him once so he knew she was aware of his presence. He laughed. She was so sassy and spunky that he couldn’t help himself. She might prefer safety and routine, but nothing could dampen the innate fire that burned inside her.
Why was she even trying to hide it? He knew then that the secrets he wanted to unlock in Raine were somehow tied to that passion.
She moved toward the exit, and Scott deftly followed her, blocking the one door off the set. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall. She tossed her hair and pivoted on her heel, facing away from him.
“You still have that magic touch with the ladies,” a droll voice said behind him.
Scott turned to see one of his closest friends, Hayden MacKenzie—the newly married Hayden. “What can I say? I should bottle my charm.”
“Well, it is legendary. Does she not know that? Want me to go talk to her?”
“What are we—in junior high?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t go to junior high,” Hayden said.
Hayden had attended an exclusive boys’ school back east. Scott had met him in Europe when they’d both had too much money, too much anger and too much time on their hands. The other man stood a few inches taller than Scott.
“So how’s wedded life? Still bliss?”
Hayden smiled and for the first time since Scott had met him he saw a kind of peace in Hayden’s eyes. “Can’t complain. In fact, Shelby and I are having a dinner party on Friday. Can you come?”
“I might have plans.”
“You can bring her with you. Max is flying down from Vancouver, where he’s brokering a deal. Deacon and Kylie will be there.”
“Okay. But it’ll be just me. I don’t want Max to feel like the Lone Ranger.”
“You know Max. He’s never alone for long. See you at nine on Friday.”
Hayden walked away and Scott watched his friend leave. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be surrounded by his bachelor buddies who’d given up the single life. Scott had been alone for so long.
“Is everything okay?”
He glanced down at Raine. “Yes. Why?”
“Hayden owns the Chimera. I wasn’t sure if there was a problem.”
“Hayden and I go way back. Besides, he’d speak to you if there was a problem, wouldn’t he?”
She shrugged. “I guess. Listen, I’m going to have to work late, editing today’s shoot. So we’ll have to cancel dinner.”
He’d never had to work so hard with a woman, and a part of him toyed with the idea of just stopping his pursuit. He could afford to lose the bet to Stevie. But there was something about Raine that wouldn’t let him do that.
“No problem. We’ll go whenever you can. My plans are fluid,” he said, watching her carefully.
She put her hands on her hips and stared up at him. “I’m not sure how to say this….”
“Stop trying to find excuses. I’m not going to ask you to strip naked in front of a crowd of people. It’s just dinner.”
She dropped her arms and glanced around the set, which had cleared out except for one camera guy, who was still putting his gear away. “I’m not usually like this. You seem to bring it out in me. Are you sure you want to have dinner?”
“Yes. I’m not feeding you a bunch of BS, Raine. Believe me, I wouldn’t work this hard for a woman if I wasn’t really interested.”
There was a hint of vulnerability on her face before she carefully concealed it. “I’m free now. How about something casual?”
“It’s a little early for dinner.”
“Maybe we could go do something.”
“What do you have in mind?” he asked, sensing with Raine it was better to let her take the lead at first. He sensed she was used to being in charge on the job and off as well.
“Minigolf?”
No way. He had a reputation to live up to. “What are we…ready for the retirement home?”
“Well, what do you have in mind?” she asked in that quick-tempered way of hers.
“How much time do you have?” he asked, struggling not to smile at her show of temper.
She consulted her watch. “Four hours.”
“One round at the roulette table. Winner picks the next activity.”
“I don’t gamble.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t.”
“Rumor has it that you were once a big-time player.”
“The National Enquirer intimated you had sex with an alien on your yacht in the Mediterranean.”
“Then you were a big-time player,” he said.
She threw her head back and laughed. “Okay, you win. I’ll play roulette with you, but only one game. Whoever wins picks the activity.”
“I don’t lose,” he said, warning her.
“Neither do I.”
Raine rubbed her sweaty palms against her jeans and stood in front of the roulette table. She was intimately familiar with this game, having grown up a few blocks from the casinos in Atlantic City. She’d spent her childhood on the boardwalk, staring in at her father, who’d spend a few days playing roulette when he couldn’t scrape together enough money to stake himself to a poker game.
Just one small bet. That was all she had to do. She wasn’t going to become addicted to gambling by placing one bet. She’d bet Scott on this one game and then she’d take him to the Keno diner on the second floor, sit with him in a vinyl booth and bore him to death so he would move on.
Conning him didn’t seem like such an easy thing to do just now. She felt as if she was being torn in two, and the balance and serenity she’d worked so hard to find in her life were now gone.
Her heart was beating too fast, and every minute she spent in his presence made her like him more.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked, making her realize that she’d been staring at the rows of black and red spaces for too long.
She scrambled for an answer. She was used to thinking on her feet in the high-pressure world of television. “You have to have a strategy.”
“For roulette?” he asked. “Be careful, Raine. This is just chance. Odds or evens, black or red. That’s all you have to decide.”
“Well, we all aren’t you, Mr. Lucky. I need a strategy. Give me a minute.”
Turning away from him, she closed her eyes. Coming to Vegas had been a struggle. She wasn’t a gambler by profession, but her heart was always ready to bet on something.
Every day she walked past the odds board in the lobby and mentally bet on something, anything. Prize fights, European sporting events, even the outcome of certain reality shows. She was contractually forbidden from betting on their show, but in her mind she bet every time.
She’d watched her father and brother both spiral out of control and into addiction. Right now they were both living hand-to-mouth existences. And she couldn’t help them. When she sent money, they only gambled it away, and when she visited, they wanted her to run one more con. A big score so they’d be set for life.
She was being silly. One little roulette bet wasn’t going to turn her into an addict. She took a deep breath and looked up at Scott. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“What’s your lucky number?”