The Winning Hand Read Online Free Page B

lawyer, and some straight talk, because the vultures circle right after the wolves.”
    He imagined the barrage of requests and demands that would come, begging for contributions, offering investments. A smattering of them would be genuine, and the rest would be playing one of the oldest games: Get the money and run.
    “Keep me up to date.”
    “I will. How’s Mom?”
    “She’s good. Hosting some big charity fashion show here today. And she’s making noises about dropping in on you before we head back East. A quick visit,” Justin added. “She misses the baby.”
    “Uh-huh.” Mac had to grin. He knew very well his father would crawl over broken glass for a chance to visit his grandchild in Boston. “So how is little Anna?”
    “Great. Just great. She’s teething. Gwen and Bran aren’t getting a lot of sleep right now.”
    “The price you pay for parenthood.”
    “I had plenty of all-nighters with you, pal.”
    “Like I said …” Mac’s grin widened. “You pay your money, you make your choice.” He glanced up at the quiet knock on his door. “That must be the nervous fairy now.”
    “Who?”
    “Our newest millionaire. Come in,” he called out, then curled a finger when Darcy hesitated on the threshold. “I’ll keep you posted. Tell Mom I said hi.”
    “I’ve got a feeling you can tell her face-to-face in a few days.”
    “Good. Talk to you later.”
    The minute he hung up, Darcy launched into an apology. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were onthe phone. Your assistant, secretary, whatever, came to bring me up, and she said I should just come in. But I can come back. If you’re busy … I can come back.”
    Patient, Mac waited until she’d run down. It gave him the opportunity to see what a meal and a good night’s sleep had done for her. She looked a little less fragile, incredibly … tidy, he decided, in the simple blouse and slacks he’d had the boutique send to her suite. And no less nervous than the evening before.
    “Why don’t you sit down?”
    “All right.” She linked her fingers together, twisted them, then stepped to a high-backed deep-cushioned chair in hunter green leather. “I was wondering—thinking … has there been a mistake?”
    The chair dwarfed her, and made him think of fairies again, perched on colorful toadstools. “Hmm? About what?”
    “About me, the money. I realized this morning, when I could think a bit more clearly, that things like this just don’t happen.”
    “They do here.” Hoping to put her at ease, he leaned a hip on the corner of his desk. “You are twenty-one, aren’t you?”
    “Twenty-three. I’ll be twenty-four in September. Oh, I forgot to thank you for the clothes.” She ordered herself not to think about the underwear, not to so much as consider that
he
was thinking of it. But color rose into her cheeks. “It was very kind of you.”
    “Everything fit all right?”
    “Yes.” Her color deepened. The bra was a lovely champagne color with edgings of lace, and was precisely her size. She didn’t want to speculate how he could have been quite so accurate. “Perfectly.”
    “How’d you sleep?”
    “Like someone put me under a spell.” She smiled a little now. “I suppose I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I’m not used to traveling.”
    There was a dusting of freckles over her pert little nose, he noted, a paler gold than herextraordinary eyes. She smelled lightly of vanilla. “Where are you from?”
    “A little town, Trader’s Corners, in Kansas.”
    Midwest, Mac thought. Hit number one.
    “What do you do in Trader’s Corners, Kansas?”
    “I’m—I was a librarian.”
    Close enough for hit number two, he decided. “Really? Why’d you leave?”
    “I ran away.” She blurted it out before thinking. He had such a beautiful smile, and he’d been looking at her as if he were really interested. Somehow he had lulled her into the admission.
    He pushed away from the desk, then sat on the arm of the chair beside