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Authors: Nora Roberts

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BOOK: The Winning Hand
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“I know this might seem sudden,” Darcy began. “It’s the only one I looked at. But I had a picture in my head of what I wanted, and this … this was even better than that.”

“It’s …” Serena turned a last circle, then smiled. “Beautiful. It suits you so well. I think you’ve made a perfect choice.”

“Really? Really?” Swamped with joy, Darcy steepled her hands at her mouth. “I was afraid you’d think I was crazy.”

“There’s nothing crazy about wanting a home of your own, or investing in excellent property.”

“Oh, I wanted to show someone so badly. I raced back yesterday as soon as I’d signed the contract.
I wanted to show Mac, but he was busy, and well …”

She moved her shoulders and stepped away before she could see Serena’s troubled frown. As far as Serena knew, her son hadn’t been any busier the day before than normal.

“You told him you bought a house, but he didn’t have time to come out and take a look?”

“No, I just told him there was something I wanted him to see. I guess it’s silly, but I wanted him to see it first. Please don’t tell him about it.”

“No, I won’t. Darcy, why did you decide to buy a house here, in Vegas?”

“That.” Her response was instant as she walked over to the doorway to gaze out at the desert. “It pulls at me. For some people it’s water, for some it’s mountains, or it’s big, bustling cities. For me it’s the desert. I had no idea until I got here, and then I knew.”

Glowing with pleasure, she turned back. “And I love the Strip, the fantasy of it, the magic and the snap in the air that says anything can happen. Everything does happen. Everybody needs a place, don’t you think, that makes them believe they could accomplish something there? Even if it’s nothing more than being happy.”

“Yes, I do think that, and I’m glad you found it.” Still she crossed the room, brushed a hand over Darcy’s hair. “But it has to do with Mac, too, doesn’t it?” When Darcy didn’t answer, Serena smiled softly. “Darling. I can see how you feel about him.”

“I can’t help being in love with him.”

“Of course, you can’t. Why should you? But is the house for him, Darcy?”

“It could be,” she murmured. “But it’s for me first. It has to be. I need a home. I need a place. That’s what I’m doing here. I know I can’t expect him to feel about me the way I do about him. But I’m willing to gamble. If I lose, at least I’ll know I played the game. No more watching from behind the window,” she murmured.

“My money’s on you.”

Darcy’s grin flashed like sunlight. “I ought to tell you that I’ve fallen in love with Mac’s family,
too.”

“Oh, baby.” Serena wrapped her close, rubbing cheeks, and reminded herself she hadn’t raised any idiots. Mac would come to his senses soon. “Show me the rest of the house.”

“Yes, and I was hoping you could go with me to look at furniture.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Darcy was glad to be busy, to have so many details juggling for space in her mind. Colors, fabrics, lamps. Should she convert the smallest bedroom into a library or would the downstairs den suit that purpose best?

Did she want ficus trees flanking the doorway on the main level, or palms?

Every decision was monumentally important to her, and a giddy delight.

Though she yearned to share them all with Mac, they’d had no time alone together for two days.

He was putting all his efforts into keeping his mind occupied and off her. Time, he’d decided, and space were what both of them needed to ease back far enough and analyze their relationship.

He missed her miserably.

Freedom was undoubtedly what she needed, he told himself. He paced his office, giving up on the idea of work. She hadn’t called him again, and from the information he’d discreetly drawn from the staff, she’d been spending nearly as much time out of the hotel as in it.

Flexing those fairy wings, he imagined.

He hadn’t let her do that, not really. He’d carried her along, deluding himself initially that he was helping her, then justifying the rest because he’d wanted her.

And still wanted her.

She’d come into his life lost and wounded and desperate for affection. He’d taken advantage of
that. It hardly mattered what his motives were, the results were the same.

He imagined she believed herself in love with him. The idea had crossed his mind more than once to take advantage of that as well. To keep her for himself. To see that she went on believing it as long as possible.

