Razzmatazz-DDL (3 page)

As long as you want to have
.... Did he have any idea how enticing those words were? His actions mirrored his sincerity and concern, and she was reminded of Chris’s earlier remark in the airport. She could very easily picture this man hovering over a sick puppy or taking a lost waif under his wing.... But why was she haunted by the thought that there was more here than met the eye?

With Chris’s clean profile so clearly etched in her mind, Kennie found herself comparing the men and realizing her initial impression of Alex as part of a perfect pair was merely that—an impression. At close quarters, she couldn’t ignore the fact that his nose had an interesting bump, his cheek a tiny scar, his chin a determined thrust quite unlike his friend’s.

His tuxedo fit his wide shoulders and slender torso as if it were tailored expressly for him; everything about him, from head to toe, bespoke style and money.
 

But still...something jarred. His eyes never really relaxed; his mind always seemed to jump one step ahead. It was almost as if he wore elegance like a calculated veneer, and she was afraid to scratch the surface and see what was beneath it.

“I’m famished,” she announced, and broke from his arms. She tore her gaze away from his and saw that his seemingly aimless dancing had positioned them near their table. The aroma of hot bread wafted its way up to her, and her stomach clenched with hunger.
 

“Lord, yes, this is exactly what I need,” she moaned, sinking into the barrel-backed leather chair. Reaching across her salad for the steaming rolls, she caught the two men exchanging amused glances. “Well, you don’t have to stare. After all, it’s hours after any decent person’s suppertime.”

“I love a woman who knows her own baser instincts.” Chris lifted the champagne bottle to fill her glass.

“No.” Kennie covered her glass and the bubbly liquid splashed over her hand. Embarrassed, she jerked her hand away and groped for the napkin in her lap. “I don’t care for wine.”

“What a waste of a perfectly good year,” Chris lamented. Spying the sudden gleam in his eyes, Kennie tightened her hand into a fist. No telling what capricious whim had entered his head, and she wouldn’t put it past him to lick her fingers clean, all in the name of frugality.

But it was Alex who eased her hand out of her lap and gently stroked her fingers and palms dry with his napkin. “We’ll order you another drink. What would you like?” His nonchalant voice bore no detectable resemblance to the tingling feelings his ministrations were evoking.

A barmaid clad in a scanty silver lame mini-toga glided by, balancing a tray high over her head. Kennie glimpsed a tall, fruity concoction with orange slices and maraschino cherries suspended in its citrusy depths. She pulled her hand free from Alex’s and gestured toward the tray. “What’s that?”

Alex beckoned to the waitress, and she paused between him and Chris.

“The lady is interested in that drink.” Chris flicked a languid finger toward the tall glass.

“It’s the specialty of the house. Ambrosia punch. It’s similar to planter’s punch, with a dollop of coconut amaretto.”

“Ambrosia?” Kennie’s face lit up. “What a coincidence….” She looked longingly at the glass. “But this one is for someone else.”

“I’ll be glad to bring you one.”

But when Chris pulled a bill from his wallet and dropped it on the tray, the waitress dipped demurely and placed the drink in front of Kennie.

“Would you care for something else?” She smiled, retrieving the bill.

“Please bring the lady some iced tea,” Alex requested firmly, and the waitress nodded and glided back in the direction she’d come from.

“I’ve always had a weakness for redheads,” Chris confessed into his champagne. “Too bad we won’t be sticking around for a while.”

Kennie sipped the drink and sighed with pleasure. “Talk about food of the gods.”

Holding his champagne glass loosely, Alex peered at her. “You mentioned a coincidence.”

“Oh, it’s nothing you’d be interested in,” Kennie said, spearing a chunk of lettuce and dipping it into the green goddess dressing. “Just a little business venture I’m involved in.”

Alex leaned forward across the table. “On the contrary, I’m very interested. I’m always interested in coincidence.” He glanced at Chris. “I’m beginning to have a hunch about this night, friend.”

Chris snapped to attention. “A hunch? About what?” He scanned the table. “Wheat. Is that it? Here—have a roll.”
 

But Alex pushed the bread dish away, his concentration focused on Kennie. “What kind of business venture?”
 

Chris rushed on before he could get an answer. “You know you’re not interested in business, Alex. Now, what about that hunch? It’s bound to be something at this table...silver. Is it the silver?”

“The coincidence, Kennie,” Alex repeated.

