The Winning Hand (15 page)

Mac had a lot on his mind. The media was executing a full-court press, scrambling for access to Darcy. Reporters were wild for interviews and personal data. The morning editions, both local and national, had played variations on the theme.

Little Darcy from Kansas Hits Yellow Brick Road

From Kansas to Oz On Three-Dollar Bet

Over the Rainbow with a Million for Kansas Librarian

Normally he would have been amused, and certainly pleased at the positive publicity the story generated for Comanche Vegas. Reservations in the hotel were soaring, and he had no doubt that the casino would be three deep at the slots and tables as long as the story was hot.

He could handle the demands on his time, the incessant requests for interviews and photos. He could add staff to each shift, and intended to work the floor himself during peak periods. In fact, his parents had already agreed to extend their stay a few days and pitch in. And he preferred, just now, to have his plate overfull.

God knows he needed the distraction to keep his mind off his libido. It was suddenly and insistently on edge due to one small, big-eyed woman with a shy smile.

He wasn’t inclined toward a serious relationship and certainly didn’t intend to become involved with an innocent, naive woman who didn’t know the difference between a straight and a flush.

He considered himself a disciplined man who knew how to control his baser instincts and resist temptations. He didn’t play at love like his brother, Duncan. Nor did he consider it a pesky fly to be swatted aside like his sister Amelia. And he certainly had no intention of settling down and raising a family at this stage of his life as his sister Gwen was doing.

For Mac, love was something to be dealt with eventually, when there was time, when the odds were favorable and when there was a good chance of raking in all the chips.

He wanted what his parents had. Perhaps he hadn’t realized that quite so clearly until Darcy had pointed out just what they did have together. But he could admit he had always used them as his
yardstick where relationships were concerned.

It was undoubtedly the reason he’d avoided any long-term or serious ones up to this point.

He enjoyed women, but involvement beyond a certain level led to complications, and complications invariably led to hurt on one side or the other. He’d been very careful not to hurt any of the women who had brushed in and out of his life.

He had no intention of breaking that particular rule now.

As far as Darcy Wallace was concerned, he’d decided it was a bad bet all around. She was too inexperienced, too vulnerable.

He was setting her firmly off-limits. Friendship, he ordered himself. A steadying hand until she had her feet firmly under her, and nothing more.

Then he stepped onto the rooftop garden and saw her. She was sitting at one of the tables, her big, elfin eyes wide and intent on his grandfather’s face. Their heads were close together, like conspirators, he thought, and wondered what the hell was going on between them.

She looked so … fragile, he decided, so slimly built with those pretty, ringless hands clasped together like a schoolgirl’s. She’d worked a foot out of one strappy sandal, and was waving the shoe by a single strap hooked around toes painted a soft shell pink.

The image that flashed through his mind of nibbling on those pretty toes and working his way up those slender legs had him muttering a curse.

Lust, something he normally accepted and enjoyed, was currently driving him mad.

Irritation still simmered in his eyes as he stepped through the palms and up to the table. Daniel leaned back, beamed and wiggled his eyebrows. “Well, there’s a likely lad. Want some coffee, boy?”

“I could do with a cup.” Because he knew Daniel well, Mac didn’t trust him a whit. He scraped back a chair, straddled it and met his grandfather’s cheerful gaze. “What’s going on here?”

“Why, I’m having breakfast with this pretty young thing, which you’d be doing yourself if you weren’t slow-witted.”

“I’ve got a casino to run,” Mac said shortly, and turned his sharp eyes to Darcy. “Did you get some rest?”

“Yes, plenty, thank you.” She jolted when Daniel thumped his fist on the table.

“God Almighty, boy, is that any way to greet a woman in the morning? Why aren’t you telling her how pretty she looks, or asking her if she’ll take a drive with you this evening?”

“I’m working this evening,” Mac said mildly.

“The day a MacGregor can’t find time for a sweet-eyed woman is a sorry day. A sorry day, indeed. You’d like a drive, wouldn’t you, lass, up into the hills in the moonlight?”

“I—yes, but—”

“There.” Daniel thumped his fist again. “Are you going to do something about this, boy, or do I have to hang my head in shame?”

