A Win-Win Proposition (2 page)

“No, really,” he assured her. “You look incredible.”

“Incredible, incredible?” she demanded, seeking clarity as she often had to do with him. “Or incredible for thirty?”

Ah, a milestone number. No wonder she'd freaked out. She was facing another decade. That was especially difficult for a woman with a ticking clock.

“Incredible.”

She pulled a face at him. “You probably think I'm over-reacting to the whole turning-thirty thing.” She paused so he could inject a comment, but Sebastian held his peace. “It's just that I always figured I'd get married at twenty-eight. Seemed perfect, you know? I'd have enough time for a career. Travel the world. Sow some wild oats. Make some mistakes.”

He couldn't picture Missy doing any of those things. She liked going to movies. Knitted prayer shawls for her church. Rescued cats and fostered them out. If any woman seemed doomed to stay close to home and live a quiet life, it would be Missy.

But that was before she turned up tonight looking like sin, smelling like heaven, and tasting like…?

He leaned forward and brushed his lips across her cheek.

Tasting like perfection.

She put her hand against her skin where he'd kissed her and regarded him warily. “What was that for?”

“Happy birthday.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I hope you're still feeling warm and fuzzy when you see what I spent on my birthday present.”

He shrugged. “You're worth it.”

Missy's lips opened into a perfect O. How had he never noticed how sexy her mouth was before? With a thin, arched upper lip and a plump, delectable lower one, her cupid bow mouth practically demanded he smear her perfectly applied brick-red lipstick.

Without warning, her fist shot out and hit him hard on his arm. “Damn you, Sebastian Case. You can be such a jerk.”

With that, she slipped off the stool and as soon as her shoes hit the patterned carpet, she was off. Rubbing the spot where she'd struck him, Sebastian stared after her in surprise. She had a hell of a punch for one so feminine. He launched himself off the stool as she neared the exit and tossed some bills on the bar before he raced after her.

She wasn't used to walking in four-inch heels so he caught up with her easily. Sliding his arm around her waist to offer her support as she stumbled, he murmured, “Where to?”

“I'm off to celebrate.” She pushed his hand away from her hip.

Sebastian's palm tingled as he strode after her. He rubbed his hands together, trying to eliminate the uncomfortable buzzing sensation, and watched the way Missy's determined stride gave her curves a little bounce and jiggle.

His ex-wife had been model thin and forever on a diet. She'd lacked the one thing he'd always adored in a woman, generous handfuls of breasts. That might account for why he'd lost interest in sex with her. Or perhaps he'd grown tired of her neediness. Her lies about being pregnant every time he talked about leaving her.

Missy veered to the right as Sebastian was cataloging all
the things that had gone wrong in his marriage. A beat later, he changed direction, stalking her down the row of gaming tables. She moved with purpose, seeming to know exactly where she was heading. He caught up to her at the roulette wheel.

“Do you have any idea what you're doing?” he demanded, certain he already knew the answer.

“I know exactly what I'm doing.” She pulled out a wad of cash. “I came here to blow this and I'm not leaving until I do.”

 

Missy had fallen in love with Las Vegas the second she'd stepped into the hotel lobby this afternoon. The ringing slot machines reminded her of the final bell before summer vacation. Flashing lights and the prospect of a big win around every corner unleashed her long-repressed wild child. She'd barely resisted the urge to dash into the casino and plunk down twenty dollars on the first blackjack table she came to. In a heartbeat, fifteen years of sensible living went out the window.

Sebastian set his hand on her arm and used his body to block her view of the roulette table. “You don't want to play this. It's one of the worst games for winning. Let's go play blackjack. The odds are better.”

His touch awakened a shiver despite the warmth of his skin. He restrained her with gentleness, but Missy knew he could call on steel if he ran out of patience.

Rich. Powerful. Used to getting his way. Intimidating when he didn't. A man in control of every aspect of his life. He never relaxed. Rarely smiled. Demanded excellence from everybody.