Kennie felt a soft flush on her cheeks. “Oh, it’s really nothing. Just a little job I have until I can find something permanent.” She took refuge behind her drink, concentrating on draining it by half. “This really is wonderful. I’ll have to get the recipe for my mother’s Auxiliary.”

Chris waved a napkin in Alex’s face. “Cotton! That’s it, isn’t it?” But Alex brushed him off impatiently. “Coincidence, Kennie. Coincidence,” he pressed.

She rolled her eyes and sighed, closing both hands around her glass. “I’ve been selling cosmetics, that’s all. Lady Ambrosia cosmetics.”

Alex took the drink from her hands and sniffed it delicately. “Ambrosia punch...Lady Ambrosia cosmetics....” His face was transformed by a beguiling smile. “Coconut hair?”

Chris shot a jubilant finger into the air. “Orange juice! Citrus!”

“What a lovely coincidence,” Alex murmured, and handed back her drink, his fingers brushing hers.

“Lovely feeling,” Chris added, extracting a leather-bound notepad from his breast pocket.

She took another sip, a warm glow spreading through her body. “Yes, lovely.”

The rest of the meal passed in a golden, hazy glow. Chris’s attempts at interrupting them continued to fail, and Alex’s attentiveness to Kennie bordered on the obsessive. Kennie lingered over a gourmet coffee Alex had insisted she try. “Even the coffee tastes better here,” she sighed.

Chris signaled the waitress. “How about a round of that ambrosia punch you’ve been raving about?”

She was about to agree when Alex’s hand covered hers. His wicked smile belied the regret in his voice as he shook his head and spoke. “I made a promise to you, Kennie. And I’ve already broken it. We’ve been gone three hours.” The words hovered in the air between them, and when the waitress arrived he offered his American Express card.

He was going to do it! He was just going to take her back to the airport and leave her. Kennie’s spirits deflated. Wasn’t that exactly what she had asked for? And if she couldn’t have a few drinks at the only dinner of her only night of her only vacation…

A voice she hardly recognized as her own said, “But what about my punch?”

Alex paused. “Are you sure?”

A small, sparkling laugh bubbled up from deep inside her, and she raised her chin defiantly. “Positive.”

Chris grinned. “House drinks for everybody.” And then, innocently, he added, “Since everyone’s in such an agreeable mood, maybe you’d be interested in a visit to a casino?”

“Forget it,” Alex growled. “The lady isn’t interested. Especially not in slot machines.”

“I never said a word about actually gambling, did I?” Chris flung his napkin onto the table. “And I’m tired of you assuming that my only motivation for any good idea is those damn slot machines!”

“Histrionics will not sway me. No slot machines, and don’t try to deny that’s what you’ve been after all night.” Alex leaned back, eyeing Chris patiently.

“But Alex, the lady can’t leave Nevada without setting foot in one little casino,” Chris pleaded.

“Of course she can.”

“But she doesn’t want to,” Kennie declared firmly. Both men’s heads snapped toward her. “The lady wants to see a casino before she leaves.”

“See there!” Chris flashed a triumphant smile at his friend.

The drinks arrived, and Kennie raised her glass. “To my vacation, which as of this moment has approximately eight glorious hours to go.”

Chris’s glass clinked against it. “To tonight.”

Alex lifted his glass to join theirs. “To fate.”

~o0o~

An hour later Alex reached for Kennie’s hand and pulled her out of the taxi. “You’ve got a lot to cram into one night. But I think we might be able to catch one of the late shows, if we hurry.”

Kennie shivered in the cool night air, thousands of Reno lights sparkling in her eyes. He slid his hand up her arm to close on her bare elbow. “Didn’t you bring a wrap of some sort?”

“It never occurred to me that it would be so cool in the summertime.”

Alex curled his arm around her and drew her close. “Let’s walk down Virginia Street and see which appeals to you.”

“I swear, Alex, you have all the fun,” Chris complained. Then, with a mischievous grin, he thrust his arm over Alex’s and fell in step, wedging Kennie snugly between them. “Room for one more, eh?”

Kennie fought the silly giggle that threatened to spill out of her lips at the thought of having a handsome man warming either side of her, even sparring for her attentions. And then the giggle escaped, shimmering in the carnival night, preceding the three of them as they made their way down the street. “Do you know what I used to call ambrosia when I was a little girl? Amnesia. Every Christmas I carried this huge glass bowl of my mama’s best fruit salad to the dinner table, and every Christmas I announced it as the amnesia.”

