So there was absolutely no reason for him to switch off the burner, cross the short distance to the counter where she was chopping, put her knife down, then scoop her up against his chest and kiss the daylights out of her. But that’s exactly what he wanted to do…so that’s exactly what he did.

“What was that all about?” she said, half laughing, half out of breath when he finally let her feet slide to the floor.

“That is because this is amazingly good.”

She beamed a smile, her eyes shining with true affection. “It is kinda, isn’t it?”

“Thank you,” he said, “for suggesting time with Dan. If you’re truly okay with it, then I think maybe that’s not a bad idea. Can we maybe shoot for lunch together-all three of us-tomorrow? I’ve got stuff in the morning, but we should be done by noon, or shortly after. If you want, maybe come up to the resort and we’ll have lunch there? I don’t mean for you to do any extra work.”

“You just don’t want to risk me cooking for him,” she teased. “Which, good plan. But I think this salad will keep until tomorrow, so maybe that, some ham sandwiches, and I can pick up one of Mrs. Hanson’s pies.”

He’d been ready to tell her not to take on the extra bother. Until she’d gotten to that pie part. He was a sucker for pie. Which, apparently had shown on his face, because she laughed.

“Strawberry rhubarb. You’ll never be the same. Warmed up, with ice cream, it’s like sin on a plate.”

He moved his pan off the burner and then wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Funny, that’s how I think of you.”

Her mouth dropped open, then closed, then she rolled her eyes, but there was the most becoming bloom of pink staining her elegantly sculpted cheekbones, he couldn’t help but laugh.

She waved him out of the kitchen. “Go on,” she said. “I’ll clean up here. And if lunch doesn’t work out tomorrow, no worries. I’d like to meet him, though, so I hope he’s okay with the idea. I’ll come to the resort if you think neutral ground is better.”

“I’ll call you later this evening, let you know for sure.” He crossed back to her, eliciting a squeal when he took her by the hips and sat her up on the counter beside the butcher block. He moved between her thighs and took her face in his hands again, planting a kiss that held both the passion he had for her right that second along with the building excitement he had for their potential future. “I want to tell you everything, about the house, my plans. I want you there, for all of it, involved right alongside me.”

She still looked a little stunned by the kiss. In a good way. A very good way. “Uh…okay. Good,” she said, finally finding her voice. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

She still didn’t get where he was going with this, that the partnership he wanted with her wasn’t about business or friends helping each other out. All of which was wonderful, but the partnership he was interested in was the fully invested one. He knew she’d worked with her ex, so he was going to have to take care in how he presented it to her…but if she shared his vision, nothing could stop them.

He kissed her again; then he groaned and pressed his forehead to hers. “I really want to stay. Eat, talk, maybe take another shower.” He wiggled his eyebrows again so they tickled her forehead, making her giggle in that way that was coming increasingly more naturally to her.

“The shower’s not going anywhere. And neither am I.”

Now all he had to do was convince her he wasn’t going anywhere, either.

Chapter 17

Brett had tried to reach Dan on his way up to the resort, but he hadn’t gotten an answer on the room phone or Dan’s cell. He might have been telling the truth about being wiped out and was already asleep, but it wasn’t even eight in the evening. And the time change was only two hours. He ducked into the first set of elevators, hoping no one on staff noticed him or any of the early arrivals for the event. One in particular he hoped to avoid. The very last thing he needed at the moment was-

“Ah, Mr. Hennessey, here you are, at last.” A beefy hand shot out to prevent the elevator doors from closing. They reopened to show a smiling Maksimov standing just beyond the threshold.

Brett was sorely tempted to hit the CLOSE DOOR button again, but knew he’d have to deal with Maks sooner or later. He’d just been hoping for the latter. He really wanted to talk to Dan, see if the two of them could get back on even ground. That whole situation had really taken him by surprise.

“Could I persuade you to join me in the lounge for a drink? Or perhaps we could talk in your suite, if it’s privacy you prefer.”

The suite was out. And perhaps a public setting wasn’t a bad idea, anyway. “Nothing for me, but let’s go ahead and have our little chat.” Brett exited the elevator and fell into step beside the much shorter, stockier Russian. “Or we could skip this part and just go right to where I politely decline your offer.”

“You haven’t even heard me out yet,” he said, a smug smile creasing his wide, perpetually shiny face.

“I don’t need to. I appreciate the gesture, you coming all the way out here,” he said, straining to be polite. He had no real reason to be any longer, other than it was never wise to burn a bridge you didn’t have to. “But I’m not coming back to the tables, Maks.”

“Except here, where you are playing again.”

“It’s for charity. One time only. I’m retired and I’m planning on staying that way.”

“And yet, there are so many other worthy organizations who could use help from someone like you. Perhaps you have a specific one in mind? We would be happy to help. In fact, I must admit, Rudov wasn’t happy when you chose to allow the Bronfield brothers to oversee this event. We have worked tirelessly for you in the past. And we were the first to make you very generous offers when you were starting out.”

“And I believe I’ve filled those very generous coffers back up. Several times, in fact.” He paused just outside the entrance to the lobby pub. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, as I hope you appreciate what I’ve done for you in return. I’m working with the Bronfields because they have hotel interests in places other than Vegas and were best suited to handle things this far afield. No personal slight was intended.”

Maksimov paused outside the door, and his smile widened as his eyes hardened. This was the more familiar side of Rudov’s hired hand that Brett had been hoping to avoid.

“Perhaps you don’t understand the offer we are making you.”

“I believe I do,” Brett responded, hoping the shorter man understood him. “Please tell your boss that I am flattered by the continued attention and his persistence. But I am no longer available, regardless of the beneficiary. If you decide to stay on for the event, I hope you enjoy yourself. But please don’t feel as if you have to for appearances’ sake. I know Mr. Rudov relies on your assistance, so if your time would be better utilized back in Nevada, I’ll certainly understand.”

Now even the smile faded. “I don’t relish the idea of disappointing Mr. Rudov again. Surely, given your generosity here, you could see your way clear to supporting the good works of a needy organization out west. After all, it is your hometown. Giving back, and all that. We would make the appearance well worth your while, donating your media fees to whatever charity you name.” He lifted a hand to stall Brett’s reply. “This sport has given you wealth beyond what most could measure.”

Brett could have mentioned that he’d earned that money by playing the sport but didn’t bother wasting his breath.

“There are others, after you, young and eager.”

“Perhaps you should be focusing your largesse on them, then.”

“Oh, we are. But it takes time to groom the new talent, expose them properly, build their names. Most don’t stay in the sport long enough, and none have shown even a glimmer of your particular talents.”