After all, she had no experience. No man had touched her before he had touched her. She’d tumbled from a sheltered existence into a dazzling fantasy world. He could sweep her along in that world, keep her dazzled. And his.

It would be easy. And unforgivable.

He cared far too much to trap her, to clip those wings and watch the innocence tarnish. Her life was just beginning, he reminded himself. And his was already set.

Then she burst into his office, her eyes huge, her cheeks wax pale. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I know you’re busy. I know I shouldn’t disturb you, but—but—”

“What is it? Are you hurt?” He had his hands on her in one thumping heartbeat.

“No, no.” She shook her head frantically, clutched at his shirt. “I’m okay. No, I’m not okay. I don’t know what I am. I sold my book. I sold my book. Sold it. Oh God, I’m dizzy.”

“Sold it? Take slow breaths, come on, slow and deep. That’s it, I thought the book wasn’t finished.”

“The other one. The one—last year. She said the new one, too. Both of them.” Giving up, she dropped her forehead to his chest. “I need a minute. I can’t think straight.” Then she jerked her head up again, laughing wildly. “It’s like sex. Maybe I should have a cigarette.”

“Have a seat instead.”

“No, I can’t sit down. I’d bounce right off the chair. They bought the book, no, the books. Two-book contract. Can you imagine? I beat the odds. Again.”

“Who bought the book, Darcy? And how?”

“Oh, okay.” She gulped in another breath. “A few days ago I got a call from an editor in New York. Eminence Publishing. She’d seen me on the news, and she asked me to send her some of my work.”

“A few days ago?” The stab of disappointment was sharp and sudden. “You never mentioned it.”

“I wanted to wait until I had an answer. Boy, have I got one now.” She pressed her fingers to her eyes as tears swam close. “I’m not going to cry, not yet. I picked an agent off my list. I knew the publisher only wanted to see my work because of the publicity, but there was a chance they’d like it. So I hired an agent.”

“Over the phone.”

“Yes.” The obvious disapproval in his tone made her sigh. “I know it was risky, but I didn’t want to wait. The agent called this morning and said they’d made an offer, a very decent offer. Then she advised me to turn it down.”

As if that part were just sinking in, Darcy pressed a hand to her stomach. “I couldn’t believe it. I had a chance like this, what I’ve wanted all my life, and she said to say no.”

“Why?”

“That’s what I asked her. She said …” Darcy closed her eyes, reliving the moment. “She said I had a strong talent, that I told a powerful story, and they were going to have to pay more for it. If they balked, she told me she would take the book to auction. She believed in me. So I took the chance. Ten minutes ago, they bought them both. Now I think I’ll sit down.”

She all but slid into a chair.

“I’m so happy for you, Darcy.” He crouched in front of her. “So proud of you.”

“All my life I wanted this. No one ever believed in me.” She let the tears come now. “‘Be sensible, Darcy. Keep your feet on the ground.’ And I always was. I always did because I never thought I was good enough for more.”

“You’re good enough for anything,” he murmured. “More than good enough.”

She shook her head. “I always wanted to be. When I was in school, I worked so hard. Both my parents were teachers, and I knew how important it was to them. But no matter how much I put into it, I brought home B’s instead of A’s. They’d look at my report card, and there’d be this silent little sigh.
They’d tell me I’d done well, but I could do better if I just worked harder. I couldn’t do better. Just couldn’t. It was the best I could do, but it was never good enough.”

“They were wrong.”

“They didn’t mean to be so critical. They just didn’t understand.” Wanting the anchor, she held tight to his hands. “I used to show them the stories I’d write, just once wanting them to be impressed, enthusiastic. It just wasn’t in them, so I stopped showing them. And I stopped looking for their approval, at least outwardly.”

She sighed, wiped at her face with her fingers. “I never sent off the first book. Couldn’t find the courage to. I suppose inside I was always hoping, waiting for someone to tell me I was good enough. Now I’ve done it, and someone has.”

“Here.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it into her hands.