“You must have been a beautiful child,” Alex murmured.

Chris did a little skip and hummed, “’Cause baby, look at you now.”

Caught somewhere between a delicious intake of breath and another spate of giggles, Kennie finally compromised with a little skip of her own.

“So the lady wants to dance?” Chris immediately swept her into a swirling spin. Alex followed beside them, shaking his head, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets, his jacket flaring behind his lean hips.

Faster and faster Kennie and Chris spun, oblivious to the few tourists still out and about so late on a Sunday night. The lights swirled in fiery arcs of red and orange and yellow and green and blue, until her feet barely skimmed the pavement.

Suddenly Chris halted. The green tint of his complexion had nothing to do with neon reflection. “I don’t think Dom Perignon and ambrosia punch mix,” he groaned.

Breathless, Kennie staggered until Alex’s strong arms encompassed her, his hard chest pressing against her cheek. “Nonsense,” he said over her head, his voice rumbling against her ear. “It’s the blasted frolicking that’s going to put you under if you don’t control your wild impulses.” Kennie raised her gaze to meet his. “Besides,” he continued softly, “I had the same combination, and I can assure you that what I’m feeling has nothing to do with champagne or punch.”

His head dipped lower, lower.... She closed her eyes and inhaled the heavy night scents of the city, the musky scent that was Alex’s, and felt the teasing pressure as his lips brushed against hers, brushed again, then his mouth captured hers. His arms surrounded her, his fingers trailed down the back of her neck, rubbing erotic circles on her skin. She felt light. Heady. Bubbly. And wonderful. She moaned softly into his mouth. His arms tightened, and his lips explored hers with an intensity that stole her breath, her thoughts.

And then, she ended it with a sharp shove and a scowl. Fun was fun, but this was ridiculous.

She felt the chill again.
 

Alex stared at her, his expression unreadable. Finally the spell broke as he grabbed her hand and led her down the strip. “I told you I had a hunch.” His voice was husky, his smile wicked. “And I always trust my hunches.”

“That was your hunch?” Chris grumbled. “Be a little more specific next time.”

“Why?” Alex asked pointedly, almost as if in challenge.

“Well....” Chris straightened and adjusted the lapels of his tux. “Well, what are we waiting for? We’re in Reno, where the sun never rises and there’s never a morning after—until, of course, the morning after.” He laughed as he strolled along behind them, then started whistling softly.

Alex stroked Kennie’s shoulder as they peered ahead at the array of casinos: the Eldorado, Fitzgerald’s, Harrah’s. His touch set off a tingling reaction that Kennie couldn’t possibly ignore. What had happened to sweet little Kennie Sue Ledbetter from Tahoka Springs, Texas?

Whatever it was, she liked it.

“Just get me back to the airport by seven-thirty,” she said breathlessly.

“By seven,” Alex amended. “We aren’t taking any chances.” He glanced at his watch, adding, “That leaves us only seven-and-a-half hours.”

“In case you two haven’t noticed,” Chris spoke up from behind, “we’re going to run out of strip soon. Where do you want to go?”

“Everywhere!” Kennie tossed back. “You decide.”

“Lady, you just made my day.” And before Alex could protest, Chris hustled them into the brightest casino on the block. “And now the fun begins.”

~o0o~

Hours later, after the Pointer Sisters’ frenetic midnight show and a dizzying tour of the casino, Kennie clutched Alex’s arm and leaned against him for support while they stood at a craps table with Chris. Chris had dragged them from blackjack to keno to this table, where he now seemed determined to lose a fortune.

“Come on. Throw the dice just once,” he begged her. “It’s no fun by myself.”

She shook her head vigorously. “I refuse to be responsible.”

“I suppose it’s too much to expect my oldest and dearest friend to let me in on one of his extraordinary hunches,” Chris groused.

“You’re absolutely correct. Too much to expect.” Alex grinned.

Chris shoved his chips toward the center of the table and pointed to the large black 12. As the croupier slid them into place with his long-handled stick, Chris leaned toward her beguilingly. “Now, Kennie Sue.”

“Now what, Christopher Quincy Abbott?” she retaliated, using the hated middle name he had volunteered during a toast at the casino bar.