If she'd known what she was getting into before she'd accepted the position as his assistant, she probably would have run screaming from his office. Instead, she'd been drawn to the mystique of Sebastian Case, the elusive, gorgeous, exasperating millionaire businessman.

She shook off his grip. “I don't care.”

“You've gone completely mad. How much do you have there?” He plucked the bills from her hand and riffled through them. His lips puckered in a silent whistle.

Afraid he might hold on to the money in some misguided attempt to save her from herself, she snatched the cash back. “It's enough to buy the wedding dress of my dreams.”

If her use for the money surprised Sebastian, he didn't show it. “And how much is that?”

“Five thousand dollars.”

“That's a lot of money to bring to Las Vegas.” Concern deepened his voice into a dusky rumble.

Missy dodged eye contact, refusing to let his censure keep her from throwing caution to the wind. “It sure is. Took me two years to save it. I ate tuna sandwiches three days a week. I never bought any clothes unless they were on clearance. I limited myself to one movie and one dinner out per pay period.”

“Those are significant sacrifices,” he said with a straight face, but mockery hovered in the back of his eyes.

Missy tossed her head. What did he know about making sacrifices? He'd paid eight hundred thousand dollars for a home because he liked the neighborhood, then tore down the house so that he could spend another two million building something to his exacting taste. A mansion he barely lived in because he spent so much time at the office.

“They were,” she retorted, frustrated with everything in her life at the moment and taking it out on Sebastian because it was easier to blame him than face where she'd gone wrong. “Aren't you curious why I've decided to blow the money rather than buy the wedding dress of my dreams?”

“I'd love to know.” Calm and measured, he sounded like a firefighter talking a crazy lady off the ledge. “Let's go somewhere quiet so you can tell me the whole story.”

“I don't want to go somewhere quiet. My entire life has been quiet. I'm looking for a little excitement.”

A chance to run wild.

Sebastian's disapproving frown would not steer her off course. She was tired of behaving like a mouse when what she wanted to do was roar like a tiger.

Daughter of a small-town pastor, she'd been a free-spirited kid, breaking rules and flaunting authority. True to herself but a disappointment to her father and mother, Missy's carefree days had come to an end in high school when her mother suffered a stroke. Bound to a wheelchair, needing help with the simplest of tasks, she'd needed Missy to grow up fast. Missy had shouldered a lot of her mother's daily caretaking until her death after Missy's twenty-fifth birthday.

“Haven't you had enough excitement for one day?” Sebastian asked. “You had a makeover. You've had too much to drink. Let me take you back to your hotel room. We have a big day tomorrow.”

“I haven't even gotten started.” She turned to the roulette table and plunked down her wad of cash. “Five thousand in chips, please.”

Sebastian put a hand over the cash before the dealer could move. “Think about what you're doing here. That's a lot of money. Two years of saving and sacrificing.”

She tugged at his wrist but might as well have been an ant trying to move a mountain. Her efforts brought her in close to his body. His heat surrounded her, seeped into far corners of her soul where wild impulses waited to be set free. His masculine aftershave invaded her nostrils and sped along her already overstimulated nerve endings. She was teetering on the edge of something reckless.

“I know what I'm doing.” That was the furthest thing from the truth. She had no step-by-step plan. No clue if she was making good decisions. And she didn't care. For the first time in fifteen years, she was following her instincts wherever they led. Whatever the cost.

And it felt amazing.

“Miss?”

The dealer interrupted their argument and Missy shoved an elbow into Sebastian's ribs. With an oomph, he released her money.

“Five thousand in chips, please,” she repeated, turning her shoulder away from her boss's frustrated frown.

His disapproval made her uncomfortable. As she had done with her father, she'd grown accustomed to doing things the way Sebastian wanted them done. How many times had she let his opinion dominate hers? Too many to count.

And old habits were hard to break.

The wheel spun before she placed her bet. Annoyed that she'd second-guessed herself, Missy drummed her fingers and waited for the ball to drop.

