“Absolutely serious.” He’d closed the gap between them, and his broad shoulders blocked her view of the house. “You could have try your luck at the slot machines.”
“I intend to do more than try my luck at the machines,” she informed him. “My plan is to gamble all night—in the casino.”
“That’s a serious rebellion.” His eyes crinkled as his grin broadened. “And I’m sure I can accommodate such a plan.”
“Are you laughing at me?” she asked suspiciously, flicking her hair back over her shoulder.
“Why should I laugh at you?”
Because he considered her too staid, too much of a Goody Two-shoes to take him up on his offer? She took in his stance. His weight was perfectly balanced on both feet. In the shadows, his white shirtfront was a startling contrast to his dark, hawkish features. The rash urge to surprise him rose before she could check it. Why shouldn’t she take him up on his invitation to go gamble in Vegas?
Laurel drew a deep breath and said in a rush, “My mother was a Winthrop.”
She paused expectantly.
When Rakin didn’t react, she said, “I forget. To people not from the South, the name is meaningless. But in South Carolina the Winthrops have always been a force to be reckoned with.” She gave him a quick smile. “Sounds terribly snobbish, I know. But in Charleston they’re an old, well-established family who fell on hard times. A result of bad business decisions—although the decline had started way back. My Winthrop great-great uncle was infamous for his ability to gamble huge sums on property and poker—he lost at both.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She shrugged. “It got worse. By the 1970s the family fortune had been exhausted, but the Winthrops were still determined to hang on to a lifestyle they could no longer afford. That meant a new injection of cash to maintain their social standing—cash that came from the Kincaid shipping and—ironically—real estate profits.” Laurel gave him a wry smile. “The Kincaids must’ve been better at gambling on property—or, at least, more astute. As luck would have it, at the same time that the Winthrop family fortune was in decline, my Kincaid grandfather was trying to scale the old money bastions of Charleston, which—despite his rapidly growing nouveau riche wealth—had proved impenetrable up till that point. So he pressured my father into marrying my mother.”
He stepped closer. “You sound cynical.”
“Cynicism is not a usual characteristic of mine, believe it or not.” Laurel shifted back until she could feel the hard balustrade against her hip through the delicate fabric of her dress. “But I don’t think the way the older Winthrops or Kincaids behaved was particularly admirable—they brokered a marriage between my parents for their own gain.”
“It is how things used to be done in powerful families.” Rakin shrugged. “But your parents would have to bear part of the responsibility for agreeing to the arrangement.”
“My mother fell in love with Reginald Kincaid.” Laurel gave him sad smile. “He was handsome, witty—what woman can resist a man with a sense of humor?—and he had the means to restore the family fortune. A veritable knight in shining armor. She never stood a chance.” She let out a shuddering breath. “Why am I telling you this? We’re here to celebrate Kara’s wedding, not cry over the past.”
“Don’t let your parents’ choices in the past color your future,” he said softly. “Come to Vegas—I’ll take you gambling if that’s what you want. Or we could just enjoy ourselves for a weekend.”
Two … maybe three … days. What harm could come from a few days of pure pleasure? There was something quite wildly wicked in doing a deed that had always been frowned upon in her family—her great uncle had a lot to answer for.
“You make it sound very tempting.”
“But?”
So he’d detected her hesitation. “I don’t know….”
“You are getting cold feet.”
He was one hundred percent correct. Despite the warmth of the balmy evening, she was most definitely getting cold feet. She drew in a deep breath, conscious of the pungent scent of jasmine on the night air. The sweet familiarity of the fragrance made the conversation she was having with Rakin seem even more surreal. “I shouldn’t even be considering such a crazy invitation.”
“Of course you should. It’s what you want to do.”
Right again.
Could he see inside her head?
Instantly all the reasons why she shouldn’t go rolled through her mind. Who would follow up with Detective McDonough? With Nikki Thomas? Who would look after her mother? Her sisters? For a moment she considered that her mother had Cutter now, her sisters were both married. It would be liberating to break free of everything for a couple of days.
Enjoy herself. Have some fun. Abandon the responsibilities that were weighing her down.
Get a life.
Was it already too late? Had she forgotten how to live? Laurel glanced up at the man who was offering her the biggest temptation of her life. His lips were still curved into a smile, the lower one full and passionate. Her gaze lingered there. Kiss a stranger. So much riskier than flirting. But oh so tempting …
She looked quickly away.
The sound of light footsteps on the balcony freed her from making a decision. Susannah, Matt’s fiancée, was bearing down on them. Giving Rakin a curious glance, she said, “Laurel, your presence is required. Kara’s about to throw her bouquet.”
Laurel’s shoulders sagged with relief. Tossing Rakin a small smile, she said, “I must go—duty summons.”
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
He didn’t need to say that he would expect an answer; that was implicit in his intent regard. Her smile turned sultry. Flirtatious, even. She was finally getting the hang of it. “I’ll hold you to that.”
A swarm of women had taken to the dance floor. Young and old—it appeared that every unmarried woman in Charleston wanted to catch the bouquet tonight.
Laurel’s heart sank as she took in the spectacle. She came to a dead halt. “There are already enough desperate wannabe brides here, you don’t need me to make up numbers.”
“Kara specifically said she wanted you here,” Susannah said sotto voce, shepherding Laurel forward.
As they reached the outskirts of the dance floor, Elizabeth joined them. “Hurry, Laurel. Kara’s been waiting for you.”
Laurel glanced from Susannah to her mother, and her tipsiness evaporated. “Do I detect a conspiracy?”
“Oh, no.” Though both Susannah and her mother denied it, their eyes were stretched too wide.
Reluctantly, Laurel let her mother drag her into the center of the group.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of a tall, dark man in a beautifully tailored tuxedo. Rakin. Her head jerked about. He was standing beside her brother Matt—and she spotted RJ, and Daniel, Lily’s husband, too. As she watched Alan Sinclair joined them. All of them were grinning. But it was Rakin’s dark gaze that brought tremors of excitement to Laurel’s stomach.
I’ll be waiting. The memory of his whispered words caused the excitement to rise another notch.
What answer was she going to give him?
“Laurel!”
At the sound of her mother’s voice, her head whipped around guiltily.
“You need