Considering, Mac picked up the cigar smoldering in the ashtray. He studied it thoughtfully, turned it in his hand. “And what’s this?” Lifting his brow, Mac smiled thinly at his grandfather. “This wouldn’t be yours, would it, Grandpa?”

Daniel’s gaze slid away. He studied his own fingernails intently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now—”

“Grandma would be very displeased if she thought you were sneaking cigars behind her back again.” Idly Mac tapped the ash. “Very displeased.”

“It’s mine,” Darcy blurted out, and both men turned to stare at her.

“Yours?” Mac said in a voice that dripped like honey.

“Yes.” She jerked her shoulder in what she hoped was an arrogant shrug. “So what?”

“So …” Mac’s teeth flashed in a grin. “Enjoy,” he suggested, and handed her the cigar.

The challenge in his eyes left her little choice. Defiantly she took a puff. Her head spun, her throat closed, but she managed to muffle most of the cough. “It’s very smooth.” She wheezed as she choked on smoke.

Her eyes teared as she gamefully puffed again. Mac had to resist an urge to tug her into his lap and nuzzle her. “I can see that. Want a brandy to go with it?”

“Not before lunch.” She coughed again, felt her stomach pitch. “Your grandfather—” She coughed, blinked away tears. “Your grandfather and I were discussing business.”

“Don’t let me stop you. Done with this?” He picked up a slice of her bacon. He bit in neatly then grinned. She was turning a very interesting shade of green. “Put that down, darling, before you pass out.”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“You’re a rare one, Darcy.” Adoring her, Daniel rose. He tipped up her chin, kissed her full on the mouth. “I’ll get started on that business we were speaking of.” He sent his grandson a glowering look. “Don’t shame me, Robbie.”

“Who’s Robbie?” Darcy asked dizzily when Daniel strode off.

“I am, to him, occasionally.”

“Oh.” She smiled. “That’s sweet.”

“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Mac muttered, and took the cigar from her fingers. “I didn’t think you’d do it.”

She let her reeling head fall back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

With a sigh, Mac picked up her water glass and held it to her lips. “Did you really think I’d rat on him? Come on, sip a little. The smoke’s made you punchy.”

“It’s not so bad. I kind of like it.” She turned her head to smile at him. “You wouldn’t have told? About the cigar.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered. My grandmother knows he sneaks them every chance he gets.”

“I wish he were my grandfather. I think he’s the most wonderful man in the world.”

“He likes you, too. Steady now?”

“I’m fine.” She studied what was left of the cigar as it smoked in the ashtray. “I may just take it
up.” But she drank the water again to cool her throat. “He shouldn’t have teased you that way, about taking me for a drive.”

With a few deliberate taps, Mac put out the cigar. “He’s decided you suit me.”

“Oh.” The idea wound through her mind, then warmed her heart. “Really?”

“The MacGregor’s fondest wish is to see all of his grandchildren married and producing babies. And the more he has to do with it, the better. He actually arranged for my sister, and two of my cousins to meet men he’d specifically picked out for them.”

“What happened?”

“In those cases, it worked, which only makes him more difficult to control. He’s on a streak. And just now …” He angled his head, skimmed his gaze over her face. “He’s decided you’ll do for me.”

“I see.” She supposed the quick thrill and sense of glee was inappropriate. But it was very hard to control the curve of her lips. “I’m flattered.”

“So you should be. I am, after all, the eldest grandchild—and he’s a fussy man when it comes to family.”

“But it irritates you.”

“Mildly,” he admitted. “As much as I love him, I’ve no intention of going along with his grand schemes. I apologize if he got you out here this morning to put ideas in your head, but I’m not looking for marriage.”

Her eyes went wide and dark. “Excuse me?”

“I suspected, when I was told the two of you were together up here, that he’d been planting seeds.”

The warmth that had settled inside her iced over and went rock hard. “And, of course, someone like me would be fertile ground for such seeds.”

Her tone was so quiet, so pleasant, he missed the flash. “He can’t help it. And your name being Wallace put a cap on it. Strong Scot blood,” he said with a grin and a burr. “He’d consider you tailor-made to bear my children.”