“Don't throw your money away like this,” Sebastian said.

“Why not?” What good was being in Las Vegas if she couldn't do something that she'd regret even a little? “I was supposed to spend it on my wedding dress. That's not going to happen now.”

“You'll find someone,” Sebastian argued. “You'll get married.”

“I had someone.” He knew absolutely nothing about her, did he? “He dumped me.” Yesterday. The day before her birthday. Two years after she thought she'd be getting married, she was back to square one. No. Worse than that, she was two years older with fewer single men to choose from. “I'm sorry.”

“You should be. It's your fault.”

“My fault?” Usually he gazed at her in a neutral way as if he never truly saw her. At the moment he was assessing her with something other than his normal cool. “I don't see how.”

What was going on here? Sebastian regarded her as if she were a luscious chocolate truffle he wanted to devour. Unsettled, she stammered her first word. “H-he broke up with me because I wouldn't quit working for you.”

“Why would he care that you worked for me?”

Because he thinks I'm in love with you.

And, of course, she wasn't. Well, maybe she had been a little in the beginning. For the first year or so. But after Tim came along, she'd gotten over her feelings for her boss. Unrequited feelings. Feelings with no hope of ever being reciprocated.

She wasn't in Sebastian's league. He dated women with money and prestigious social status. She knew the type. For a time in high school, she'd dated a boy from the wealthiest family in town. She'd been as infatuated with his promises to take her out of west Texas as she'd been with the guy. But in the end, it was the sting of why he'd broken up with her and how he'd handled it that remained branded on her psyche.

“Tim hated how I went running whenever you called,” Missy continued. “Every one of our fights was over you. I should've quit a long time ago.”

“Why didn't you?”

In true Sebastian fashion, he arrowed straight to the heart of her dilemma. Her boss grasped underlying problems faster than anyone she'd ever known, including her father, who had an uncanny ability to read people. People, but not his daughter.

She couldn't answer his question. To do so would force her to admit that leaving his employ would be akin to chopping off her arm. She needed him in her life. Needed to be around him to feel alive.

How pathetic was that?

“I just did.” Only not soon enough because yesterday Tim had told her he'd met the girl of his dreams, and they were getting married. Her hands shook. “I waited for two years for him to propose.” Her throat tightened, blocking the next few words.

And he decided to marry someone else after only knowing her a month.

Tears dampened her eyes, but Missy blinked rapidly to make them go away. Facing her undesirability hurt too much. If she wasn't good enough for Tim, an unmotivated pharmaceutical salesman, who was she good enough for?

“Place your bets,” the dealer called as people began setting chips all over the table.

Missy pushed all her chips onto red. “Five thousand dollars on red.”

“Don't do this.” Sebastian spoke softly but it was a command.

“Why not?” She didn't attempt to keep defiance out of her voice. He needed to realize she wasn't his to boss around anymore. “It isn't as if I have anything left to lose. Not really.”

“Take the money and spend it on something of value. A new car. A down payment on a house. Something that will last longer than twenty seconds.”

Solid advice, but she could never look at the thing she'd bought with the money and not see her wedding dress. The gorgeous flowing gown of satin and lace with the gathered skirt and beaded bodice. She'd cut the picture out of a bridal magazine two years ago when she and Tim had had their first conversation about the future.

“Tell you what,” she began, feeling audacious and desirable beneath Sebastian's keen appraisal. Mad impulses had been driving her all day. Maybe turning thirty wasn't the worst thing that could have happened to her. Start a new decade with a new attitude. “I'll make you a bet.”

Sebastian set his hands on his hips and looked resigned. “What sort of a bet?”

“Last call,” the dealer announced.

Missy heard the wheel begin to spin and the ball start its journey around and around. From reading up on roulette, she knew she had a forty-seven percent chance of winning. Those weren't such bad odds.

“If the ball lands on black and I lose, I'll keep working for
you.” She gave a rueful smile. “I'll have to, won't I, because I'll be five thousand dollars poorer.”