“I’m not sad.” She sniffled, mopped at her face. “There’s just so much going on inside me. So many things have been happening. I had to tell you.”

“I’m glad you did. News like this can’t wait.” He framed her face in his hands, and after a brief internal struggle, pressed his lips to her forehead rather than her mouth. “We’ll have to celebrate.” He let his hands linger on her face a moment, then dropped them and rose. “We’ll get together for drinks and you can tell me your plans.”

“Plans?”

“You’ll want to fly into New York for a few days, I imagine. Meet your publisher, your agent.”

“Yes, maybe next week.”

So soon, he thought, and suffered as he looked down at her tear-streaked face and made the break. “You’ll be missed around here,” he said lightly. “I hope you’ll keep in touch, let us know where you settle.”

“Settle. But … I’m coming back here.”

“Here?” He lifted a brow, then smiled. “Darcy, as delighted as we’ve been to have you, you can’t
keep living in a high roller’s suite.” He laughed a little and sat on the edge of his desk. “A high roller, you’re not. You’re more than welcome to stay until you finalize your travel plans.”

He was running a business, she thought frantically. She’d been taking advantage of his generosity, occupying an expensive suite for two weeks. “I hadn’t thought. I’m sorry. I’ll book another room when I get back until—”

“Darcy, there’s no reason for you to come back here.”

“Of course there is.” Her heart began to flutter hard in her throat. “I live here.”

“The Comanche’s not your home. It’s mine.” He wasn’t smiling now, and his eyes had gone cool and hard. It was the only way he could face the stunned hurt on her face. “It’s time for you to start your own life, and you can’t do that here. You’ve accomplished something really extraordinary. Now enjoy it.”

“You don’t want me anymore. You’re not just kicking me out of your hotel. You’re kicking me out of your life.”

“No one’s kicking you out of anything.”

“No?” She managed a half laugh and balled the handkerchief in her fist. “How stupid do you think I am? You’ve been avoiding me for days. You’ve barely touched me since I came in the room. Now you’re giving me a little pat on the head and telling me to run along and have a nice life.”

“I do want you to have a nice life,” he began.

“As long as it’s somewhere else,” she retorted. “Well, that’s too bad, because I’m having my life here. I bought a house.”

He’d prepared himself for a miserable scene, for tears, for recriminations. But he was stunned speechless. “What? You bought what?”

“I bought a house.”

“Have you lost your mind? A house? Here? What were you thinking of?”

“Myself. It’s a new concept for me and I like it.”

“You don’t buy a damn house the way you do a new dress.”

“I’m not the bubble-brain you apparently think I am. I know how to buy a house, and I’ve done it.”

“You have no business buying a house in Vegas.”

“Oh really?” Her emotions were careering so fast she didn’t know how her words could keep pace. “Do you own the entire city and its environs now? Well, I seem to have found the one little spot you don’t have control over. I like it here, and I’m staying.”

“Life is not an endless cruise down the Strip.”

“And Vegas is not only the Strip. It’s the fastest growing city in the country, and one of the most livable. It has an excellent school system, job opportunities abound and the housing is very affordable. Water’s a problem, and that’s an issue that’s going to have to be seriously addressed in the near future. However, the crime rate is markedly low in comparison with other major cities and the area’s continuing ability to reinvent itself gives it high marks for potential into the next century.”

She paused, her eyes glittering when he said nothing. “I’m a writer. I was a librarian. I damn well know how to research.”

“Did your research mention how many pawnshops are in Vegas per square mile? Did it touch on prostitution, corruption, money laundering, gambling addictions?”

“Actually, it did,” she said evenly now. “Sin exists. It may shock you to know I was aware of it before I came here.”

“You simply haven’t thought this through.”

“You’re wrong. Absolutely wrong. I didn’t buy this house blind, and I didn’t buy it so I could keep falling at your feet. I bought it for me,” she said fiercely. “Because I found something I always wanted and never expected to have. But don’t worry, Vegas is big enough so that I won’t get in your way.”

BOOK: The Winning Hand
4.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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