. Trying to get us to comp him.”
She started to answer, then saw Mr. Room 1015 approaching the desk, his stare steely, his stride determined, obviously back for round four. “Saved by the time clock,” Nicole murmured with relief. “See you tomorrow, Juan.”
Nicole grabbed her purse and called a good-night to the front-desk personnel, glad to be on her way home. She needed to be alone, to think. To come up with the right words to say to Devlin Campbell.
“Wait,” Ann-Marie said, hurrying to catch up, then matching her stride. “I want to make sure you get to your car okay.”
Nicole couldn’t help but smile. Ann-Marie was five years younger, yet she was mothering Nicole. “I’m fine.” She set a hand on her belly, emphasizing her point. “We’re fine.”
“Humor me. I’m headed your way, anyway.”
A few seconds later they reached the exit door to the parking lot. Devlin stepped in front of her, startling her, blocking the exit. His green eyes cold and hard, he stared into hers, then dropped his gaze to her belly.
“Um, you…go ahead,” she said to Ann-Marie, who looked back and forth between Nicole and Devlin.
“Are you sure? I mean—”
“It’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Nicole motioned Ann-Marie toward the door, then waited for Devlin to speak, aiming for calm, but failing. Fate. She couldn’t seem to escape this man.
He moved closer. “Is it mine?”
Two
Dev waited for her response, then waited some more. If her answer was yes, it should’ve come instantly. He took a longer look at her, surprised that he hadn’t noticed right away. But a minute ago when she’d curved her hand over a bump that hadn’t been there when they’d made love in January, he’d calculated the time gap. Four months. His older sister was five months pregnant, her condition a little more visible. Still, every pregnancy was different—and every woman—or so Dev’d heard his sister say.
Maybe it wasn’t his. Maybe his assumption was wrong. Had she turned down his invitation for dinner or a drink because she carried another man’s baby? Had she cheated on that man in January? She’d never told him her last name. Maybe because—
“Were you spying on me?” she asked, shock, or maybe anger, coating her words.
“I was looking out for you. Making sure you made it to your car safely.”
“I get myself safely to my car five nights a week.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
She crossed her arms. “Of course it’s yours.”
Of course? The casino sights and sounds faded as the shock of her acknowledgment ripped through him. Could he believe her?
“You took a long time to answer. Too long,” he said, mimicking her posture.
“Not because I was lying.”
“It’s not looking like that to me, Nicole.”
She finally softened a bit, losing a little of her defensive posture. “I didn’t want to tell you here, among all these people and the noise.”
“You should have told me months ago.”
“I know. Devlin, please. This is where I work. Several coworkers have already walked by and stared.”
“Fine. Let’s go.” He cupped her elbow, propelling her forward, but she broke away.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
No surprise there. “We apparently have a lot to talk about.”
“I agree. But not tonight. I’ll meet you tomorrow.”
He didn’t want to give her time to fine-tune her story. He wanted the raw, uncut version. Otherwise, how could be believe her? “Why didn’t you tell me? You had access to the guest data. I’m sure you found out my name and address.”
“I’ll give you all the details…tomorrow.”
Short of kidnapping her, he couldn’t make her come with him. Security would be all over him. “You won’t skip town?”
“I promise.”
“Like that’s supposed to mean something?”
“You know where I work. How can I avoid you?”
“What’s your last name?”
“Price.”
Ah, the irony. There was going to be a Price to pay for falling into bed with a stranger, and then, like an idiot, not using protection. He pulled out a business card and pen, wrote down the address and phone number of the lodge, then passed it to her. “Here’s where I’m staying. Do you need directions?”
She shook her head. “Every local knows about that lodge. Is it yours?”
“No. What time should I expect you?”
“I have to be at work at noon, so how about eleven