“And since you’re not in the market for a wife or children, you thought it only fair to nip in the bud any ideas he might have planted in my vulnerable mind in that area.”

He caught the underlying frost in the tone now. “More or less,” he agreed, cautiously. “Darcy—”

“You arrogant, self-important,
insulting
son of a bitch.” She sprang to her feet so abruptly the table jerked. The water glass toppled over and crashed on the tiles as she stood vibrating with temper, her fists clenched and eyes blazing. “I’m not the empty-headed, dim-witted,
needy
fool you seem to think I am.”

“That’s not what I meant.” More than a little wary, he got to his feet. “That’s not at all what I meant.”

“Don’t stand there and tell me what you didn’t mean. I know perfectly well when I’m being considered a corn-for-brains moron. You’re not the first who’s made that mistake, but I swear to God, you’re going to be the last. I’m perfectly aware that you don’t want me.”

“I never said—”

“Do you think I don’t know I’m not your type?” Furious, she shoved the chair into the table, and sent another glass crashing. “You prefer big-busted showgirls with eight feet of leg and yards of hair.”

“What? Where the hell did that come from?”

Straight out of her dream the night before, but she’d be damned if she’d tell him. “I don’t have any delusions about you. Just because I would have slept with you doesn’t mean I expected you to sweep me off to the altar. If all I wanted was marriage, I could have stayed exactly where I was.”

She still looked like a fairy, he noted, one who could—and would—spitefully turn an incautious man into a braying jackass. “Before you break any more glassware, let me apologize.” He put a restraining hand on the back of the chair before she could jam it into the table again. “I didn’t want my grandfather to put you in an uncomfortable position.”

“You’ve accomplished that all on your own.” Mortification mixed with temper to send her color high. “It may surprise you to know that I asked Daniel to meet me here this morning, and—though it may crush your outrageous ego—it had nothing whatsoever to do with you. It was a business meeting,”
she said rather grandly.

“Business?” He squinted against the sun. “What sort of business?”

“I don’t believe that’s any of your concern,” she told him coldly. “But since you’ll undoubtedly harass Daniel over it, I’ll tell you. Daniel has agreed to be my financial advisor.”

Intrigued, Mac slipped his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels. “You asked him to handle your money?”

“Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”

“No.” Hoping to cool her off a bit, he smiled and inclined his head. “You couldn’t do better.”

“Precisely.”

And he, Mac thought, couldn’t have done any worse. “Darcy—”

“I don’t want your apology.” Her voice glittered with ice. “I don’t want your excuses or your pitiful reasons. I believe we both understand perfectly well the status of our relationship.” She snatched up her purse. “You can bill me for the cost of the glasses.”

He couldn’t stop the wince as she stormed off, slapping her way though the palms. He had both feet up to the knees in his mouth, he decided, grimacing at the sparkle of shattered glass on the tiles.

Getting them out would be the first problem, he thought.

The second problem would be a great deal more complex.

Just how was he going to deal with the fact that the woman who had just ripped the skin off his hide utterly fascinated him?

For the next two days Darcy concentrated on her writing. For the first time in her life, she decided, she was going to do what she wanted, when she wanted. If she wanted to work until three in the morning and sleep until noon, there was no one to criticize her habits. Dinner at midnight? Why not?

It was her life now, and sometime during those first furious hours, she realized she was finally living it.

She was going to miss Daniel, she thought. He’d returned East the day before, with a promise to keep in close contact on the investments he was making for her. He’d issued an open invitation for her to visit his home in Hyannis Port.

Darcy intended to take him up on it. She’d grown very fond of the MacGregors. They were warm, generous and delightful people—even if one particular member of the clan was arrogant, insulting and infuriating.

He actually thought sending her flowers was going to make up for it. She sniffed as she glanced over at the lush arrangement of three dozen silvery white roses she’d instructed the bellman to place on the conference table. They were the most beautiful flowers she’d ever seen—which he undoubtedly knew, she thought, hardening her heart as she sat at the desk.

She hadn’t acknowledged them, or the sweet basket of button-eyed daisies that stood perkily on her bathroom counter, or the vase of stunning tropical blooms that graced the bureau in the bedroom.