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Risking It All...: A High Stakes Seduction / For the Sake of the Secret Child. Yvonne LindsayЧитать онлайн книгу.

Risking It All...: A High Stakes Seduction / For the Sake of the Secret Child - Yvonne Lindsay


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not perfectly compatible?”

      “Us? That’s funny.” She didn’t want him to think his words had any effect on her, but they did. They were both good with numbers. Both hardworking and determined. She would have once said that he was a notorious playboy and she was the exact opposite, but her current position here in his arms proved that she wasn’t so entirely different from him when the opportunity for romance presented itself.

      Romance? Where had that word come from? There wasn’t anything terribly romantic about their relationship so far. Romance was flirtation and candlelit dinners and hopeful conversations. They’d gone straight from zero to sixty with very little preamble.

      She’d better not let herself start thinking that this was a romance, or she was likely to end up with a broken heart.

      “I don’t think it’s so funny at all. My grandparents are very different and they’ve been together for almost fifty years. He was wild and considered himself a beatnik. He wrote terrible poetry and played the trumpet, and he was getting ready to run away to New York and become a jazz musician when he met my grandmother while delivering milk to a local depot. She’d just moved here with her family from Minnesota and had never dated or kissed a boy in her life. She was training to become a schoolteacher and spent her evenings reading and knitting. He charmed her and she tamed him and they’ve been together ever since.”

      “Oh.” A dangerous charmer and a good girl. Sounded familiar.

      “He was very good-looking. She always said that she never stood a chance against him.”

      “Have they been happy?” She was genuinely curious. People always talked about those opposites-attract relationships, but she didn’t know how often they really worked out.

      “Very. They’ve had their ups and downs, of course. My mom—the one who gave birth to me—was even wilder than my grandfather when he was young, and it ended up killing her. Her death put a strain on their relationship, as a child’s death often does. My grandmother blamed my grandfather for not being stricter with her, and he blamed her for not being more accepting. He felt that if my mom had still lived at home maybe she wouldn’t have gone out drinking and driving on the night she died.”

      “If things were different, maybe you wouldn’t have been born.” She stroked the wrinkle that had formed between his brows. “So much of life depends on chance.”

      She’d never had that thought before. She was a planner, and unapologetic about it. She’d had her whole life mapped out from about age eleven: she’d intended to meet and marry a nice, appropriate spouse during college, then work for several years to build their finances and buy a house before they started a family. She’d planned her career in accounting and made sure to keep abreast of all developments in the field so she’d always have in-demand skills. When her marriage plans had derailed, she’d continued full speed ahead with the other elements of her life blueprint, assuming that everything would slot into place eventually, even if not on her anticipated schedule. She hadn’t spent a single moment thinking about the rather scary mechanics of chance.

      “You’re right. All the hard work in the world won’t get you anywhere without at least a dash of luck, too. I can’t tell you how many times the fate of this casino, even the whole tribe, rested on a decision made by strangers who didn’t have any real stake in the outcome. There were certainly enough people hoping that it wouldn’t happen. And plenty that would like to shut us down right now.”

      “Do you think that’s what they would do if I found that you were actually cooking your books?” Her stomach clenched. She could probably wreak havoc on John’s entire existence.

      “I don’t doubt that they’d try. Believe me, it makes it easy to stay honest.”

      “Why are so many people opposed to the casino?”

      “Well, there are the people who are against it for the same reasons as you.” He touched her lips with a finger. “You know, gambling, drinking, people wasting time having fun. But I suspect even more of them are just jealous. They think we’re getting away with something. Enjoying some benefit that they can’t have because they’re not Indian. No one likes to feel excluded.”

      “I suppose you’re right, but isn’t it supposed to be a reparation of sorts for past injustices?”

      “I think some people see it that way, especially people who are trying to justify their gambling losses as a charitable donation.” He winked. “But really it’s just a recognition of past treaties, allowing us sovereignty over our own lands and people. So many of these agreements were ignored or broken over the centuries, and now things are changing. There’s no element of payback in it. If anything you’d think Americans would be glad that we’re finally getting with the program and embracing the complicated laws and unbridled capitalism that have made this country so powerful and influential.”

      John was so charming it was hard to imagine anyone disagreeing with him once they’d talked to him face-to-face. “So basically, you’re just trying to fit in.”

      “Exactly.” His wicked grin made her smile in response. And kiss him. She couldn’t help herself. Something about him had totally undermined her defenses. He kissed her back. It was warm and invigorating, and soon he had to reach for another condom.

      Bliss filled her as John entered her again, banishing the years of loneliness and wanting. Her body blossomed under his affectionate caresses, and her inhibitions faded away as their intimacy deepened. Was it really this easy to find happiness with another person?

      She drifted off to sleep in his calm embrace, feeling utterly at peace with the world. Right now she could easily imagine herself and John as a couple, sharing their days and nights, their thoughts, their dreams.

      Could this taste of paradise turn into her real life?

       Seven

      Constance awoke with a jolt. Sunlight streamed through a crack in the curtains, announcing that the day was well under way.

      John was gone, his side of the bed rumpled and empty.

      She blinked, trying to read her watch. Ten-fifteen? She’d slept half the morning away. Why hadn’t John woken her? She clutched the covers around her, trying to cover her nakedness, even though she seemed to be alone in here. Where were her clothes? She barely remembered taking them off. They were probably on the floor somewhere.

      She spotted them neatly draped over a chair on the far side of the room. John must have picked them up this morning. How embarrassing! She lay here sleeping while he was up and about. Right now he was probably in a meeting or doing his daily perusal of the previous night’s takings, and she was just waking up from a sensual dream.

      She sprang out of bed and hurried across the room, then tried to tug her clothes on so fast it was more difficult than if she’d taken her time. She kept glancing about the room as if someone was watching. She checked her phone and saw several messages, mostly from work. There was no way she could even listen to them, never mind return the calls, while standing in John Fairweather’s bedroom!

      Her suit was wrinkled, probably from lying in a heap all night. She couldn’t manage to get her hair to cooperate either. She certainly hoped she could get out of here without running into anyone. And she had to drive all the way to her hotel and back before she could even get to work.

      She tried to use the elevator that opened right into the suite, but she couldn’t get the door to open. It required some kind of code she didn’t know. Cringing with embarrassment, she cracked open the door that led into a hotel hallway. A cleaner’s cart sat two doors down. She’d better get out of here before they wandered in with the vacuum. Glancing around and scurrying like a cartoon character, she darted for the public elevators at the far end of the hall.

      Constance pressed the button and gritted her teeth with impatience. She couldn’t remember a single occasion in her life before now that she’d needed to skulk


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