Tessa Radley - The Kincaids - Private Mergers

The doubt vanished and her expression filled with yearning. “That’s not fair. You’re chipping away at my weakest point.”

Of course, he knew that. For someone who had confessed to never having traveled much and always wanted to, he was offering the dream of a lifetime.

“It’s not a weakness to have a dream.”

There was an expression in her eyes that he did not recognize. “You’re offering to fulfill my dream?”

He didn’t need her romanticizing him. He was, after all, not the love of her life that his mother had thought his father to be. He wanted no misunderstandings. He was, after all, only a man. “It’s not one-sided. Don’t forget that I will get what I need, too.”

“So this will be a win-win deal?”

She understood! He couldn’t have chosen better if he’d spent the whole year searching for the perfect wife.

“Exactly,” he purred. The dazzling smile Rakin directed at her was filled with triumph. “Why not accept my proposition?”

Proposition.

The word dragged Laurel back to what Rakin was offering: a business deal … not the dream of a lifetime.

Restlessness flooded her, and she leapt to her feet. “I think I’ve found my second wind. Let’s see if I can break that Winthrop curse.”

Rakin rose more slowly and blocked her escape. “You want to gamble more? Now?”

She shot him a look that could never be described as flirtatious. He was the cause of this … this turbulence that was turning her inside out. “You’re asking me to take the gamble of a lifetime by marrying you—what difference is a few minutes going to make?”

He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Take all the time you need.” The look he gave her was full of masculine confusion as he stepped away so that she could pass. “But it’s hardly for a lifetime. It’s not a permanent arrangement.”

But Laurel didn’t move past him. “I want a sign.”

“A sign?” The confusion evaporated, leaving frustration clouding his eyes. “What kind of sign?”

“That marrying you is the right thing to do.”

“And what would you consider a good sign?”

Laurel thought about it for a moment. “Winning back the money I lost on the roulette tables—losing it was very bad luck.”

“But your family never wins.” Rakin looked fit to burst.

A wave of amusement swept Laurel along as she headed for the gambling area. Now perhaps he felt as off-balance as she did. Over her shoulder, she tossed, “I’m going to stick to the slot machines this time. So chances are if I do win it would be an excellent omen.”

Rakin made a peculiar sound.

Laurel turned, in time to see him produce a coin from his pocket.

“Heads or tails?” he demanded.

The absurdity of it struck her as she came to a stop. “You’re asking me to make what might be one of the biggest decisions of my life on the flip of a coin?”

“You’re about to risk it on a machine that pays pittances on pairs of cherries. I prefer these odds,” he said grimly.

“I prefer the cherries.”

He didn’t even smile.

“You’ve got no intention of saying ‘yes’ to my proposal, have you?”

Laurel didn’t answer at once. To be honest, she was confused—Rakin had turned her world upside down with his proposal. It was far more disorientating than the roller coasters they’d shared earlier. Or the flashing lights and loud chimes of the nearby slot machines.

Part of her wanted to leap in and say yes.

No doubt about it, marriage to Rakin would be an adventure. A chance to experience things she wouldn’t otherwise. It certainly made good business sense. The Kincaid Group couldn’t afford to turn away opportunities for new business—particularly not with Jack Sinclair still causing all kinds of mayhem.

But the more cautious side of her, the old carefully and conservatively raised Laurel Kincaid, warned that she didn’t know Rakin terribly well, that this was an extremely risky proposition, one she should avoid at all costs.

All reason evaporated when he strode up to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I should’ve asked you to marry me back on the balcony last night—I’m starting to think you might have been more likely to say yes back during the wedding.”

His touch against her bare skin was … disturbing. Laurel struggled to think. At last she shook her head slowly. “You were a stranger then, I know you so much better now.”

She realized it was true.

In the cocoon formed by his arms, for her benefit as much as his, she ticked off on her fingers what she’d learned. “One, you’re fun to be with—I’ve never laughed so much in my life as I did today. Two, you’re kind—you held my hand when you thought I might be scared that first time on the roller coaster. Three, you love the world around us—I discovered that at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Four, you’re good with children—”

“You can’t possibly know that!”

His hands dropped away from her shoulders, and her flesh felt cool where, an instant before, his fingers had rested.

“I do,” she insisted. “You patiently humored Flynn at the wedding.”

“Then marry me!”

His eyes drilled down into hers.

“Only if I win.”

She swung away. From her purse she extracted a roll of coins. Tearing the wrapper with the casino logo from the coins, she fed them into the first slot machine she came to and hit the play button.

The patterns spun crazily.

When they came to rest, nothing lined up.

Not even a pair of cherries.

The same thing happened on the next play.

Laurel’s heart felt hollow. It was ridiculous to feel so flat, like a loser, simply because she couldn’t even hit the cherries.

Get a life… .

She hadn’t felt this flatness earlier. She and Rakin had connected; they’d enjoyed each other’s company. The day had been filled with joy. Her intuition told her they’d make a great temporary team—The Kincaid Group would benefit and so would Gifts of Gold.

It wouldn’t be crazy to marry him—she liked him.

And the man didn’t even gamble.

She stared at the rows lined with pictures and numbers. What was she doing? Rakin was right: she didn’t need some arbitrary sign. This was a solid business decision. It made perfect, logical sense to accept his proposal.

She didn’t need to prove that she could win.

Laurel knew she was going to say yes.

She hit the play button for the last time, and turned to give him the answer he was waiting for.

The cacophony of bells and electronic chimes rising in a hysterical crescendo caused her to whip around to stare at the slot machine.

In disbelief she read the flashing letters instructing her to call an attendant.

“The lights are flashing,” she said, as numbness invaded her. “I’ve won.”

Rakin was laughing.

“I’ve won,” she said again.

But Rakin wasn’t looking at the crazy, psychedelic fireworks above the slot machine. He was coming toward her his arms outstretched. “Looks like you’ve broken the Winthrop curse. You’ve hit the jackpot.”

Her eyes lifted to the amount in white lights at the top: $22,222. It wasn’t a fortune, but it more than covered her earlier losses. And it was definitely a jackpot. “Two must be my lucky number.”

Then she was being swept off her feet into Rakin’s arms. He spun her around as colors flashed crazily around her. By the time he set her down, the numbness was starting to recede as feeling returned … and with it, euphoria.

She grinned up at him. “I feel …” How best to describe it? “… lucky.”

“We’ll be lucky together.” Rakin’s gaze blazed into hers. “We will be married tomorrow.”