Page 3 of Vegas Heat

“Happy birthday,” she says, and I thank her as I slide the card back into my wallet and toss a hundred-dollar bill onto the table like I know what I’m doing.

“It’s your birthday?” the man on the other side of the table asks.

When I glance up at him, our eyes connect across the small table. My jaw falls open as a beam of heat seems to pass betweenthe two of us, as if our eyes have powered some electrical connection the likes of which this planet has never seen before. The room goes silent and it’s as if we’re the only two people in it, in the casino, in Vegas…in the entire world. It’s surreal, some out of body experience as I feel like I’m looking into my future, like I already know this man even though I’ve never met him before.

He's a little older than me, but it’s hard to tell how much older. His blue eyes light with surprise as they focus on mine, like he feels the same thing I’m feeling, this weird feeling like my life’s about to change.

He runs a hand through his dark hair and then along his jaw peppered with the sexiest scruff I think I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s not quite a beard, but it’s almost a beard that covers a chiseled, strong jawline.

Even just sitting at a blackjack table, he looks like he could command the attention of every single person in this room.

Mia elbows me, pulling me out of my trance, and the volume in the room turns back up as I realize I’m staring.

My cheeks flush as my voice seems to return to me, but I have to clear my throat before any words squeak out. “Yes, it is.”

“Happy birthday,” he says, and he shoots me a smile.

But it’s notjusta smile.

It’s absolutely devastating. It’s the kind of smile that burrows into your soul, the kind of smile that makes me want to take him upstairs to my hotel room.

My eyes flick down to his lips.

It’s the kind of smile that makes me dream of what those lips taste like. What they’d feel like on mine, on my body.

Damn.

“Have you ever played blackjack before?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Want to teach me?” I’m flirting, but I can’t help it. How do younotflirt with Hottie McHotFace? It’s my body’s natural response.

He laughs, his lips tipping up into a warm smile, and a tingle runs from my chest all the way down to my toes.

“Sure. Come here,” he says, patting the chair beside him, and I practically fall off my chair to get to him.

The dealer pushes chips over toward Mia first and then toward me in my new seat next to Hottie McCuteGuy. I glance at his hands, and good gravy eventheyare hot. They’re all strong and lean, like the rest of him, and the sudden image of those hands on my body flashes through my brain.

Welp, I know that’s an image that’ll stay with me a while.

I blow out a breath.

It’s just blackjack, Gabby. Focus on the cards. He’s just being nice. Plus he’s like…older. There’s no way he’d be interested. Slow your roll.

“Put two chips on the circle,” he says, and his voice is all gruff and deep and eventhatis sexy.

Geez, this dude.

“Two chips?” I ask.

“Oh, man, you really are a newbie. It’s a ten-dollar table, so yeah, two chips equals ten bucks.” He nods toward the little sign that tells us it’s a ten-dollar table, and I nod…and then I watch as he takes a few chips off the top of his pile in the circle.

“Why’d you do that?” I ask.

“I’m not betting a hundred bucks a hand with a total newb playing next to me.”

I giggle. “I know the basics. I’ve played at home with my dad before, just never in a real casino.”

“Prove it.”

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